“I will.”

When Regan hung up, she double-parked the car in front of a Mexican restaurant on Seventy-fifth Street that Cal said had great margaritas. “Melanie and I will run in and take a look,” Regan told Kit and Billy.

“We’ll keep an eye out from here,” Kit said.

“It’s getting late. A lot of these places have already closed. We have to work fast,” Regan said as she and Melanie disappeared inside. The bar was crowded but there was no sign of Georgina.

The bartender looked weary. “There were a lot of blond preppy kids in here tonight. And a lot of girls with highlights in their hair. Sorry I can’t be of help.”

Back in the car, Regan sighed. “They could be absolutely anywhere. But let’s try that other bar on Eighty-sixth Street that Cal suggested.” She steered the car up a dark and what felt increasingly dreary Third Avenue.

30

W ally’s nose wouldn’t stop bleeding. “He got me good. I could use ice and a few wads of cotton.”

“This isn’t the best night to be looking for ice,” Arthur commented. “Do you want me to take you to an emergency room?” he asked halfheartedly.

“For a bloody nose? I don’t think so.”

The two of them were sitting on the darkened path off the Hudson River just south of Ninety-sixth Street. “We’d better get out of here,” Arthur said as he carefully rolled the glass sculptures back in the blankets. “What if that crazy guy comes back with a bunch of his crazy friends?”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” Wally mumbled. “He didn’t seem very social. What should we do about the glass slipper and all that other fancy glass?”

“They are considered beautiful and valuable works of art,” Arthur said, impatient with Wally’s obvious lack of sophistication. “I wish there was a place we could hide them until after we’ve looked for my stun gun.”

“Do we definitely want to hand them over to the police?”

“Of course!” Arthur said indignantly. “It might be the only thing that saves us. Have you ever heard of plea bargaining?”

“Then let’s call Jack Reilly.”

“Who’s Jack Reilly?”

“He owns the loft you went into tonight.”

“Why would we call him?” Arthur snapped.

Wally braced himself. “He’s head of the NYPD Major Case Squad.”

Arthur blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You can’t be serious,” Arthur spat. “If I had known that, I would never have gone in there, no matter how much money I lost at the track!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“I could strangle you, Wally. Just strangle you.”

“I’m sure you could. But let’s call Jack first. If we don’t report the crime immediately, it will really raise suspicion when we finally do. We’ll tell Reilly we were coming into town, ran out of gas, and gosh, look what happened. We’ll be heroes. At least for a little while. You know, the old fifteen minutes of fame. It certainly won’t hurt if they do find your stun gun in his apartment.”