Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(20)
A half hour later, Louisa waited in a small, windowless room at the police precinct. Worried but feigning calm, she folded her hands across her lap and let her mind do the racing. Questions dominated her thoughts: Where was Conor? Why was the detective so convinced he was guilty that they searched his apartment and brought him here? What had they found?
The door opened, and Detectives Jackson and Ianelli came in.
Jackson sat across from her. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, Dr. Hancock.” He didn’t look sorry.
Ianelli took the seat next to his partner.
“How do you know Conor Sullivan?” Jackson asked.
“We’d met on one previous occasion, last spring in Maine. I consulted on a case involving Mr. Sullivan’s brother.”
Jackson’s brows lifted. “So your relationship with him is entirely professional?”
“For the most part, yes.”
“And you haven’t seen him since?” Pen in hand, Jackson tilted his head. “Because you two looked awfully friendly tonight in his bar.”
“Before today, I hadn’t seen him since last spring.”
He made a note. “Yet you moved from Maine to Philadelphia, Conor’s hometown.”
“Coincidence. The position at the Livingston Museum was the only one I could find after being let go from the museum in Maine.”
Jackson’s eyes brightened, putting her on guard. “We have proof Conor visited the museum three weeks ago. He showed up on footage from multiple security cameras.”
“I didn’t know he was there.” Had he come looking for her? The thought was a small bright spot in the bleak room.
“He hasn’t called you or kept in touch in any way? No e-mails or messages?”
Louisa shook her head. “No. We’ve had no contact until today.”
“You finished college early, right, just like Zoe?” Ianelli jumped in. “Zoe is pretty smart too, isn’t she? That’s why she’s in a doctoral program at twenty-one.”
“That’s correct,” Louisa answered.
“You wrote her up for lateness.” Jackson scrutinized her through the cover of his lashes. “Aren’t you happy with her performance as your intern?”
“I didn’t have any choice. She missed a staff meeting. The director wasn’t happy.” Louisa paused. “Zoe needs to work on her time-management skills. Other than that, she’s an excellent intern. She’s ambitious, smart, and confident about her work. I’m sure she’ll be very successful.” Louisa’s breath caught. Zoe might not have a future. Louisa wiped an escaped tear from under her eye.
“Is there anything else you can tell us about Zoe? Friends or family we can check with, any particular places she liked to hang out?” Ianelli asked.
“As far as I know, she spends the majority of her time in class, the museum, and the library. Zoe’s class schedule was considered when setting her internship hours. It doesn’t allow her an abundance of leisure time.” Louisa pictured the coffee cup Zoe usually had in her hand first thing in the morning and the bag she sometimes carried in after lunch. “On her way to the museum, she often stopped at Joe’s Coffee Shop and frequented Fresh Deli at lunchtime. Both are within a block.”
Ianelli leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his round belly. “How much do you know about her social life?”
“Our relationship was primarily professional, and I’ve only been a curator here for two months. I know her parents live about an hour away and that she’s a bit shy.”
“What about boys?”
“The boy she dated the other night is the first she’s mentioned. She said he was new, so I assume they hadn’t been together long.”
Jackson lifted a page and read the underlying paper. “Let’s talk about your last job. You were fired after several artifacts were stolen and used in an elaborate murder ritual?”
“Yes.” Louisa braced herself.
“And soon after you started your new job here in Philadelphia, an intern and the dagger that killed her went missing.”
Louisa inhaled. Fresh sorrow gathered in her chest. “So you’re sure the victim is Riki? You weren’t yesterday.”
Irritation flickered in Jackson’s eyes for a nanosecond before he smoothed it away. He hadn’t meant to give that away. “DNA will take weeks to come back, but we were able to confirm her identity through medical records.”
Louisa swallowed the burn of nausea in her throat. She blocked the images of Riki’s smile and the photos of her wounds, but snatches of pictures leaked through.
Oh my God, Zoe could suffer the same fate.
Red tunneled Louisa’s vision. She closed her mouth and breathed through her nose.
Jackson leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “Conor Sullivan was the last person to see Zoe alive. Are you sure you haven’t seen him since last spring?”
“Quite.” She needed to get out of this airless room, and it seemed the police were going to rehash the same material, so . . . “I’m done answering questions.”
Jackson’s jaw moved back and forth, as if he were grinding wheat to flour with his molars. “If we find out you’ve lied about your relationship with Conor Sullivan or that you’ve withheld information . . .” His partner’s hand on his forearm cut Jackson off.