Downstairs, she entered the hallway near the front desk and found her way to the manager’s office. A different woman was there today.
“I’m Lara Evans, one of the contestants.”
“Yes, I recognize you. I’m Alena Brown, assistant manager. What can I do for you?”
“I need to look at the security footage from the hallway the night of the murder.” Lara took a seat. “The manager last night said she’d send me the clip but I didn’t get it.”
“I’ll text Lindsey for permission.” The assistant manager relayed the request into her iCom. She looked over at Lara. “It might take her a while to get back to me.”
“I’ll wait.” Lara figured her presence in the office would ensure some follow-through. She pulled her Dock from her bag and tried to get online to catch up on the news, but her internet access was blocked. Of course. That’s how they kept contestants from watching the coverage on personal devices…and why the contestants and media people were the only guests in the hotel.
She opened an e-book she’d been reading called Supercharged Calories. Essentially, it was about staying healthy on a minimum caloric intake. Lara found it difficult to focus on nutrition. She closed the file, clicked her notepad, and started a list of what she could do to investigate Kirsten’s homicide: 1) Upload Blondie’s image to CODIS and run a comparison match; 2) Show the image to everyone who worked the desk at the hotel and see if he was staying there; 3) Dig deeper into Morton’s background to see if he had any enemies he didn’t want to name.
Alena’s iCom beeped and she read her message. “The boss says to let you see the file. She already sent a copy to the police.”
“Thanks.” Lara recited her iCom number, which functioned as a central messaging point for everything. The file would also appear in her message center on her NetCom back in Eugene.
“Are you working with the police to catch the killer?” the manager asked.
“Yes.” It was the easiest thing to say. As she left the office, Lara thought about Detective Harper. Had he seen the footage from the hotel? Would he come back to ask more questions? She hated keeping the whole truth from him.
She took the stairs to her new room on the fourth floor and made a protein shake. At the desk, she downloaded the file where she could view it on the large screen. At first, the camera showed empty hallway with muted colors and a slight telescopic rounding at the edges. After ten minutes, a man came into view. He was about five-ten and wore dark slacks and a gray sweatshirt like the guy in the auditorium. His hood was pulled up over his head and he wore sunglasses, like someone who didn’t want to be recognized. As he came toward the camera, the man turned his head and quickly walked out of view. Lara watched the clip for another few minutes, then it abruptly ended.
She backed it up and observed it again, looking for details. The man walked with a normal gait, no limp or injuries that she could tell. He wore black athletic shoes and slacks, like someone who worked in an office. His torso was longer than average, leaving him short squatty legs. The light-gray sweatshirt was partly zipped, showing a white shirt underneath, maybe a t-shirt. Had the police viewed this footage yet? If so, why was she still wearing the damn ankle monitor?
Lara froze the clip just as he was about to turn away and studied the image for markings. Overall, his face was small and square with an average Caucasian nose and a small mouth. Pale skin with no freckles and no sun damage. His strong chin was all that kept his face from being nondescript. Sunglasses hid his eyes. She tried to zoom in, but the generic software on the hotel NetCom didn’t allow it.
She uploaded the clip of the man’s face from the auditorium and compared the two images side by side. Same nose and chin. The mouth in the auditorium clip was obscured somewhat by the mustache, which Lara now knew was a fake. Why had he worn it to the orientation and not to the hotel? Because she’d spotted him and blown his disguise?
A loud pounding startled her. Lara pulled her 9-millimeter and spun toward the door.
Chapter 23
“It’s Detective Harper. I need to talk to you.”
Her shoulders relaxed at the familiar name, then tightened again. Crap. She didn’t have time for another round of questioning. Lara closed the files and wondered if she could get away with ignoring him. No one was supposed to know her room number.
“Lara, I know you’re in there. Open up. I’m not here to arrest you.”
Reluctantly, she reholstered her weapon and trudged toward the door. She wanted to stop in the bathroom and make sure her hair and makeup still looked decent, but she didn’t let herself. Except for the contest cameras, her looks didn’t matter. She didn’t want men looking at her that way.
Certain it was Harper’s deep smooth voice, Lara unbolted the door and stepped aside to let him in. “Can we make this brief? I’m in the middle of something.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Like what? You don’t compete again until tomorrow.”
“You’re keeping track?”
“Of course. You’re my favorite contestant.” He smiled, all charm this visit. “I watched your performance in the Puzzle. Amazing. I don’t think anyone will beat it.”
Lara fought back a smile, not trusting his new tactic. She glanced back at the hotel room, glad her new space had a living area. “This isn’t a good place to talk. It may have cameras recording.”
“When I got your room number from the director, I told her our conversation needed to be completely private. She reassured me there are no cameras in this VIP suite.”
Her relief was physical, as if a pressure was suddenly gone. “Let’s sit down.” She gestured for him to go first, then locked the door and followed. The detective sank into the soft club chair, so she took the matching couch and sat at an angle to face him.
“Have you dropped the charges yet?”
“Why would we do that?”
“Because you know I didn’t do it. The hotel sent you video footage showing a man in the hallway outside Kirsten’s door around 8:36 p.m.”
“That doesn’t prove you’re innocent. Who is he? You know him, don’t you?”
“I don’t. Have you run the image through CODIS?”
“Yes, but with the hood and sunglasses, it’s pointless.”
Lara thought about the second image she had of Blondie in the auditorium.
The detective leaned forward. “What is it? You know something. I saw it on your face.”
Lara mentally kicked herself. Her expressive nature often worked against her. “I was just thinking that with the hood and sunglasses he looked like that image of the Unabomber. You remember him, don’t you?”
“Don’t try to distract me. I need your help, Lara. If I don’t close this case soon, it’ll get shuffled to the back of the workload and Kirsten will never get justice.”
Lara hesitated. Was there a way to tell him about Blondie without mentioning the commissioner? “If I tell you what little I know, will you drop the charges against me?”
“It’s not up to me. But if you give me another suspect, I can push the DA to shift his focus.”
Law enforcement still in her heart, Lara had to tell him something. She knew how frustrating it was to come to a dead end and feel like she’d failed the victim. “I looked at the hotel footage and the guy seemed vaguely familiar. Then I remembered seeing someone dressed like him at the back of the auditorium during the Gauntlet orientation.”
“Dressed how? Give me the details.” Harper tapped his Dock, preparing to take notes.
Lara repeated Blondie’s description. “He also had the same body type and clothes as the man in the hotel hallway.” She shrugged. “He’s on the camera footage for the auditorium. Would you like to see it?”
“You’ve been doing our job for us.”
“Somebody has to.” She smiled to soften the sting. “I had some free time this afternoon.”
“Show me.”
Lara uploaded the images side by side on the big screen. “He has the same nose and chin, but the hoodie makes it hard to get a positive ID.”