Zach’s stare was intense. “Josie, do you think this guy, this professor, could be the copycat?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jimmy took a seat on the professor’s obviously brand-new couch, a tag still hanging off the left arm. The rest of the place was mostly unfurnished. It appeared the ex-wife had gotten the furniture.
The professor put one ankle over his knee. “What is this about? Detective Keene, you said?” He offered a smile and then gave what was supposed to appear to be a surreptitious glance at his watch. This guy was a piece of work.
Jimmy ignored the question about his name. That had been done to make him feel unimportant and remind him that the professor’s time was valuable. Self-Important Douche Tactics 101. Question was, could this pompous Brad Pitt lookalike be a cold-blooded killer?
Jimmy took his time picking an imaginary lint off his pants as the professor’s foot bounced impatiently on his opposite knee. “Are you aware of the two women found recently with links to the University of Cincinnati?”
The professor waved his hand around his empty apartment. “No TV yet, Detective. I’m sorry to say I’m out of the loop when it comes to current affairs.”
“No chatter about it on campus?”
“Probably. There always is. I haven’t had the time recently to engage in much chatter.”
Jimmy nodded slowly. “Right. Were you familiar with the girl who went missing from campus about six weeks ago? Miriam Bellanger?”
The professor’s face registered no reaction. “Are you telling me Miriam is one of the murder victims you just mentioned?”
“Sorry to say, but yes. Miriam Bellanger and another woman who went missing quite some time ago, Aria Glazer.”
The professor’s foot ceased its movement. He stared at Jimmy like a deer in the headlights. His throat moved as he swallowed. Jimmy watched the man closely. “I take it you knew them both?”
“Yes, I . . . Christ. Dead? They’re both dead? Murdered?” He ran a hand through his thick head of light brown hair, streaks of gray at his temples. Yeah, the college girls probably loved this guy. “Miriam was in my English Literature class on Wednesday nights and Aria . . . I just, knew her from campus.”
Jimmy gave him a small smile. “From campus?”
The professor blinked and then let out a breath, seeming to deflate slightly. “Listen, Detective, it would be frowned upon if the university found out, but in the interest of honesty, I had a brief affair with both of those women.” He held up his hands. “I’m not proud of it, but it’s part of the reason for my recent divorce, and something I’ve come to regret.”
“Where did these affairs occur?”
“Mostly in my office. Sometimes after class, sometimes because they met me there.” He lifted his hands. “I know what you’re probably thinking, but these women came to me.” He leaned forward slightly as if divulging a secret. “Women, especially college women, are often the aggressors these days. And sad to say, they don’t require much other than a clean surface upon which to . . .” He let that linger with a small lift of his brows.
Jimmy ran his tongue along his teeth. “I see.” Asshole. He assessed the professor. “If Aria Glazer wasn’t in your class, how did you meet her?”
“From what I recall, we were both getting coffee one night. We started chatting and . . . one thing led to another. You know how it goes, Detective.”
No, Jimmy certainly did not know how it went. His wife, God rest her soul, had passed ten years before, and there would never be another woman for him. He’d go to his grave still faithful to her.
Jimmy made a note to pull security from the college, see if anyone could be seen following the women as they left his office and made their way off campus.
“How did these affairs end?”
The professor let out a huff of breath, his eyes moving upward as though trying to recall. “Let’s see, Aria dropped out of whatever class she was taking Wednesday nights, so I simply didn’t see her after that.”
“She never called you once the affair was over?”
“If she did, I never returned her calls. But I don’t recall for sure. That was so long ago.”
They hadn’t received Aria Glazer’s
phone records from that time period yet, but Jimmy would bet his bottom dollar that they’d show she’d phoned the professor plenty. And it wouldn’t surprise him if the professor was telling the truth about never returning the calls. Again, asshole.
“There was some indication she might have been pregnant,” Jimmy said. “Did you know?”
Something flashed in his eyes, but he looked away quickly. He knew. “She never said anything to me. If she was pregnant, it wasn’t mine.”