“Did she know what he did?” She couldn’t have, he thought.

Louisa sighed. “I went to her immediately. To be fair, I told her that Blaine and I had been drinking. I accepted my share of the responsibility, but I also knew that he’d taken advantage.”

“What did she say?”

“That we were both at fault, and I could hardly blame him if I drank with him willingly. I shouldn’t have told her, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was afraid of getting pregnant.”

“You might not have realized he’d drugged you, but him using alcohol and your emotional state to achieve the same ends is bad enough. The fact remains that you were upset that your father didn’t show up, and Blaine took advantage of that. If a guy did that to my niece, I’d be plenty pissed off.”

Louisa let out a hard breath. “I couldn’t believe it when I went to her hotel and he walked into the lobby bar. She might not think it was all his fault, but she knows how I feel about him.”

“What did you do?”

“I left.”

Suspicion tightened Conor’s gut. “Could he have followed you?”

“It’s possible.” Louisa raised questioning eyes. “Do you think Blaine pushed me?”

Conor was actually thinking Blaine could be guilty of much more than that. “Do you know how long he’s been in Philly?”

“No.” Louisa’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he had anything to do with the murders.”

“He has a beef with you. He’s here in Philadelphia. He knows your history. We’ve already established that he’s a predator.”

“But murder?”

“He could have killed you. He obviously gave you some sort of drug. How could he have known how your body would react? Girls have died from date rape drugs.” Conor took Louisa’s hand. “Do you think you can talk to the police about it tomorrow? You have no proof of what he did, but I think the cops should know about Blaine. They can find out where he’s been for the past four weeks.”

She didn’t answer. Her hand was freezing. He rubbed it between his. “I’m not criticizing you, but why do you even speak to your aunt?”

Louisa sighed. “I thought she was going to tell me what’s wrong with my father.”

Conor heaved himself up on the bed next to her and pulled her into his arms. He was not letting her withdraw again.

Slowly, her muscles relaxed. “I can’t believe Blaine would drug me, but you’re right. The symptoms fit perfectly. It should have occurred to me before, but I don’t like to think about that night.”

“Are you afraid your aunt is going to cut you off financially?” Conor stroked her back. “You wouldn’t be able to live in the Rittenhouse, but you could definitely survive on your own.”