Free Midnight Betrayal by Melinda Leigh Page B

pictures leaked through.
    Oh my God, Zoe could suffer the same fate.
    Red tunneled Louisa’s vision. She closed her mouth and breathed through her nose.
    Jackson leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “Conor Sullivan was the last person to see Zoe alive. Are you sure you haven’t seen him since last spring?”
    “Quite.” She needed to get out of this airless room, and it seemed the police were going to rehash the same material, so . . . “I’m done answering questions.”
    Jackson’s jaw moved back and forth, as if he were grinding wheat to flour with his molars. “If we find out you’ve lied about your relationship with Conor Sullivan or that you’ve withheld information . . .” His partner’s hand on his forearm cut Jackson off.
    “I’m leaving now.” Louisa rose, praying her legs held her frame upright. Images of Riki’s ruined body flashed in an endless reel. “If you have any more questions, I’ll need time to notify my attorney.”
    If the police were interested in finding Zoe, Louisa would be the first person in line to assist them. But Jackson actually implied she was involved in or knew about her intern’s disappearance and Riki’s death.
    “One more thing.” Ianelli frowned at his partner. “For a ritual killing, would there be some kind of complicated setup?”
    “I don’t know.” Louisa gripped the edge of the table. Could Zoe still be alive? Had she been tortured? Set on fire? “Probably. The ones in Maine did. You should check with the state police detective there.”
    “We already have,” Ianelli said. His dark gaze was intent on her face and seemed to recognize her distress. He stood and offered Louisa his hand. “I think we have everything we need for now. Thank you for your time. Do you need some water?”
    Shaking her head, Louisa accepted his handshake. His warm palm nearly burned her icy hand. She directed her parting comment to Jackson. “I hope you’re not so focused on Conor that you’ve stopped looking for Zoe.”
    “Every cop on duty is looking for her. If the killer has a pattern, then she might still be alive. Riki wasn’t killed right away. She was tied up and tortured for a few days first.”
    Louisa’s head spun. She fought the dizziness. Under her jacket, a chilly line of sweat dripped between her shoulder blades and soaked her blouse.
    Ianelli shot Jackson a disturbed glance. Ianelli might want to pursue every lead, but the dynamics of the partnership were easily identifiable. Jackson was in charge, and he appeared to be concentrating his efforts on Conor.
    She left the room on wobbly legs, her high heels seeming narrower. A few minutes later, she found herself standing next to her car with no recollection of walking to it. She opened the door and slid behind the wheel. The vehicle still smelled faintly of dog. Although cool, the interior felt suffocating. She lowered the windows and rested her head on the back of the seat.
    The police detectives thought she could be collaborating with Conor, as if either of them could do what had been done to Riki. Those images would be forever branded into Louisa’s brain. She would see them until the day she died. To think the police suspected her of collaborating or covering up such a deed was truly abhorrent.
    Louisa knew she was innocent, and she couldn’t believe Conor would do anything as horrible as they’d described. How would the police ever find Zoe if they weren’t looking for other suspects?

    A uniformed cop led Conor into a small interview room at the police station and locked him inside. He paced the linoleum for a few minutes, then dropped into a metal chair. He propped his elbows on the stainless-steel table and let his head fall into his hands.
    His entire body felt like someone had beaten him with a stick. He’d spent the last hour perched on the edge of a metal bunk, staring at the moldy walls of a holding cell. With no empty interview rooms, he’d been briefly caged with two drunks, a