“It’s Detective Harper. I need to talk to you.”
Her shoulders relaxed at the familiar name, then tightened again.
“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.”
Harper tapped the auditorium photo. “Send this one to me.” He recited his number and Lara quickly sent the files to his iCom.
The detective stared at her for a long moment. “You’re the prettiest suspect I’ve interviewed in a long time.”
“Does that line ever work for you?”
He laughed. “I like you, Lara. Will you have dinner with me?”
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.”
“Will you join me anyway? Have a drink and keep me company while I eat? I have a long night of work ahead.”
She remembered what that was like. Sitting in the conference room at the department looking through bank statements and phone records until two in the morning. Eating cold Chinese food by herself while she worked. He seemed like a good man.
“Why not? It’ll be a relief to get out of this room for a while.”
“Where would you like to go?”
“I can’t leave the property without permission, so how about the restaurant downstairs?”
“Is it fancy? I’m not dressed for anything upscale.”
Lara laughed and pushed off the couch. “They cater to Gauntlet contestants and tourists. I doubt they have a dress code.”
“You haven’t eaten there?”
“No.” She had no intention of explaining her dietary peculiarities. “I’ll meet you down there in ten minutes.”
Lara changed out of her camera-happy competition clothes and into a pair of faded jeans. She put on a snug sleeveless blouse that she almost hadn’t packed. Slipping on some earrings, she chided herself for acting like she had a date and changed her mind about going. She picked up her iCom to text him, then reversed her decision, thinking it couldn’t hurt to have the detective on her side. Lara slipped on a pair of sandals and touched the ankle monitor. Maybe she could convince him to let her off surveillance.
The hostess led her to a cozy corner table. Detective Harper had put away his Dock and ordered a beer. An unexpected surge of pleasure filled her body. She hadn’t sat down to dinner with a man since Ben had been killed. She’d had a brief thing with her chiropractor a few years back, but that had been meaningless sex just to keep her from exploding. This dinner was meaningless too, Lara reminded herself. Just filling some time with an attractive man…who happened to be detective. Why were they always cops?
He stood when she arrived. “Lara.”
She loved the way he said her name, drawing out the first vowel like a caress.
He looked relieved to see her. “For a minute, I thought you had changed your mind.”
“For a minute, I thought I had too.” Lara smiled and sat.
“What can I get you to drink?”
She almost never drank alcohol and tomorrow was possibly the most important day of her life. “A glass of red wine, please.” A couple of sips, she told herself. To help her sleep. With no body fat and no solid food in her stomach, an entire glass would go straight to her head.
“I’m having a steak sandwich. What about you?”
“Just the wine. I already ate.”
“Okay.” He signaled their server and placed the order.
When the waitress was gone, he took a long drink of beer, then blurted out, “I’m jealous that you’re in the Gauntlet. Anybody who works out and considers themselves reasonably intelligent has a fantasy about competing in the contest…and winning.”
“I suspect that’s true. I was fascinated after watching it the first year and I started training immediately.”
“You must be incredibly dedicated. I know you beat out five firemen from Oregon to win the spot.”
“I can be a little obsessive.”
