Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(44)

Louisa rephrased the question. “Had she ever not come home before?”

“No. Not that I’m aware of.”

“You were here all night? You didn’t run out to the library or to grab a pizza?”

“I said I was here all night.” Isa’s voice grew irritable.

“Why didn’t you answer Zoe’s texts Monday night?”

“My phone battery was dead.” The words were flat, as practiced as a child reading a memorized line in the school play. “I’m terrible about keeping it charged.”

Louisa could hear Conor in her mind. Lame. Charging a cell phone was as second nature to twentysomethings as brushing their teeth.

“I feel terrible about it. If I had picked her up . . .” Isa’s eyes watered. She brushed at the corner of one.

Real or fake tears? Louisa scanned the apartment. No boxes of tissues. No tissues in the trash can. Isa’s eyes didn’t show any signs of previous crying. Louisa just couldn’t shake the sense that something wasn’t right.

Isa returned the two-liter soda bottle to the refrigerator. “I fell asleep around eleven.”

“How long had she been dating Heath?” Louisa’s gaze swept the cluttered surfaces. “She said he was new, but how new?”

“Maybe a few weeks?” Isa opened a white box emblazoned with the pink-and-orange Dunkin’ Donuts logo. She held it out to Louisa. “Doughnut?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“When she didn’t come home, I thought maybe she spent the night at Heath’s.”

“Had their relationship progressed that far?” Louisa hated to think Heath had taken advantage of the younger Zoe. But Zoe was naive, a perfect target for a handsome, popular guy like Heath.

“I’m not sure. We aren’t really close.” Isa shrugged. “Zoe’s a lot younger than the rest of us. She doesn’t really fit in.”

Louisa switched topics. “How well do you know Heath?”

“Not well at all. I’ve seen him around, but he’s in the business program. We don’t have any classes together.” Isa bit into the doughnut and chewed. Her appetite appeared to be solid.

“How did Zoe meet him?”

“I don’t really remember.” Isa looked away. “I have to get in the shower. I have a class soon.”

“Sure. I’ll get out of your way.” Louisa headed for the door. “Thanks for talking to me.”

Outside, she went back to the car.

“Well?” Conor asked as she slid into the passenger side.

“I think she was lying or hiding something.” She slouched down in the seat and recited her conversation with Isa back to Conor. “I could be wrong. She said they weren’t that close, but Zoe was still her roommate. Maybe I expect too much, but her demeanor just felt . . . off. Can we wait a while? I’d like to follow her.”

Isa came out in less than two minutes, not nearly enough time to have showered.

“You’d better wait here.”

“Why? I want to follow her,” Louisa protested.

He grinned and gave her a deliberate once-over. “Dressed like that, you aren’t going to blend. Plus she already knows what you look like. She may not recognize me.”

The after-the-boxing-match picture the media had shown of Conor was chosen to make him appear rough, but the bruised and swollen face in the photo barely resembled him.

Conor flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt to conceal his face. With his jeans, boots, and lean body, he could pass for a student. But he was right. In her suit and pumps, she did not blend in with the student population.

“All right,” she sighed.

“I’ll text you if anything interesting happens,” Conor said. “Lock the doors.”

Louisa slid farther down in the seat. Where was Isa going?



Conor shoved his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his shirt and strode down the sidewalk. Even at a seemingly casual pace, his long legs kept pace with the girl hurrying a block ahead.

Two blocks later, Isa turned at the corner and broke into a jog as the rain increased. Conor followed as she cut through a service alley. Three houses down the next street, she was running up onto the porch to ring the buzzer of Heath Yeager’s place.

There was a bus stop at the corner. Conor ducked into the clear three-sided shelter. He sat down on the bench and pulled out his cell phone. Pretending to text, he kept one eye on the door to Heath’s building.

Isa wasn’t long. In barely ten minutes, she retraced her steps.

Conor texted Louisa: WATCH FOR ISA.

A few minutes later, she texted back: SHE’S HERE.

He watched Heath’s apartment another half hour, but the door didn’t open. He returned to the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

“She’s still inside,” Louisa said.

Conor brushed the hood off his head. His shirt was damp. “Heath hasn’t gone anywhere either.”

“What now?”

“I’ll take you back to work.” Conor started the car and pulled away from the curb. “At least we know they’re both lying. They know each other much better than they’ll admit.”

“What could they be lying about?”

“They’re up to something.” Conor turned back toward Center City. “I’d love to get inside Heath’s apartment.”