Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(70)

“What?”

“My aunt invited him to have dinner with us on Friday night.” Her speech quickened as her mind worked.

“Did she know what he did?” She couldn’t have, he thought.

Louisa sighed. “I went to her immediately. To be fair, I told her that Blaine and I had been drinking. I accepted my share of the responsibility, but I also knew that he’d taken advantage.”

“What did she say?”

“That we were both at fault, and I could hardly blame him if I drank with him willingly. I shouldn’t have told her, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was afraid of getting pregnant.”

“You might not have realized he’d drugged you, but him using alcohol and your emotional state to achieve the same ends is bad enough. The fact remains that you were upset that your father didn’t show up, and Blaine took advantage of that. If a guy did that to my niece, I’d be plenty pissed off.”

Louisa let out a hard breath. “I couldn’t believe it when I went to her hotel and he walked into the lobby bar. She might not think it was all his fault, but she knows how I feel about him.”

“What did you do?”

“I left.”

Suspicion tightened Conor’s gut. “Could he have followed you?”

“It’s possible.” Louisa raised questioning eyes. “Do you think Blaine pushed me?”

Conor was actually thinking Blaine could be guilty of much more than that. “Do you know how long he’s been in Philly?”

“No.” Louisa’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he had anything to do with the murders.”

“He has a beef with you. He’s here in Philadelphia. He knows your history. We’ve already established that he’s a predator.”

“But murder?”

“He could have killed you. He obviously gave you some sort of drug. How could he have known how your body would react? Girls have died from date rape drugs.” Conor took Louisa’s hand. “Do you think you can talk to the police about it tomorrow? You have no proof of what he did, but I think the cops should know about Blaine. They can find out where he’s been for the past four weeks.”

She didn’t answer. Her hand was freezing. He rubbed it between his. “I’m not criticizing you, but why do you even speak to your aunt?”

Louisa sighed. “I thought she was going to tell me what’s wrong with my father.”

Conor heaved himself up on the bed next to her and pulled her into his arms. He was not letting her withdraw again.

Slowly, her muscles relaxed. “I can’t believe Blaine would drug me, but you’re right. The symptoms fit perfectly. It should have occurred to me before, but I don’t like to think about that night.”

“Are you afraid your aunt is going to cut you off financially?” Conor stroked her back. “You wouldn’t be able to live in the Rittenhouse, but you could definitely survive on your own.”

Louisa choked. “No, she can’t cut me off from the family money. It’s actually the opposite. The money is mine.”

“What?” Shock pulled Conor back.

“All of my fortune comes from my mother’s family.” She studied their joined hands for a few seconds, breathing, seemingly gathering strength. “My mother loved my father very much, but she had no illusions about him. He is and has always been a pure academic. He comes from an old blue-blooded family with more pedigree than money. He has no interest in being rich. He makes enough lecturing and guest teaching in Europe to fund his travels. That’s all he cares about. My mother died of cancer. She knew she was dying for several years, so she put the bulk of her estate in a trust. My father receives a generous annual allowance. He is more than happy about the arrangement. He has no desire to do any of the work involved with managing the funds, but his sister is a different story. When she agreed to move in with us and take charge of me, she assumed she’d have access to the money. She was furious with my mother for cutting Dad off. She carried that grudge over to me. Dad gives his sister most of his allowance. He doesn’t need it, and he feels like he owes her for giving up her life to raise me.” Louisa nestled closer. “She never married or had children of her own.”

“Well, thank God for that.” Conor hugged her tighter. “I’m sorry.”

Louisa brushed a tear off her cheek. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Conor sat up and faced her. “Don’t apologize for being sad or angry or try to cover it up with a fake smile. I don’t want an act. I want you, however you’re feeling. If your family makes you depressed, that’s OK. Please don’t ever pretend to be in a pleasant mood for me.”

Though Conor couldn’t help but wonder if she was truly capable of not covering up her emotions.

“Is there any way Blaine could benefit from your death?”

“Financially? I don’t think so.” Louisa shrugged. “If Blaine tried to kill me, it would have been pure anger. He doesn’t like to take no for an answer, and he usually gets what he wants.”

“You don’t think he could have killed those two girls to emotionally destabilize you, to get you fired, and ultimately to force you to go back to Maine?” Conor asked.

“That would take a great deal of planning, and it’d be . . .”