Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(91)

Isa’s body was found at the house marked by the third star on Zoe’s map.

“I am totally creeped out.” Ianelli shivered. “That is one evil girl.”

“I can’t believe she did the things she did to those girls.” Louisa was still reeling from the discovery that Zoe was behind the murders. The medication was numbing her emotions as well as her pain, which was fine with her.

“She grew up on a farm,” Ianelli said. “She’d slaughtered plenty of animals. She’s physically strong.”

“Who was the second victim?” Conor asked.

“A runaway who’d been hanging around the university. Zoe picked her because she fit her basic physical description,” Jackson said.

“I still can’t wrap my brain around it.” Conor shook his head.

“She’s been pretty cooperative in questioning,” Ianelli said. “She also stole an ID from an employee out on leave and bought a stack of general admission passes to the museum to gain access in the daytime. She’d mapped out every surveillance camera. The guards’ patrols were very routine. Working around their patrols wasn’t difficult. Since she routinely helped coworkers with their computers, she knew several people’s passwords and logins. She’d stashed changes of clothes in the apparel storage room, including a pair of coveralls from the cleaning service, and borrowed wigs from the museum’s collection to use as disguises.”

“What will happen to her now?” Louisa shivered. Conor tugged the white blanket up to her chin, took her hand in his, and rubbed her cold fingers.

“I’m not sure whether they’ll play innocent or insane.” Ianelli shoved his hands into his pockets.

“She’s not insane.” Jackson unwrapped a piece of gum. “And the evidence is piling up.”

Louisa tried to concentrate, but the pain was reaching a crescendo. She wanted more answers before she tapped her morphine drip. “What about Professor English?”

Jackson’s jaw sawed on his gum with determination. “He’s up on charges, just not for murder. We’re not sure how that will pan out. English didn’t sell or distribute his home movie collection. The DA has to prove the girls weren’t aware they were being filmed. Isa and Riki are both dead. They have to identify the other girls and get them to testify. The professor had dozens of videos on his computer, and it seems like he used grants and the teaching assistant position as rewards for sex. In the past twelve years, he’s never had a male TA. He could end up serving a couple of years. Most likely, the case’ll drag out until nobody cares.”

“His career is over, regardless.” Conor was watching her, his eyes intent, as if he could sense her increasing level of pain.

“Apparently, Isa was the one who found the camera,” Jackson continued. “She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to lose the grant or her position as TA with her PhD right around the corner, or risk getting caught up in an ugly university scandal at that time, so reporting the professor was out. She found the videos on his computer, copied them, and went to Heath for advice. Heath had been chatting her up while he was dating Zoe. Heath is the one who suggested blackmail as revenge. Isa was angry enough to agree. Heath took care of the process, and they split the money. They’d already milked the professor out of twenty grand and had no plans to stop.”

“She opted to use him instead of being used by him.” In a way, Louisa thought that was apt. She took a deep breath, and pain cleaved her in two like a magician’s saw. Conor put the morphine button in her hand. She pressed it. If there were any other loose ends, she’d have to hear about them another day. The medication slid through her veins, smoothing and blurring all the sharp, painful edges.

“Zoe saw the video on Isa’s computer.” Jackson’s voice faded.

“What happened to Hector?” Conor asked.

Jackson shook his head. “He didn’t make it.”

“We’re looking for Louisa Hancock,” a woman’s voice said from the hallway.

Dread contracted Louisa’s muscles and amplified her pain. She fought the drug’s effects and the vulnerability they produced.

Conor put down her hand. “I’ve got it.”



Conor walked out of Louisa’s room. A thin, older woman in an expensive-looking dress and coat clutched a small purse with manicured fingers. Next to her, a guy in a suit glanced around him. He looked worried. As he should.

Conor’s feet took him to the desk. “Excuse me. You’re looking for Louisa?”

The woman sized him up and arched a snooty brow. “What I’m doing here isn’t any of your business.”

“You must be Aunt Margaret,” Conor said. He shifted his gaze to the blond man. “Does that make you Blaine Delancey?”

“Yes.” Blaine tugged at a cuff. “And you are?”

Conor punched him dead center in the face. Blood spurted across the pale gray linoleum. Blaine fell backward, landing on his ass on the floor. With a stunned blink, he covered his bleeding nose with a hand.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He climbed to his feet.

“Oh my goodness.” Margaret rushed to Blaine’s side and pushed tissues into his hand. “Someone call security.”

Conor jabbed a finger in the air. “I know what you did.”