Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(80)

At lunchtime, she picked up her purse, slipped into her jacket, and went into the outer office. April was slitting mail open with a letter opener with the efficiency of a butcher. Her eyes tracked to her monitor. Her mouth slacked open. “Oh my goodness.”

Louisa went round the desk. A banner scrolled across the bottom of the screen. LIVE BREAKING NEWS ON THE MUSEUM MURDER.

“What happened?” April leaned over the desk.

Louisa swiveled the monitor toward her assistant and turned on the volume.

A reporter stood in front of the History Department building. “Dr. Xavier English, a history professor at Livingston University, was arrested in the museum murder.”

Louisa and April listened, slack-mouthed with shock, as the reporter summed up the case.

“I can’t believe it.” The news channel moved on to another story, and April turned off the volume.

“Me either. Let me know if you hear anything else.”

“You too.”

Louisa went to the museum foyer. Damian was waiting just outside the glass doors. A brown bag dangled from one hand. She pushed through the glass doors into the not-so-fresh city air.

He kissed her cheek. “I can’t believe Xavier was arrested.”

“Do you know what evidence they found?” They walked toward the square. In the center, the dazzling autumn sunlight turned Swann Memorial Fountain into a spectacular display of sculpture and sparkling water. Two, possibly three young women were dead. She respected Xavier. Even after his obnoxious behavior at the fund-raiser, it had never occurred to her that he could be a killer. How could she not have known?

Damian lowered his head and his voice. “Rumor has it that he was sleeping with a bunch of his students and—wait for it—making sex tapes without their knowledge.”

“That’s so . . .” Louisa searched for the right word.

“Trite? Boring? Crass?”

“Awful.” Louisa pictured young women fooled and duped by a charming professor. “They must feel so betrayed and humiliated.” She could have been one of his victims. Before being put in Conor’s path, she’d thought perhaps Xavier was working up to asking her out. She would have said yes.

“And let’s not forget dead.”

Louisa felt the blood drain from her face in a wash of chilly fall air. “Why would he kill them?”

“Apparently, someone got hold of some of the videos and was blackmailing him.”

“Who?”

“Another student.”

Louisa watched the wind blow water across the square. She picked a dry bench. The geyser in the center of the square spouted high in the air, often soaking visitors. “I can’t believe it.”

Damian’s mouth twisted. “Why is it that everyone feels so damned much pity for smart college girls, but the world couldn’t care less about my missing teen?”

“No word on your runaway?”

“Hard to find someone no one’s looking for.” Damian’s voice turned bitter. “Here’s a piece of advice, girls, don’t be poor or uneducated. No one will care if you disappear.”

“I’m sorry.” Louisa touched his hand.

“I know you are.” But Damian’s smile was brittle, and she wondered again why he was her friend. She was wealthy, educated, and born to privilege, everything Damian despised.

“OK. I’m done ranting on the social injustices in the world.” He jerked his chin up. “We need to be grateful for small successes. Today, a predator was stopped.”

“Not soon enough.” Louisa’s skin felt raw with grief.

“The good news is that Conor is off the cops’ radar.” Damian handed her a sandwich. “Police surveillance is an irrefutable alibi.”

Louisa set it on the bench next to her without unwrapping it.

Chewing, he nudged her sandwich toward her. “It’s pulled pork. Eat it. The world is a terrible place full of terrible people. Starving yourself isn’t going to change that.”

She opened it and took a bite without tasting anything.

Damian lowered his lunch. “I know you’re having trouble accepting all this, but those three girls aren’t coming back.”

Louisa’s next breath hitched in her chest. She looked up at the sunshine glinting on water droplets in the fountain’s spray like diamonds under a jeweler’s loupe. The beauty of the afternoon felt like a sacrilege, as if all pleasure and beauty in the world should cease existing while parents mourned the deaths of their children. Even as one predator was stopped, all over the world, the wicked preyed on the innocent. There was no shortage of evil opportunists.

She gave up on her lunch. “I know. I just pray the police have the right man. I don’t want any more young women to get killed.”

Damian escorted her back to the museum. Louisa went back to her office but couldn’t concentrate on her paperwork. Conor called to tell her about the videos he’d found in Heath’s house. He’d been tied up with the police all morning. She decided to work on finishing out the Celtic Warrior exhibit. It didn’t matter that the grand opening had been pushed back. The work needed to get done, and physical tasks took less focus. She headed to the third floor with a list of items still needed for the life-size diorama.

She got off the elevator and skirted a ladder in the hallway. A technician in a security company uniform was mounting a small camera to the ceiling. She spent an hour sorting through fake rocks and tufts of grass in the prop room. Then she went into the apparel room and started searching for a proper helmet for one of her warrior mannequins.