“She’s just as emotionally volatile as any other twenty-one-year-old girl. In fact, on Monday, she was distracted, a very unusual state for her. I was concerned. Part of a mentor’s job is to make sure the kids haven’t overextended themselves. When I asked if everything was all right, she mentioned that she had a date, but she seemed nervous about it. I could be wrong. Maybe she was just excited. We didn’t discuss it beyond me making sure it wasn’t a school-related issue.” Xavier put his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet. “I have to get back. I hope someone finds her. I hope she’s not . . .” He let the implication trail off.

Conor stood and shook his hand. “Did you know Riki LaSanta?”

“Not well,” Xavier said. “She was in one of my classes last year, before she changed her graduate major from European history to Egyptian.”

“Thank you.” Louisa touched Xavier’s wrist.

“Be careful, Louisa.” Xavier covered her hand with his for a brief moment, just long enough to irritate Conor. “I’ll see you Saturday night at the fund-raiser.”

Conor bristled as Xavier left the café. Did Louisa have a date with the professor?

Louisa sipped her tea. “I wonder how Zoe felt when the date she’d been anticipating went horribly wrong.”

Conor thought back to Monday night. “She was upset, even more so when she couldn’t get her roommate on the phone.”

“I wonder if Isa really didn’t get the messages or if she ignored Zoe’s calls,” Louisa mused. “There’s a lot of competition between graduate students.” She checked her phone. “She hasn’t called me back.”

“Do you think Isa could feel Zoe breathing down her neck, academically speaking?”

“It’s a possibility. I know Zoe was a close second for the Pendleworth grant.”

“Did you know Riki was a European history major until this year?”

“No. I wonder if the police know.” Slipping one foot out of its high heel, she absently rubbed her toes before stuffing her foot back in with a grimace.

Conor nodded toward her feet. “Why do you wear those if they hurt?”

Looking up at him, she cocked her head. “What else would I wear?”

“Something that doesn’t hurt?” Conor suggested with a grin and a glance at the beaten running shoes on his feet.

“Oh, I’m sure those would go over well with my boss.” Louisa chuckled. Her phone buzzed on the table. “I’m sorry. I have to get this.”

“No problem. Go ahead. I’ll pay the check and meet you outside.”

Her face tightened as she walked toward the door and answered the call. “Hello, Aunt Margaret.”

He joined her on the sidewalk as she pressed END and stared at her phone.

“Everything all right?”