Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(89)

Conor’s stomach turned. “The cops didn’t find Isa’s clothes.”

“I can’t say how disappointed I am with the police.”

“You really think you’ll be able to pull off pretending to be a victim?” She wasn’t just crazy. Zoe was evil. Her eyes glittered when she talked about her plan. She hadn’t killed those girls just to get ahead. She’d enjoyed being smarter than everyone else, jerking the cops around—and Conor suspected she’d also enjoyed the killing.

“Yes. It’s the perfect alibi.” Her knowing smile faded. “Now, enough talking. It’s time for you to die. Dr. Hancock will have to be next.”

He had to admit, Zoe’s plan was brilliant and devious. He’d never suspected she was the killer.

Suddenly a look of curiosity crossed her already crazed features. “How did you find me here?”

“Louisa found the map you hid in the museum.”

“Those were supposed to go into the incinerator. But I’d planned out the buildings I was going to use in advance. I didn’t want to make any mistakes. Then Cusack changed the cleaning crew and beefed up security. He screwed up my plan to return to the museum to destroy everything.”

Thank you, Dr. Cusack.

“Enough questions.” Zoe pointed the gun at Conor’s chest. Her finger moved. He lunged sideways. At the same moment, Louisa launched her body at him from the ground. The gunshot reverberated on concrete. Louisa’s body jerked. She hit the cement slab and didn’t move. Conor rolled and kicked the camp lantern. The light shifted in crazy arcs.

The gun went off again. The shot went wild, pinging off the concrete and thudding into the wooden stairs. Conor rushed Zoe. His shoulder collided with her ribs. He felt the air whoosh from her body as they hit the ground. The gun skittered across the floor. She reached for it.

“Oh no you don’t.” He landed on top, sitting up and pinning her to the floor just as sirens sounded outside.

Footsteps thudded above. “Police.”

“Down here,” Conor yelled. “Call an ambulance.”

“Hands up.” Four uniformed cops came down the steps, guns and powerful flashlights sweeping the basement. The guns pointed at Conor. “Get off the girl.”

Conor put his hands in the air.

Below him, Zoe sobbed. “He tried to kill me.”

A cop tackled Conor and flipped him on his stomach. He knelt on his spine and snapped handcuffs around his wrists. Another uniform helped Zoe to her feet. “Are you all right, miss?”

“Don’t take your eye off of her. She’s a murderer.” Conor’s blood ran cold. Once again, the cops thought he was the killer. As long as they took care of Louisa, he’d deal with whatever happened later. “And get an ambulance!”





33


Louisa’s body bloomed with pain. Her lungs refused to inflate. She inhaled. Instead of air, her breath gurgled with liquid. It felt like a car was parked on her chest. A choking sensation filled her throat.

She opened her eyes. Bright lights and men in uniforms swept the basement. Someone came down the stairs with a handheld floodlight. A policeman wrapped a blanket around Zoe’s shoulders. Conor was on the floor, facedown and handcuffed, with two cops on top of him.

A policeman knelt at her side. “Hold on, ma’am. Help is just a few minutes away.”

Louisa summoned all her strength. Her hand fisted in his pant leg. “Not him. Not Conor. She shot me.”

The cop leaned closer to her mouth. “What?”

“She said the girl is the murderer.” Detective Ianelli’s voice boomed over the commotion.

Louisa used her last store of energy and oxygen to nod. “She shot me.”

Silence fell over the basement. The last thing Louisa focused on before darkness descended over her vision was the sight of Detective Jackson taking the handcuffs off Conor’s wrists. She let herself go into oblivion.



Conor skidded to his knees next to Louisa. Breath rattled in and out of her mouth with a wet sound. “Honey, stay with me.”

“Ambulance is just around the corner.” Jackson lowered himself to one knee. “Shit. Ianelli, get over here. She can’t breathe.”

“Move over.” Ianelli dropped to the concrete. The Camden cops moved out of the way as the detective ripped Louisa’s blouse open. The bullet wound was low on her left rib cage. “Her lung is punctured. Air is getting in. I need plastic.”

Jackson searched his pockets and came up with a brand-new pack of gum. He tore the cellophane wrapper off and handed it to his partner, who used it to seal the bullet wound.

Louisa’s breathing eased a little. A few dozen raspy breaths later, a new siren approached.

“Ambulance is here,” a uniformed cop called from the stairwell.

Ianelli got up. The paramedics took over.

Jackson slapped his partner on the shoulder. “Ianelli was an army medic.”

Conor rocked back on his heels, watching the paramedics work in silence. One punched a huge needle between Louisa’s ribs. Conor flinched.

Ianelli’s hand landed on Conor’s shoulder. “He’s just evening out the pressure.” The cop helped him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get over to the hospital.”

An IV line was started. Louisa was put on a backboard and transferred to a gurney.