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.
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
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.
