The Gauntlet Assassin (An Action Thriller)

by L. J. Sellers

  Chapter 25

  March 14, 6:55 a.m.

  Paul couldn’t stop staring at himself in the mirror. The swelling in his chin was down and he’d gone back to work yesterday after recovering over the weekend. Inserting an implant was not nearly as traumatic as removing attached tissue, the aesthetic surgeon had explained. Paul turned his head and admired his new profile. He loved the definition! Why had he waited so long to do this? Why didn’t everybody with a recessed chin do this?

  The $13,350 cost came to mind. Paul felt sorry for people without the means to pay for it. Procedures like this one could transform a person’s life, opening up career and relationship opportunities that had never existed before. He felt like a new person and couldn’t wait to show off his improved profile. It occurred to him that he might eventually find a better job for himself. There was nothing wrong with software management, but he’d entered the field because it was a behind-the-scenes position, and he’d assumed his homely looks wouldn’t work against him in employment interviews.

  He ate breakfast and dressed for work, stopping occasionally to run his finger along the scar in the soft tissue under his new chin. Such a small incision, such a huge improvement.

  “Tonight’s the night,” he said to Lilly as he took her out for her morning stretch. “How can Camille say no to this face?”

  The afternoon dragged by as Paul grew more excited—and anxious—about his evening plans. He and Camille had been to dinner several times and once to a movie, but she hadn’t allowed him to go much farther than kissing and touching. She said she wanted them to take things slowly and get to know each other before committing to a sexual relationship. Paul understood and was trying to be patient, but they were both in their thirties and life was short.

  His message center flashed and Paul tapped it open. Stacia’s face appeared. “Will you come to my office please? There’s someone here to see you.” She clicked off before he could respond.

  Paul’s heart fluttered as he imagined possible scenarios. Was this about the replacement database? He pushed out of his chair and glanced around his office. Should he bring his briefcase? Would he be fired or arrested?

  His last mission had gone smoothly. Terrance Kettering had paid up front without any shenanigans, Brentwood had resigned under pressure, and with a little push from Paul, Kettering had landed the position. Brentwood claimed he’d been hacked and framed, but no one believed him. Was it all a sting? Had he been the one to be set up?

  Paul willed himself to be calm. He picked up his Dock and strolled down the hall, running into Camille, who was just heading back to her office. “Hey, Camille.”

  “Hello, Paul.” She examined his chin as he stepped closer. “You look terrific.” She kept her voice low and her hands at her sides.

  “Thanks. I love it.” He wanted to talk about the procedure but this was not the time or place. “Did you just come from Stacia’s office?”

  “Yes. Someone from the FBI is asking about access to employee records. Are you headed in there?”

  The FBI. Oh dear god. “Should I be nervous?”

  She gave a devious little grin. “That depends on what you’ve been up to.”

  Paul tried to come up with a joke, but his throat was dry. “Wish me luck. I’ll see you tonight.”

  The black-suited man in Stacia’s office had a boyish look, round-faced and chubby. Paul relaxed a little.

  “This is Agent Franklin with the FBI,” Camille said. “He’s here asking about the federal employee databases we have the privilege of maintaining.”

  Paul nodded. “How can I help you?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

  “In the last five months, two federal employees have claimed their message systems were hacked and a saboteur sent fraudulent messages in their names. We’re looking into it.” Franklin shifted forward, unwedging himself from the narrow chair. “You’re one of ten people in this office who has access to personnel files. Have you noticed any irregularities?”

  “No, I haven’t.” Paul resisted the urge to embellish.

  Franklin gave him a piercing look. “Have you ever sent any phony messages, even as a joke?”

  “Never.” Paul forced himself to meet the agent’s eyes. “I take the privacy and security issues I’m trusted with very seriously.”

  “Do you have any idea who might send sexually implicit messages?”

  “No one I work with here would do anything like that.”

  Stacia added, “I’ll also vouch for everyone in my department.”

  Agent Franklin glanced at Paul. “I’ll run a program that will screen the personnel databases for irregularities and see what I find.”

  Paul sensed the conversation was over, but he waited to be dismissed.

  After a moment Agent Franklin said, “Thanks for your time.”

  Stomach churning, Paul nodded and left. As worried as he was about the FBI scrubbing their system for digital fingerprints, he was relieved the agent had not mentioned the Department of Energy position.

  He assumed Olbert had not reported getting an email offering to sell it. Thank god. Investigators would take job manipulation far more seriously than prank skin shots and sexual offers. That kind of crap happened so often it was impossible to catch or stop. Paul tried to push the worry out of his mind. They wouldn’t find anything that pointed directly at him, and he’d conducted his final arrangement. It would all blow over, he told himself. He had to focus on his date with Camille. Tonight was pivotal for their relationship, and he needed to be more charming than he’d ever been in his life.

  After dinner at Georgio’s, they climbed in Paul’s car and headed for Camille’s house in Capitol Heights. Rain beat down on the metal roof and they could barely make conversation. As they turned off Central Avenue, Camille suddenly asked, “Would you alter personnel files if you had a good reason?”

  “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 tongu
e, 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.