The Gauntlet Assassin (22 page)

“That depends.” He glanced over to read her expression, but couldn’t tell much in the dark interior.

“Would you alter something for me?” She stroked his shoulder.

“I would do almost anything for you, Camille.” Paul paused. “Especially if we were lovers.”

“That’s good to know.”

Paul pulled into her driveway and shut off the car. “Do you have something specific in mind?”

“Come inside and we’ll talk about it.”

Camille poured two glasses of wine and they snuggled together on her couch, as they had on their last date. After a few minutes of kissing, Paul’s groin was almost bursting with anticipation. He distracted himself with occasional thoughts of Agent Franklin just to keep under control.

Lips pressed to his, Camille whispered, “I want you to add my name to the employment commissioner’s replacement list.”

“I’d have to delete someone else.” Paul slid his hand up Camille’s short red dress. She wasn’t wearing underwear and he almost came.

“I know.” She let him rub his finger over her clitoris. “No one will ever check the database, will they?” She sounded breathy.

Paul hoped it was his caress rather than her ambition making her horny. “Not unless something happens to Morton.” Paul could barely form the sentence. His erection wanted out of his pants and into her wet bliss.

“Will you do it for me?”

“I’ll think about it.” Manipulation was new to him, but he understood he had to prolong her quest for as long as possible.

“Maybe I can help you make up your mind.” Camille unzipped his pants and freed his penis. “Oh my. You are nicely sized.”

Paul grabbed her hand. “Let’s get our clothes off.”

He stood and led her to the bedroom. His pulse pounded in his ears. It was finally happening! He prayed their sex wouldn’t be a disaster.

Yet it was. Paul knew Camille was disappointed. His orgasm had come too quickly, despite his attempts to delay it with random negative thoughts. After rolling off her, he’d tried to bring her to a climax with his tongue, but she’d grown frustrated with his inexperienced effort. Now Camille was in the bathroom and he wondered what he was supposed to do next. His body wanted to sleep, but he suspected she would ask him to leave.

Camille came out of the master bath, wearing a robe.

“Should I stay or go?”

“You’re staying.” She reached into the nightstand and pulled out a small white tube. “Let’s try that again. I think you can do better.”

Chapter 26

Wed., May 10, 9:55 p.m.

Lara brushed her disheveled hair and wondered what the fallout would be. The sex had been incredible, but she’d been celibate for so long, even bad sex would have seemed good. Caden had been forceful and hot in the beginning, burning straight through any hesitation she might have had, then tender and slow for the long haul. Just the way she liked it.

The encounter didn’t mean anything, she told herself. They were just two horny people who’d found some pleasure in each other’s company. Lara drank a glass of water and gave herself a minute to think. The contest rules forbade sexual encounters between contestants, but didn’t mention other circumstances. Still, she felt vulnerable, knowing Minda needed only one more reason to scratch her from the Gauntlet. She had to get Caden out of her room and get some sleep before her first round in the Battle tomorrow.

Lara opened the bathroom door and he was standing there, naked and smiling, his sexy eyes making her want to trust him. She started to back away, but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him. He kissed her forehead and worked his way down to her neck.

“You have to go,” Lara said, with little conviction. “I have to get some sleep.”

“I know,” he whispered, still kissing her neck.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself another moment of pleasure. Finally, she pulled back. “This might be against the competition rules and I don’t want to risk getting booted.”

He grabbed both her hands and held her eyes with his. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me about the man who killed Kirsten. I watched the video in the auditorium. When he saw you coming, he looked startled. He recognized you, then turned and fled.” Caden stepped toward her. “Please tell me. I’m a detective, and I can’t do my job without all the facts. You understand that.”

She did, but she also felt used. “Is that why you slept with me? To get the information you needed?”

He let out a soft laugh. “I fantasized about seducing you six months ago when you made the finals in the Oregon competition. Believe me, it was all pleasure.”

Any kind of attachment was not what she had in mind. Lara moved past Caden and grabbed her clothes from the floor. Her emotions were in turmoil and she regretted acting on her sexual impulses.
Damn
. When would she learn?

They dressed in silence and the guilt of not helping his investigation weighed heavily on her heart. What if Blondie killed the commissioner while she was competing tomorrow? How would she live with that? Intellectually, she knew she wasn’t responsible for Thaddeus Morton, but once she’d treated his wound and kept his secret, she’d taken ownership of his problem. Still, she couldn’t deal with Blondie and compete at the same time.

Dressed, she turned to Caden. “I’ll tell you what I can but you have to promise that most of it will never go in your file.”

“I don’t know.” He lifted his shoulders in frustration.

“Then I can’t tell you. I have too much to lose.” She looked at the door, willing him to leave.

“Come sit down and talk to me. We’ll take it one step at a time.” His eyes pleaded with her.

“I need your promise it won’t be part of the official record.”

“I promise.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him—cops lied to suspects—but she’d wanted to get the gunshot incident off her chest since it happened. Lara sat on the couch and he took a seat opposite her, just as they had earlier. She realized if she’d told him everything at that point, they wouldn’t have gone to dinner or ended up in bed. Maybe things had worked out this way for a reason. She scratched the thought and scoffed at herself. Shit happened and there was no rhyme or reason.

“Who is he?” Caden prompted.

Lara knew she shouldn’t think of him as Caden. “I really don’t know. I call the guy Blondie for lack of a name.” She took a deep breath. “I saw him in Eugene the day before I flew out here.”

Caden waited, like a good detective should.

“I responded to an emergency call through the freelance service I contract with. When I arrived at the house, a man came running out. He had a gun and when he saw me he fired. But I hit the ground and he got in his car and drove away.” Caden would want the details of the car, but not yet. Her throat felt dry.

“Do you want some water?” He was out his chair and headed for the sink before she could respond.

When he returned, she continued. “Inside the house, a man had been shot and I treated his shoulder wound. He begged me not to report the incident. He said Blondie was his lover and they’d had a fight. Considering how the victim was dressed at the time, I believed him.”

“Why didn’t you report it?”

Lara swallowed hard. “I was scheduled to compete in the Gauntlet. I didn’t want anything to derail that. I need this win.”

“I don’t understand. You were just doing your job.” Caden looked confused.

“The man with the gunshot wound was Thaddeus Morton, the employment commissioner.”

She watched him control his surprise, then process the information. After a long moment, Caden asked, “Did Morton threaten to sabotage you in the competition if you reported it?”

“More or less.”

Caden shook his head. “If the shooter is the commissioner’s boyfriend, why would he kill Kirsten?”

“He’s not Morton’s boyfriend. The commissioner made that up to minimize the incident, hoping I would forget the whole thing. Then Blondie showed up here and Kirsten ended up dead. I think Blondie meant to silence me and stupidly stunned Kirsten by mistake. I confronted the commissioner about it and he claims to have no idea who the shooter his. I think I believe him.”

“Wow.” Caden shook his head. “It’s certainly not what I expected to hear.”

“The shooting was the last thing I needed going into this competition. Being arrested for murder was the frosting on this whole shit cake of an incident.”

They were both quiet. Then Caden said, “I need to talk to the commissioner.”

“You can’t. If he finds out I told you, he might ruin my chance of winning. He’s worried about losing his position.”

“Then why did you tell me all this?”

“Because I want you to find Blondie before he kills Morton—or me. The commissioner thinks the shooter might be some crazy guy obsessed with the Gauntlet.” Lara shifted in her chair. “If I wasn’t competing throughout the next two days, I’d find him myself.”

Caden’s expression softened and he almost smiled. “I believe you would. I just don’t know how I’m going to tie Kirsten’s death to the shooting of a federal employee without mentioning—”

He stopped cold and she watched him make a mental connection.

“What is it? You know something about Morton.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“That’s not fair. I told you what I know.”

“This is different. It’s another investigation involving federal employees, and now I’m wondering if they’re connected.”

Lara itched to know everything. She loved working complex cases and wanted to help with this one. “I used to be a detective and I’m good at making connections.”

“I have to look at a file first.” Caden leaned forward as if to get up. “Anything else you should tell me?”

“No.”
Except the last four hours had been the best she’d spent in many years.
“Can you get the charges against me dropped?” Lara held up her ankle, indicating the monitor.

“I’ll try.” He kissed her gently. “I wish we had more time and different circumstances.”

“Story of my life.”

Caden Harper walked out and Lara wondered if she would ever see him again.

Chapter 27

Thurs., May 11, 8:05 a.m.

Lara slept soundly for the first time in ages and rose late, happy she didn’t compete until noon. After a protein shake, she went for a short run, then spent an hour stretching and practicing defense moves. Caden kept intruding into her thoughts, but she suppressed him. She didn’t let herself dwell on the shooter either. The next phase of the competition would be the most challenging. No one made it into the Gauntlet without having superior hand-to-hand combat skills. She would have the disadvantage of being smaller than the other contestants. Would her speed and training overcome that? Doubt flooded her and she had to block it with positive self-talk.

At eleven, Lara caught a shuttle to the Battle arena, ignoring the other contestant in the van. He wasn’t her challenger in the first round, and she didn’t want to be distracted or discouraged. They pulled into the parking area at the north end of the property and she noted it was full of cars, many of them new expensive hybrids. The hand-to-hand combat would have in-house spectators, a thought that filled her with dread. What if they rooted against her? A disapproving crowd could be demoralizing.

A reporter rushed up when she entered the lobby. Lara recognized Jessie Stark from CNC Broadcasting, who’d interviewed her before the orientation. Jessie signaled to her cameraman to roll.

“We’re live with Lara Evans of Oregon, who’s about to enter the Battle arena for a round of combat with Sam Duggar of Texas. Lara, you’re five-five and 126 pounds. Sam is six-two and 205 pounds. Do you believe that was a random assignment?”

“Of course,” Lara lied. “There are only eleven other competitors left, and any of them would be tough to beat.” She felt strongly the tournament matchups were calculated, despite claims they were software generated. Both the director and the commissioner wanted her to go away.

“The internet is buzzing with the rumor that the director set you up to be eliminated, and our recent poll says the viewers are pissed off and rooting for you.”

The news pleased Lara, but voters couldn’t help or hurt her inside the Battle circle. It was pure competition with the loser of each round going home. But viewers could add significantly to her points if she won each round. “I hope to win and earn their support.”

“Do you have a strategy?”

“Stay low and wear him down.” Lara grinned. “What else can I say? I’m fighting for jobs for my state, and a lot of good people are counting on me. I’m not going down without giving Sam Duggar the battle of his life.”

“Good luck in there.”

Lara strode through the lobby, passing the wide entrance of the arena where hundreds of spectators filled the grandstands. The sight of all those faces looking down made her feel small and vulnerable. She sucked in oxygen in rapid breaths and focused on the match. She would fight as though her life depended on it. In some ways it did. This was her chance to made amends, to earn some peace of mind and maybe forgive herself.

Minda and her co-host were waiting in the small locker room. Lara stashed her shoulder bag in a locker, then endured another round of viewer-hype chat. She tried to keep her answers fresh and snappy for the audience, but she was tired of the camera in her face. She just wanted to compete.

At ten minutes before noon, they walked into the Battle arena. The crowd roared, filling her veins with adrenaline. Thank god they were supportive. She would need every advantage.

“Wait on this bench until you’re called, then walk out onto the platform.” Minda gave her instructions, then trotted off with her entourage. The group walked around the twenty-foot circular platform, keeping off the thick surrounding mat. The director headed for the adjacent locker room to speak with Sam Duggar.

Lara took a seat on the small bench and closed her eyes. To calm her nerves and empty her mind, she hummed a deep repetitive chant from her long-ago yoga days.

The crowd started clapping. She opened her eyes and watched Sam enter the arena. The cheer for her opponent faded quickly. Lara bounced on her toes, waiting to be called.