Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(76)
“That makes no sense.” Conor shook his head. “If he left her car there, he’d need to have his own vehicle. He could hardly toss her over his shoulder and fireman-carry her away. Someone would notice. So if he had his own car, why would he bother to break into hers? He’d nab her while she was digging her keys out of her purse or unlocking the door.”
The police didn’t offer an opinion on Conor’s comment.
“Have you made any progress with Riki or Zoe’s cases?” Louisa asked. “Are any of Zoe’s DNA test results in yet?”
Originally, Damian had speculated the tests would be back within a week, which was tomorrow.
The police didn’t answer. Instead, Jackson rose. “We’re done here.”
“I’ll see you to the door.” Louisa gestured toward the foyer. She didn’t want Conor to say anything else until she’d firmly closed the door on the police.
She pressed her back against the cold steel. “I can’t believe Isa is gone.”
Conor paced the small foyer. “How can another girl go missing without anyone noticing?”
“I don’t know.” Dread swirled in Louisa’s stomach. “He’s very cunning.”
He whirled, his face an angry mask of frustration. “More likely he’s someone the girls knew—and trusted.”
“Time to call Damian,” Louisa said. “So he can inquire on the status of the DNA test results. With Riki the police didn’t release that information to the public until her family had been notified. Maybe the same thing is happening with Zoe.”
“Maybe. I don’t want to be too optimistic, but it feels like their case against me is weakening. It’s hard to beat cops for an alibi.”
“Then why were they here?”
“I’m not sure.” Conor scrubbed his scalp with his fingers. “Looking for a new lead? Hopefully it wasn’t because they don’t have any other serious suspects.”
The late morning October sun was warm on Conor’s head as he sat on the bus stop bench across from Heath Yeager’s town house. He’d parked his car a few blocks away and strolled over, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Back in his cell phone and hoodie disguise, he blended in with the male students, as long as he kept his face hooded. Two kids pedaled by on bikes. A trio of young women exited the converted row home next door and strode away, absorbed in conversation. Backpack between his feet, head bent down toward his phone, Conor watched.
He couldn’t believe he’d blown it with Louisa. But how did he feel about a real, long-term relationship with a woman who kept secrets until he pried them from her with a metaphorical crow bar? And putting money aside, their backgrounds were polar opposites.
Movement snapped Conor out of his introspection. Heath came out of his front door and walked toward the campus. Two of his roommates had left a half hour before. Where was the fourth?
After Heath disappeared around the corner, Conor got up and ambled toward the building. On the front porch, he used his elbow to ring the doorbell, then pretended to wait to be let in. No one answered. Where was the fourth roommate?
Conor tried the doorknob. It turned in his hand. He pushed the door open. Heath hadn’t even locked the door. The last roomie must be upstairs somewhere. Sticking his head inside, Conor listened. A shower was running on a higher floor.
He waivered. When would he get another shot at this? He’d have to be quick and hope the roomie liked long showers.
He made a quick sweep of the first floor but saw nothing obvious. Where would a guy like Heath keep his information? Conor’s gaze landed on two laptops lying on the desk. Bingo. Young guys were all about their electronic toys. The first one belonged to some guy named Sam. But the second was marked with the initials HLY. Nice. About time some luck went Conor’s way.
He opened the computer. It was already on and woke up from hibernation mode instantly. Unlike the old desktop in his office that Conor intended to replace as soon as he had time, Heath’s powerhouse laptop was smooth and silent. No chugging or locking up when Conor inspected the folders. He skimmed through the photos. Some tasteless pics of Heath and his friends partying. Didn’t these kids know not to take selfies while they were smoking pot? Drunken girls flashing their boobs Girls Gone Wild–style. Porn. Yeah. Heath was a classy guy.
Keeping one ear on the still-running shower, Conor started opening videos. More porn. Didn’t Heath actually do any schoolwork? Conor opened the fifth video, labeled RS1. Another naked girl. But this video looked different. Homemade. The girl wasn’t watching the camera. There was no canned dialogue. She didn’t seem to know she was being filmed, which pushed Heath to a whole different level of skeeve. Did Heath secretly videotape his sexual exploits?
Feeling like a voyeur, Conor placed the cursor to close the window. Then he froze. The picture sharpened. He’d seen that girl before. Was that Riki LaSanta? It sure looked like her photo on the flyer. Had she slept with Heath? Had Heath slept with Isa or Zoe? Possibilities whirled through Conor’s suspicious mind.
A naked man walked into the room, his back to the camera. He eased onto the bed with the girl. Conor blinked. That wasn’t Heath. Professor Xavier English’s profile came into focus. He stretched out on the bed next to the girl, and his eyes shifted to give the camera a quick glance. The professor knew the camera was there.