Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(77)

What. The. Fuck?

Why would Heath have videos of the professor with Riki LaSanta? How would he have gotten the vids?

Uh-oh. Upstairs, the shower cut off. He had to get moving. This wouldn’t be a good time to be caught, not when the cops were still riding Conor’s butt. But how to get the video to the cops? He opened Heath’s e-mail and dug Detective Jackson’s card out of his wallet. Bingo. He clicked NEW MAIL, typed in the cop’s e-mail address, and attached the video. A nasty idea prodded the back of his mind. While the video uploaded, he searched for correspondence with Professor English. There it was, and the video was attached. Heath was blackmailing the professor. According to the e-mail, there were other videos. Who else had the professor slept with? Riki had been his student, so could inappropriate relations get him fired?

While he waited for the file to load, he browsed the rest of the files, stopping on one titled ID1. Knowing what he’d see, Conor opened the file. The bed was empty, but not for long. Professor English backed Isa Dumont to his bed and began taking off her clothes. The professor was two for three. If Conor kept looking, would he find a video of English with Zoe? He attached the second video file and hit UPLOAD.

Footsteps on the floorboards upstairs startled him. Come on. Come on. The upload bar turned green. He clicked SEND, closed the windows he’d opened, and lowered the laptop’s lid. Footsteps thudded above his head. Grabbing his backpack, he checked the peephole. The porch was empty. Once outside, he slung the mostly empty backpack over his shoulder and crossed the street to the bus stop. The morning was cool but clear. The scent of damp, molding leaves filled the air and discoveries filled Conor’s head.

A guy emerged from Heath’s place, locked the door, and set off down the walk toward campus. Close one.

A horn gave two short beeps next to him. A dark sedan parked at the curb. Damn. Cops.

For a day that had started out pretty damned good, it sure had gone to hell in a hurry.

“Hey, Sullivan,” Jackson said out the lowered window. “How about going for a little ride?”

“I’m kind of short on time,” Conor answered. “How about a rain check?”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed with impatience. “Get in the car.”

Conor sighed. The cops hadn’t immediately arrested him. Why not? Curious, he opened the rear door, tossed his backpack onto the seat, and climbed in after it. “So, what’s up?”

Behind the wheel, Ianelli pulled into the street. He made a right-hand turn and drove away from the residential blocks. One thing about Philadelphia, you didn’t have to drive far to go from a decent neighborhood to a rat hole. Six blocks away, the renovated row homes were replaced by boarded-up hovels. The decorating committee was big on spray cans, sledgehammers, and fire.

Ianelli eased to the curb. “I think we should be asking you that question.” The cop met Conor’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Since we just watched you come out of Heath Yeager’s apartment.”

“Yeah. He wasn’t home.” Conor spoke the truth without hesitation. No need to elaborate.

“Enough with the games.” Jackson turned and spoke through the cage separating the front and back seat. “We have you cold on breaking and entering. Tell me, why did you search Heath’s place, and what did you find?”

“Technically, I didn’t break in.” Conor put a hand on his chest. “Are you asking for my help?”

Ianelli turned around. “Asking? No, we ain’t asking.”

Conor sized up the cops. Were they backing off him as a suspect? Or was this a trick of some sort? “Heath has been blackmailing someone at the university.” It wasn’t like Conor didn’t want the cops to know. He’d e-mailed them the files. He just hated to be bullied.

Jackson’s eyes brightened like a gutter rat that just caught sight of a discarded burger.

Ianelli didn’t even raise an eyebrow. “Who?”

Conor waited a beat. “Professor Xavier English.”

“What’d he do?” Ianelli asked, his dark eyes glittering with interest.

Conor spilled the rest about the videos of the professor with Riki and Isa. “I’m no expert, but the girls didn’t seem to know they were being taped, and English looked right at the camera.”

“So how did Heath get the copies?” Jackson asked.

Conor lifted a no idea shoulder. “You’ll have to ask Heath.”

Jackson chewed his lip in silence.

“Is sex with a student worth paying a blackmailer?” Ianelli mused.

“I’d think it could cost him his job,” Conor said. “But one of those students has been murdered, and another has disappeared. That is worth paying someone to keep quiet.”

“You didn’t get a copy of those videos, did you?” Jackson asked.

“It’s your lucky day.” Conor grinned. “Check your e-mail.”





29


Louisa walked into the museum, late, in a daze. Conor had walked her to the front door and made her promise to call the hotel’s town car at the end of the day. She checked in at the security desk. The security guard requested secondary identification, and Louisa dug her driver’s license out of her wallet. In the wide corridor that divided the museum, an extra guard stood at attention, his eyes scanning the visitors.