Where the Blame Lies(47)

He looked up her roommate’s number and dialed it quickly, his leg tapping with impatience as he listened to it ring.

“Hello?”

“Shannon Edwards?”

“Yes?”

“This is Detective Copeland with the Cincinnati Police Department.”

There was a pause. “About Miriam?”

“Yes.”

“It’s awful.” He heard a catch in her voice. “It doesn’t feel real,” she whispered as if it wasn’t, but if she talked too loudly, it might be.

“I know. I understand. I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Edwards.”

“Thank you, Detective. I answered lots of questions about Miriam when she disappeared. Is there something else? I’m heading to class and—”

“I know, and I may need to set up a time to talk again, but for now, I just have a couple of quick questions if you can spare three minutes.”

“Yes, okay.” He heard hurried footsteps and pictured her walking quickly across campus, her cell phone pressed to her ear.

“We’ve found evidence that Miriam may have had a regular Wednesday night hookup with someone. Do you have any idea who that might have been?”

“A hookup? No. Miriam wasn’t seeing anyone regularly from what I knew. And Miriam wouldn’t have lied about that. We talked about everything.”

“Would she have kept this from you if it was a professor?”

“A professor?” The footsteps stopped.

“Are you familiar with Professor Vaughn Merrick?”

Shannon was quiet for a moment and then she laughed softly. “Yeah, the whole female student body is. He’s hot. But . . . I think he’s married.”

“Could that be why Miriam didn’t mention it?”

“I mean . . . I guess. I . . . I don’t know. There are rumors . . .”

“What kind of rumors?”

“You know, about his office hours, how if you flirt with him, you might get lucky on top of his desk. I thought . . . I thought it was just talk, you know? Because he’s hot. Just . . . girls talking.”

You might get lucky on top of his desk.

Sex on PMs desk, so hot.

“Thank you, Shannon. I’ll let you know if I have any more questions.”

After he’d hung up, Zach sat back in his chair for a second before picking up the phone again and calling Aria Glazer’s roommate.

She picked up on the second ring. “Tessa? This is Detective Copeland, we talked—”

“I remember you, Detective.” Her voice was slightly breathy.

“I have a quick question about the classes Aria dropped before she went missing.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Did she take classes on Wednesday nights?”

“Yeah, she did. Mondays and Wednesdays.”

“Do you happen to remember the classes she was taking?”

Tessa sighed. “Two science classes, I know that. Aria wanted to be a nurse someday and they were part of the requirement.”

Science, not English Lit. Still, she had been on campus the same nights as Miriam Bellanger, even if they hadn’t been there during the same semester. One may have been having an affair with her English Lit professor, the other had a secret relationship with someone who might have gotten her pregnant.

Zach struggled to connect all the puzzle pieces swirling in his mind. There were too many similarities forming between the two most recent victims for it to be a coincidence. Did any of this have anything to do with Josie’s case?

Zach did another quick search on Vaughn Merrick, pulling up his profile on the college website. He’d worked at the University of Cincinnati for almost twenty years. He’d taught there when Josie attended classes.

Holy hell.

He needed to go talk to Professor Vaughn Merrick right away.

And he needed to talk to Josie.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


Zach knocked on the door of the beautifully refurbished older home in Hyde Park where Professor Merrick lived with his family. He waited, but the house was silent from inside and when Zach leaned forward, cupping his hands around his eyes so he could see into the dim foyer beyond, it appeared to be completely empty. Confused, he stepped back.

“They don’t live there anymore,” he heard called from behind. Zach turned, noticing the blonde woman in the driveway next door handing a grocery bag to a pretty, young black woman who looked to be in her late teens or very early twenties. The young woman disappeared into the house, her arms laden with groceries as the older woman, also holding a couple of bags, hit a button on her key fob and the rear door of her SUV began to close.

“Do you know how long ago they moved?” Zach asked, descending the steps of what had apparently previously been the Merrick house and walking toward the neighbor.

She balanced one of the bags on her hip. “They moved a few weeks ago.”

“Did you know them well?”

She gave him a semi-suspicious look, obviously wondering why he was asking questions. He removed his badge. “I’m with the Cincinnati Police Department. I just have a few questions for Professor Merrick.”

“About those missing students?”

“In relation to that, yes. I’m hoping he can shed some light on a few questions that have come up.”