The Gauntlet Assassin (16 page)

“What if it’s not?”

Lara wanted to suggest they find the shooter and take him out of the picture, but she didn’t know how Morton would react—or if she could follow through. “If we locate him, we could plant something of Kirsten’s on him. If they hold him over for trial, it will at least get him off our backs.”

The commissioner pressed the accelerator, passing a line of cars on the right. Lara noticed the traffic was rather light in D.C. too. People had really cut back on driving…and everything else. She tried to ignore Morton’s weaving through traffic and stay focused on their problem.

“The court will probably evaluate him, and if he’s mentally ill and violent, he’ll be incarcerated.” She stared at Morton. “It’s hard to believe he picked you at random. You have to think about everyone who could have a grudge against you.”

“Believe me, I have, but I didn’t recognize the guy.” Morton made a sudden lane change. “I live near the Gauntlet and I need to stop at home for a minute.”

“Do you work out of the offices on the AmGo property?”

“No. I live in a nearby neighborhood that’s conveniently located. This whole area changed after the Reagan airport shut down.”

Lara reached in her bag for her notebook. “Describe the guy in detail for me. I only got a fleeting look.”

“Average height with pale collar-length hair and a thin mustache. He’s lean and probably in his thirties.”

“How was he dressed?”

“I don’t know. He had a gun. I didn’t notice his clothes.”

“You had to see something.”

“He wore black.”

“Any scars, tattoos, or other markings?” Lara looked up occasionally as they made turns. The homes were new with beige paint, brick accents, and large green lawns. Unlike other places in the city, few trees had survived the redevelopment.

“I don’t think so.” Morton touched his earpiece. “I need to call Minda.” After a moment, he said, “Lara Evans is out on bail and will soon be back at the hotel. Let’s get her into the Puzzle early tomorrow, in case the police decide to pick her up again.”

Morton pulled into a driveway, pressed a device in his console, and waited for the gate to open. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

When he climbed out, she noted the address, then leaned back and closed her eyes for a few minutes.

The sun had set by the time they pulled into the parking lot, but just seeing the hotel gave her an unexpected sense of relief. Only a night in lockup could make a hotel room in a strange city feel like home. Inside, Morton strode directly to the manager’s office. He knocked once and stepped in, a man who knew he was in charge. Lara followed, suddenly feeling grubby. Her makeup had worn off long ago, her hair was limp and unbrushed, and she reeked of sweat. If the exchange took more than five minutes, she planned to have a shower in her old room before doing anything else.

An attractive middle-aged woman looked up from her NetCom. “Mr. Morton. What can I do for you?”

“This contestant needs a private room, but after the assault on her roommate, I don’t want her name in the system anywhere.”

“I understand.” The hotel manager glanced at Lara. “I’m so sorry for what happened. We’ve never had an incident like it before.” She turned back to her screen and tapped her keyboard as she talked.

Lara said, “I’d like to look at the security footage in the hallway near my room around the time of the attack.”

“We sent a file of the footage to the police department this morning.”

“I’d like to see it anyway.”

The commissioner cut in. “Send it to me, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Morton.”

“I need to grab my things from my old room. Will you call me when you have the new key card?” Lara needed a moment alone to retrieve her 9-millimeter.

“Let me send an attendant with you,” the manager said.

“I’m fine.” Lara spun and left before anyone could argue with her.

She headed for the stairs, noting the two men by the elevator and watching them for unexpected moves. The stairs would offer more obscurity and it would be harder for anyone to watch her come and go. She’d never felt vulnerable like this before and she hated it. Once the gun was back at her side, she’d feel better.

Still, knowing the killer had several weapons made her nervous. The D.C. police had kept her Taser and probably submitted it to their crime lab. If the distance between the marks on Kirsten’s body didn’t exactly match the distance between the electrodes on her Taser, they’d have to reconsider their case.

At her old room, Lara slipped her card into the lock. She pushed the door open and stepped quickly to the side.
Damn!
She wished she had her gun. She listened for movement, despite the hum of the air conditioner. It seemed unlikely the killer would come back to her room and somehow manage to get inside, but she wasn’t taking any chances. After a minute, she moved into the opening, but still hesitated.

A taped outline of where Kirsten’s body had lain marked the pale carpet in the foyer. A wave of guilt washed over her. Another person connected to her was dead. This was why she liked to keep to herself. She regretted not reporting the crime in Eugene, but she was in too deep now to correct her mistake. She stepped lightly around the outline and entered the sitting area.

The guilt settled in her stomach, making her queasy. Lara fought it the only way she knew how—with a running stream of self-talk as she rushed to the bathroom. This was not her fault. She had just been doing her job as a medic and some crazy person tried to kill her. After a minute of deep breaths, she was able to keep her ProFast down. She dug her multi-purpose tool from her bag, stepped up on the toilet, and retrieved her gun.

As she hopped down, her iCom beeped. She strapped on her weapon before checking the ID: Morton. “Yes?”

“Meet me on the fourth floor near the elevator. Bring your luggage.”

Once the commissioner left her new room, Lara dragged a heavy upholstered chair in front of the door. It might not stop an intruder, but it would slow him down. She looked around, wondering what other protection she could implement. The room was twice the size of the space she’d shared with Kirsten and had a fireplace, hot tub, and oversized wall screen. What it didn’t have was a security system that would let her see who came to the door. She would sleep with her gun as usual and hope for the best.

After taking a shower and drinking a can of ProFast, Lara sat down at the NetCom. She wanted to check the stats for the Challenge and see who had made it into the Puzzle and who was going home. Her name was fourth on the list, and she was scheduled for nine the next morning. She scanned down. Jason Copeland from Illinois had won his match and so had Makil Johnson, two contestants she considered her greatest challengers. Makil had completed the Ironman Triathlon. Lara was surprised to see Suzie Ventola from New Mexico on the list of Challenge winners. She was thirty and small and had spent most of her career as an accountant. But she also competed in triathlons, so her endurance was excellent.

Lara wanted to check the hotel security footage, but she desperately needed sleep. At midnight she set her alarm, lay down with her gun, and tried not to think about the Puzzle. Tomorrow’s contest was in some ways the most challenging because it would exercise her brain instead of her body. Just her against the clock, trying to MacGyver her way out of a locked room.

Chapter 19

Wed., May 10, 6:05 a.m.

After a rough night of waking every hour, Lara rose early and dressed for a run. Weapon strapped to her side and Mace in hand, she pounded down the stairs and looked over her shoulder every few seconds while passing through the lobby. A certain element of fear and caution were part of her nature after years of being a cop, but she’d never felt hunted before and she hated it. Yet she wouldn’t let it stop her from doing the things that kept her sane.

Outside, the sun shimmered above the horizon and the early morning air was still fresh—warm but not blistering. She ran along the perimeter of the property for an hour, slowly peeling away the stress of yesterday’s incarceration. On the west side, she caught glimpses of the dark cool river. To the east, the expressway hummed with morning commuters. By the time she returned to the hotel, the day had heated up and sweat poured from body.

Rejuvenated, Lara showered, dressed in the mandatory pocketless clothes, and made herself a protein and carrot shake. She left her gun under the mattresses, grabbed her shoulder bag, and caught a shuttle to the arena. Her turn in the Puzzle wasn’t for another hour, but she wanted to arrive early and check the posted times of the first few to complete it.

In the main lobby, contestants ate in the cafeteria and milled around the electronic scoreboard. When Lara approached the group at the board, they fell silent and turned to stare.

“What’s the fastest time posted so far?” She grinned, daring anyone to ask about her arrest.

“Eleven minutes and thirty-six seconds by Julian Romero of California,” a woman said, her voice subdued. Lara recognized her as Suzie Ventola from New Mexico. Julian’s eleven minutes were nearly double last year’s winning time, so Lara wasn’t worried yet.

Suzie added, “The first contestant, Taro Chang from New York, didn’t finish in time and is out of the competition.” The rules allowed only fifteen minutes. Contestants who didn’t get the door open in the allotted time were sent home.

“I was a little surprised to see your name on the roster this morning,” Makil Johnson said. “I heard they arrested you.”

“They did, but it was bullshit, so the Gauntlet organizers bailed me out.” Lara didn’t want anyone to know the commissioner had personally picked her up.

“Do they know who killed Kirsten?” Suzie asked, still subdued.

“Not yet, but I’m hoping the hotel’s security footage caught someone outside the room. Or will at least clear me.” Lara wanted to move on. “Any buzz about what’s in store for us?”

“No,” Makil said. “All the social hubs are blocked. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they recycle some themes from the first year.”

Lara expected some of that too. AmGo couldn’t keep coming up with totally new stuff; it was too expensive. The elevated maze had been a revised version of something they designed for the first Challenge. The one consistency was that the Puzzle had three different scenarios each year and contestants were randomly assigned. Or so the organizers said.

A motorized camera cart pushed out through the double doors that led to the small arena housing the Puzzle. Behind the cameraman came Minda and her co-host Serena, with a grinning Jason Copeland wedged between them. They stopped in the lobby under a row of skylights.

“Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds,” Minda said for the viewers. “Early in the Puzzle rounds, Jason Copeland of Illinois has set an amazing benchmark for the other contestants to beat. What do you think, Jason? There are seventeen more competitors. Do you think that time will hold?”

Jason gave a confident smile. “I think it’ll be hard to beat. I plan to go into the Battle with a strong lead.” Only the fastest twelve competitors in the Puzzle went on to the Battle tournament, and only three proceeded from the Battle to the Obstacle.

Lara saw Minda’s assistant, Serena, head for their group. A knot formed in her stomach. It was time to face the viewers and talk about Kirsten’s death. She would have rather had her back teeth extracted.

The pretty brunette touched her arm. “We need you for some camera time before your turn.” It wasn’t optional.

Lara followed her over. As Jason moved out of the camera’s eye, he winked and whispered, “Go get ’em, killer.”

Lara bit back a response and kept moving. She stepped into the spot where Jason had been and gave the viewers a shy smile.

Minda introduced her again and summarized her win in the Challenge. Then the director turned to Lara and said, “That was Monday afternoon. Tell us what happened Monday night.” Minda pushed the mic at her.

Lara looked right into the camera. “While Kirsten was packing to go home, I went out for a short run. When I came back, Kirsten was on the floor, right inside the door to our hotel room. I’m a paramedic, so I immediately checked her pulse and discovered she was dead. It was a shocking moment.”

“The police arrested you later that night, why?”

Lara had thought about what she would say, but hadn’t really settled on something. It was too late to reconsider. “The police believe Kirsten was attacked with a stun gun. Unfortunately, I have a stun gun in my luggage. I carry it out of habit because my job is sometimes dangerous, and because I used to be a police detective.” Some viewers would find that sympathetic; others would not.

“They released you on bail, so the case against you must be weak.”

“They have no case. I just happen to be Kirsten’s roommate.”

Serena, the assistant, cut in. “Tell us about the argument you had with Kirsten before you went out.” Her tone was more investigative journalist than reality TV host.

“I wouldn’t say we argued.” Lara struggled to hide her irritation. The viewers had probably seen the clip ten times by now. “Kirsten had been drinking and she was upset about losing, so she made some negative comments. I sympathized with how she felt and tried to diffuse the situation. But then she grabbed me, so I reacted in self-defense. It’s part of my training. A few minutes later, I left so she would have time to pack and leave.”

“Have the police dropped the charges against you?” Serena asked

“No, but I expect they will. It would certainly make it easier for me to focus on the competition.” Relieved to change the subject, Lara continued. “I’m excited to participate in the Puzzle. Jason’s time will be hard to beat, but I’ll do my best.”

Minda took over the interview. “Do you have a strategy?”

Lara laughed softly. “I suppose I’ll try some of the obvious solutions first, but other than that, all I can say is that I plan to think and move fast.”

“Are you surprised to still be in this competition?”

“I’ve only completed one phase and I’m grateful to have won it. I expect to solve the Puzzle and go on to fight in the Battle.”