The Gauntlet Assassin

“I’m starting to think so.” Lara turned to Morton. “Can you visualize him with shorter hair and clean-shaven? Could he be someone you know?”

“Without the hair, he seems vaguely familiar.”

Lara selected Tools, clipped the frame, and saved it as a separate file. She sent the image to her iCom number and turned to Morton. “If we took this to the police, they have software programs that generate and modify a suspect’s looks.”

“No.” Morton’s jaw tightened. “It’s too late now. I have political enemies who would use the scandal to run me out of office. Besides, the police rarely solve anything. They don’t have the resources.”

“Could your political enemies be behind this?” Lara had to look at every possibility; it was the way she’d been trained.

Morton rolled his eyes. “Shooting me in broad daylight doesn’t seem like their style.”

“Could they have hired someone?”

“It’s possible but unlikely. Remember, Kirsten was killed too. I think this guy might be insane.”

“Why target you?”

“I don’t know. It may be related to the Gauntlet. Some people take it way too seriously.”

“You mean like that group from Iowa last year?”

“Exactly.”

Lara remembered the news story. Four men in their late twenties had been watching the Challenge in a bar and became infuriated when the Iowa contestant was given obstacles to overcome that his competitor had not faced. They’d gone berserk, smashing up tables in the bar, then stormed outside to overturn a car. They were on the freeway to Indiana when state police stopped them. The talking media heads had speculated the enraged men might have killed the first Indiana resident they came to if they hadn’t been apprehended.

“That was a bunch of idiot drunks. This guy seems focused and determined.”

“Do you still plan to run his image through the criminal database?”

“Of course.”

The commissioner’s iCom beeped, so he stepped away. After a moment, he turned to Lara. “I’m taking this in the other room and I’ll be a while. After you get what you need, just let yourself out.” He headed for what she assumed was a bedroom.

Lara saved a second clip with just Blondie’s face and sent it to the NetCom in her hotel room. She remembered the hotel manager had sent a file of the hallway footage to Morton. She scanned through the rest of the folder but didn’t see a video file labeled hotel or anything similar. Wondering if it was on Morton’s Dock, Lara glanced at the bedroom door and considered interrupting the commissioner to ask. He’d said he would be a while. She hated to wait and she didn’t want to have to come back for it either.

Lara moved quickly to the big desk where Morton had left his Dock. She would do a quick search for the hotel footage, then ask for it at the front desk if she didn’t find it. Not a single file appeared on his screen. Morton guarded his information. She was curious about the commissioner and skeptical of his denial of knowing who Blondie was. She decided to conduct a quick scan of his files. As a detective she’d searched a few devices and had learned from reformed hackers how to find and screen a directory.

She narrowed her search to just video files and was surprised to see a folder marked game room that had 422 files in it. The folder was password locked, piquing her curiosity, but clearly not what she was looking for. Lara moved on but didn’t see any files labeled hotel or hallway footage. She heard Morton’s voice near the bedroom door and quickly closed the search window.

As she scooted back to the small desk, he stepped out of the bedroom. “I have to get my Dock. Were you leaving?”

“Yes. Thanks for your help.” Lara grabbed her bag and headed out.

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