Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(29)
But she wanted that deep-seated faith. She didn’t want to believe this kindhearted man who was devoted to his family and made her laugh and took in a pathetic stray dog would hurt a young girl. She wanted him to be her knight, which probably wasn’t fair to either of them. Life had taught her that no one could be that good. Even Lancelot betrayed his king.
From the shuttered look in his eyes, he knew that too.
This time Louisa chose her words carefully. “I’ve learned the hard way to be careful.”
“Noted. If it helps, so have I.” His admission wiped away the reservation in his eyes and left them full of empathy. “A few years ago, I was involved with a woman who neglected to tell me she was married. We’d been together for three months when her husband showed up at the bar. Apparently, he traveled a lot, and she got bored easily. I was just her plaything when he was away.”
Betrayal thickened his voice. He’d had feelings for that woman.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“So I know all about moving slowly. Whatever you have in your past, you can tell me.”
She should. He’d shared something personal with her, but her story was long and complicated. Zoe’s disappearance and Riki’s death had left her spent. She didn’t have the energy to put the words together, let alone deal with the emotional fallout talking about that pivotal night from her past would unleash. “Not now.”
Doubt swirled in her lungs, shortening her breaths. Enough psychoanalysis. Riki was dead. Zoe was missing. “Tomorrow, I’m going to keep looking for Zoe. It seems as though the police are convinced she’s already dead, and they don’t see beyond you as a suspect.”
“No kidding.” Conor sighed. “Where are you going to start?”
Good question. “Her boyfriend, Heath, seems like the logical starting point. He was with her the night she disappeared. He claims to have gone home and passed out immediately after his encounter with you, but his alibi rests entirely on his friends’ statements. Not the most reliable, in my opinion. How intoxicated was he that night?”
Conor considered. “Drunk enough to make him stupid, but unfortunately, not drunk enough to render him incapable of acting on it.”
“Some people can’t handle any alcohol.” Discomfort welled inside her. She pushed the memory back into the dark corner of her mind where it belonged.
Conor snorted. “This wasn’t Heath’s first night out.”
“When I spoke to him this morning, I suspected he might be lying, but I couldn’t be sure over the phone.”
“I don’t like the thought of you alone with that arrogant jerk.” Conor squeezed her hand.
“Would you like to come along?” Though their mission was somber, Louisa couldn’t stem the rush of pleasure that accompanied the idea of spending time with him.
“That’d be a surprise to Heath.” Conor laughed.
“It might be interesting to see Heath thrown off guard.” In hindsight, Zoe’s boyfriend had been entirely too composed when she’d spoken with him. He’d seemed barely concerned about his girlfriend’s whereabouts. Was it because he was a self-centered, uncaring jerk or because he already knew what happened to Zoe? Or both?
“I like the way you think.” Conor’s eyes sparkled with shared mischief. “Count me in.”
“I’d planned on talking with Zoe’s roommate tomorrow as well. They lived together for a month. She must know some details about Zoe’s personal life.”
“Good idea. Now how about I walk the dog while you eat some dinner?”
“I’m not hungry yet.” She went to the closet for a pair of athletic shoes and the dog’s leash. “I’d rather we walk her together. I wish she’d eat more.”
“The vet said to give her a week or so. She’s had a rough time.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
They took the elevator downstairs to the lobby.
Gerome, the Rittenhouse doorman, stooped to pet Kirra. “I want all the dogs in the building to like me. If you ever run late or need her walked during the day, just let me know.”
Thinking about Conor’s dog and the possibility of future dog-sitting, Louisa put Conor on her approved guest list. With a pat on Kirra’s head, Gerome opened the door for them.
Conor took her hand as they crossed the street and followed the dog into the small park. A cool breeze swept through the neatly trimmed azaleas and wrought-iron fence that edged Rittenhouse Square. They strode along the circular walkway that ringed the park and turned onto one of the diagonal paths that ran from each corner and met at a rectangular reflecting pool in the center plaza. Old-fashioned lampposts flooded the paths and highlighted the Greek statues interspersed throughout the green space. It was nearly midnight, and the park was empty, except for a man walking a corgi on the other side of the square. Kirra led them down the walk, sniffing her way toward the center of the green space.
Louisa shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” She glanced around. A cluster of people lingered on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant. She didn’t recognize anyone. No one was paying them undue attention, but Louisa couldn’t shake the creepy feeling. Next to her, the dog abruptly stopped sniffing and pressed against Louisa’s calves.