“Now step on it. Hard.”

Conor stomped a heel on the screen. The display went dark.

The flashlight beam dropped, playing over Louisa’s still form. Then the light moved toward the wall. With the click of a switch, the soft light of a camp lantern illuminated the basement.

Six feet in front of him, Zoe stomped her foot. An oversize sweatshirt concealed her slight frame. A gun shook in one hand. A large duffel bag dangled from the other. “You can’t have found me. It’s impossible.”

Conor didn’t point out the obvious.

Zoe shook the flashlight. She was wearing the same miniskirt she’d been wearing the night of her disappearance. It was wrinkled and grimy. From the smell wafting across the space, Zoe hadn’t showered that week. Her dark hair hung in a greasy ponytail. “I only needed twenty more minutes. That’s it. Then everything would have been in place.” She gestured toward Louisa. “She would be dead. The scene would be staged. You would walk right into my trap.” She dropped the bag on the concrete. Metal clanged. She pulled what looked like a disposable camera from her pocket. Two wires protruded from one end. A homemade Taser. “A quick zap with this would render you immobile enough for me to get you into position to shoot yourself in the head.”

He shifted his weight, judging the distance between them. Could he tackle her before she shot him?

Probably not. If Louisa were able to run, he’d try it. But the crack on the back of the head had rendered Louisa helpless. If Zoe killed him, Louisa would be next.

“Zoe, put the gun down,” he said with authority. “It doesn’t have to end like this.”

“No way. And don’t even try to tell me everything will be OK,” Zoe spat. “Because it won’t. You two screwed everything up. I was supposed to escape this week. I would be the sole survivor of your killing spree.”

“So Isa is dead?” Conor asked, sadness rolling through the turmoil in his gut.

“Yes. Now there’s no one in my way.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Pendleworth grant,” Louisa breathed.

No way. “You killed three women and planned to frame me for murder and suicide over a grant?”

Louisa had mentioned academic competition, but she’d had the players backward. Of course, the major assumption of her theory had been that Zoe was a victim.

Zoe rolled her eyes. The whites gleamed in the dim. “Of course. It was no accident I went to your apartment and the police found the evidence I left. It would have worked perfectly if the cops hadn’t been completely incompetent. They should have arrested you that first night.”