“Or just finely tuned to bullshit. Call him off me, whoever he is.”
“I said I’d get you protection.”
“What I need is for you to make sure the cops don’t hold me long enough to miss the Puzzle on Wednesday. They’ll consider me a suspect.”
“I don’t have much clout with law enforcement, but I’ll do what I can. Please keep quiet about our earlier encounter.”
“Okay.” Lara paused. “For now. If they charge me with murder, I’ll tell them everything.”
“Don’t! I have to go, Minda’s messaging me.” Morton cut her off, and Lara sat down on the couch to plan what she would say when the police showed up.
Minda arrived first, bursting in without knocking. She had a cameraman with her, as always. Lara didn’t move from the couch. From the hall, Minda glanced over at her and said, “We may or may not use this footage, depending on how this incident plays out in the ratings, but we have to film it.”
“You should stay out of the crime scene.” Lara stayed put. She wanted no part of this broadcast.
Minda turned back to her cameraman, gave him a few directions, then recorded a short segment directed to the viewers, a video clip they might never see.
The camera guy came in for a close-up of the body and Lara winced. If the killer had dropped any trace evidence, it could be ruined or compromised by contamination. This would be bad for the crime scene tech who processed the scene…if they still sent technicians out. Maybe the detectives had to do all of it now. Most local law enforcement budgets had cut everything and everyone considered nonessential.
A police officer stepped into the room. “Shut off that camera and get away from the body.” The stocky Hispanic cop didn’t shout, but he carried an authority that few would defy. The cameraman started to move further into the room. This time, the officer shouted. “No! Out in the hall. But don’t leave.”
The camera guy hustled past the cop and out the door. The officer looked over at Lara. “You’re the roommate who found the body?”
“Yes.”
“Stay there. A detective will be here to talk to you in minute.” He turned to Minda in the hallway. “Who are you?”
“Minda Walters, the director of the Gauntlet.”
“Were you with her when she found the body?”
“No. Lara informed me that Kirsten was dead, and I came down to see the situation.”
“Where were you before?”
“In my room here at the hotel.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, but I was involved in a video chat with several people who can testify that I didn’t leave my room until I heard from Lara.”
“Please go back to your room and stay there until another officer arrives and can clear you.” He sent the cameraman away with the same directions, then stepped back into the hall to stand guard. The presence of only one patrol officer at a homicide was indicative that the D.C. police had suffered similar budget cuts as Oregon had.
Twenty minutes later, two plainclothes detectives arrived, and Lara suspected the presence of the second was only because the victim was a Gauntlet contestant. The high-profile nature of the crime meant solving this one would be a priority. Her gut tightened at the thought. Cops under pressure looked for easy solutions. In this case, that would mean to blame her.
The detectives conferred with the uniform officer in the hall, then one started knocking on doors, while the other took photos of Kirsten’s body. Lara watched him work, noting the gentle expression on his face as he examined the victim’s hands and upper chest. He was six-two with close-cropped silver hair and wore a black microfiber jacket over his broad torso. Lara noticed his wide-spaced hazel eyes and strong chin, experiencing a tug she hadn’t felt in a long time. Why did she always have such a thing for good-looking cops? Because relationships with them were so perilous?
He searched the area around the body but didn’t seem to find anything. Finally, he came over and dragged a chair in front of the couch. “I’m Detective Caden Harper. What’s your name?” His voice had a hint of southern accent.
“Lara Evans. I’m Kirsten’s roommate.” Lara didn’t bother to correct her use of the present tense. “I left to go for a run a little after eight. When I got back at a few minutes after nine, Kirsten was dead on the floor.” Lara knew what information he wanted. She’d been on the other side of this conversation hundreds of times.
“Did anyone see you leave or come back?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Lara wished she’d chatted with hotel personnel on the way out.
He tapped his oversized iCom then held it out to her. “Place your thumb on the screen.”
Lara complied. She’d heard some departments were using new digital fingerprint technology, but she’d never seen it. “My prints aren’t in the system.”
“Just making sure.” He glanced at the information on the screen, then put the device away. “How did you feel about Kirsten?”
“I barely knew her. We competed against each other in the Challenge today. That’s it. I don’t have personal feelings about her.”
“You don’t sound sorry she’s dead.” He looked at her with puzzled eyes.
Lara winced. “Her death is tragic. I just mean that she was a stranger to me until last night. I have no motive to kill her.” Lara realized she had to win him over before he saw the video footage and found the Taser in her luggage. “I used to be a homicide detective. I was in the Eugene, Oregon, Police Department for sixteen years. I know what your job is like and how difficult it is to do with limited resources, but I’m not your suspect.”
“I’ve read about you online.” His big shoulders seemed to relax and he gave her a half smile. “Why did you quit the force?”
She had no intention of sharing that painful story. “I got laid off, like dozens of others.”
His eyes met hers. “It’s been a bad decade for law enforcement.” He started to say something else, then stopped and shifted back to interrogation mode. “Did Kirsten mention any problems she was having with anyone?”
“No. We really didn’t talk much.”
“Did she have any visitors to the room?”
“No. And if she was involved with anyone in the competition, I didn’t know about it. I arrived late yesterday and spent most of today in the arena.”
“What about this evening? Start with when you left the arena and tell me everything.”
“I came straight back here. After I showered, I had a video chat with some detectives I used to work with. They called to congratulate me on winning today. I had some-”
“You beat the young Amazon woman?” Harper grinned, then quickly recovered his poker face.
Kirsten’s death had sucked the fun out winning, but Lara sensed he wanted to hear about their match. “The first two phases were close, but in the end, she didn’t have the strength to pull herself out of the pit. Years of pull-ups paid off for me.”
The detective looked at her in a new light and Lara liked it.
“What time did the call end?”
Lara noticed he still said call too. People under thirty used text , message, com, or chat as verbs. Young children had never heard the word phone except in books. “Some time around six. You can check the NetCom.”
“What time did Kirsten come in?”
“I’m guessing, but I’d say 7:45.”
“Did you talk to her?”
Lara had to tell him about the altercation. The cameras had picked it up. “She was pissed off and smelled like she’d been drinking. Kirsten complained that the viewers favored me in the Challenge. I tried to minimize the situation and go to my bedroom.” Lara kept her eyes focused on Harper’s face and her hands in her lap. She knew he was looking for signs of deceit. “Kirsten blocked my path, then grabbed my hair and jerked me back. I defended myself with a single blow to her chest.”
Harper leaned back, his eyes registering surprise. “You fought with the victim an hour before she died?”
Lara’s pulse quickened at his tone. “She was the aggressor. I tried to avoid the confrontation. When I left the room a few minutes later, Kirsten was fine and packing to leave.”