Gold Medal Murder (12 page)

“So what do you think?” I asked Nancy.

“Well, we don't have any great suspects. Elisa and Alex have the know-how. Everybody has a bit of a motive. But no one feels like a lock.”

“No, I meant—local news or cable?” I wanted to see
what the coverage of today looked like. Nancy laughed.

“Let's try cable. I think I saw a CNN camera outside right before my car blew up.”

We flipped around, but most of the coverage of the Olympics ignored the bomb going off. I guessed they'd probably tried as hard as they could to keep it out of the news, the way they did with protests over human rights violations in different countries. The Olympics were all about athletic competition, international cooperation—and selling tickets. The last thing they wanted was bad press. One of the things you learned, being a secret agent and all, was that the news on the television was rarely the full story, or even half of it. What little coverage of the explosion we saw spun it as an “unexplained traffic accident,” and didn't mention the fact that it took place a mere two hundred feet from the Olympic Arena.

“Wait! Stop. That was us!” Bess yelled.

I flipped the channel back. There were Bess, Nancy, and George talking to Alex Smothers. The familiar Sportztime logo was in the corner, and beneath them were their names in Sportztime's font.

“Do you think this will negatively affect their performance in the games? Are they really focused on their performances, or are they too busy being ‘in love' to take all of this seriously?” said Alex's voice.

“I think that if they do poorly at the Olympics, it will
be because their relationship—,” said Bess. Then the camera cut away.

“What! That's so not what I said. He took that completely out of context!” Bess was on her feet, yelling at the television. Normally, she was so calm and chill. I'd never seen her flip like this.

“Hey. Relax. That's what these guys do,” said Nancy. “He's a professional gossip. Everyone knows not to believe a word that people say on his show.”

“Yeah, but now Lexi and Scott are going to think I'm out to get them!”

“I think Lexi, at least, knows which side you're on. And by the time all of this is over, so will Scott,” I said.

“Whatever. Let's turn it off.”

I ordered pizza from room service, and we talked over our suspects for a while.

“I think we're dealing with two people—at least,” said Frank.

“I agree. It doesn't seem like any one of our suspects could—or would—be doing all this on their own,” added Nancy. At least, I think that's what she said. Her mouth was so full of pizza it was kind of hard to make out what she was saying.

“Let's make a spreadsheet,” said George. “We need to get a full picture of all of our suspects, and who might be working together.” She pulled out her laptop and everyone gathered around.

“I think it's Elisa,” said Bess. “You can't trust these journalists. She hates Scott. And she used to date him or something, right? So she probably hates Lexi. Plus, she knows all about cameras and tech stuff.”

Suddenly, my phone rang. I read the display.

“Speak of the devil. Why is Elisa calling me?” I held up a hand and everyone grew quiet while I answered the phone.

“Hi, Elisa.” I was about to ask why she was calling, but Elisa cut me off.

“That explosion—that was about them, wasn't it? Scott and Lexi? There isn't much on the air about it, but I called around.” She sounded scared. And guilty.

“I can't really talk about that with you.” Who knew if this was just another ploy to try and get me to bad-mouth Scott on tape.

“Look, Joe. This isn't—I mean, I don't—I just…” Elisa went silent.

“Hello?” I said after a few seconds. I was afraid she'd hung up.

“There are some things I didn't tell you before. You have to believe me, I had no idea this would happen. I have some information. I need to give you something.”

Was she crying? What was going on?

“Sure. Of course. Where?”

“There's a parking lot about a half mile down the street from Scott's place. I can't go any closer, because
of the restraining order. I'll meet you there in thirty minutes.”

I was about to tell her I was in the city, not at Scott's place, but she hung up before I could say anything. When I tried to call her back, her phone was off.

“Looks like I'm headed out. Thank God ATAC got me that scooter.”

“Do you want someone to come with you?” Nancy offered.

“What, are you going to follow me in a cab? I'll be all right. I don't trust Elisa, but I don't think she's going to hurt me. Besides, someone needs to do the thinking part of this.” To tell the truth, our conversation had been going around in circles, and while I hoped they would figure something out, I was getting itchy just sitting around.

“All right,” said Bess. “But be careful. I'd hate to see that cute face end up on missing persons posters.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. Man, do girls love it when you put yourself in danger!

I leaped onto my scooter and took off through LA traffic. I would probably just make it in time.

Or be fifteen minutes late. By the time I pulled onto the long, mostly empty road that led to Scott's house, I'd had to weave my way through two traffic jams and one five-car accident. I don't know how people manage to get around that city on a daily basis!

The parking lot was dark when I got there, but I could make out one car sitting in the corner farthest from the street lights. As I drove up to it, my headlight illuminated the inside of the car, and I saw Elisa sitting in the front seat, looking at her lap.

I stopped my scooter and hopped off. Elisa remained in her car. I pulled open the passenger side door.

“Hey,” I said.

Elisa didn't look up. Something about the angle of her head was wrong. My heart started to pound.

“Elisa. Elisa! ELISA!” I yelled her name. She didn't respond. I tapped her shoulder, and she sagged against the door. Her hair moved, and I could see a vicious line of black and purple bruises around her neck. Someone had strangled her to death. Our number one suspect was now our number one victim.

I pulled off my T-shirt and put it around my right hand. I didn't want to leave behind any more fingerprints. I did a quick check of the car. Aside from a whole lot of take-out Chinese containers, it was pretty much empty. In Elisa's pocket, however, I found a portable flash drive. She said she had something she wanted to give me…

I grabbed it and got out of the car. A quick call to the same police officers we'd spoken with that afternoon, and the LAPD were on their way. I didn't have the time to stick around and talk to them. Someone was making
their move, and I only hoped I could stop them before the body count got any higher.

I checked my watch. A little after ten. The gala should have ended, so I called Scott.

“Where are you?” I said as soon as he picked up.

“We just got back to my house.” He must have driven right past me. Then I realized what he had said.

“We?”

“Lexi's here with me. She was so freaked out by what happened this afternoon, she didn't want to go back to the Starlet.”

“Stay where you are. Don't let anyone in the house. I'm on my way.”

I flipped my phone closed. I needed to make sure they were all right. And I needed Scott to tell me what he'd been hiding. What was really going on between him and Elisa? Why had he fired her? Was it worth killing her over? And what was on that flash drive?

“Joe? What's going on?” I barely it made through the door before Scott and Lexi were right on top of me. They both look scared. Scott was so nervous he hadn't even bothered to put away the bag of swag that he had received at the gala. It was sitting in plain view on the table, with a watch and a bottle of cologne pouring out of it. He was too upset to clean—it was a new low for him.

“Elisa is dead.”

“What??” Scott collapsed into a chair.

I explained what had happened in the last hour.

“It's all my fault,” he whispered into his clenched hands. It sounded like he was crying. Lexi stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder.

“I need to know what was going on between the two of you, Scott. Why did you fire her? She hinted that the two of you were in a relationship. Tell me the truth, or we might never know why she was killed.”

Scott sat silently, shaking his head. It was Lexi who spoke.

“They
weren't
dating. Scott hired her because she looked like me. We were trying to keep our relationship a secret, and when photos of Scott with a ‘unnamed woman' started popping up in the tabloids, Scott thought we could continue to fool everyone. When that didn't work, Scott asked Elisa to pretend they were dating. It was all because of me. I was afraid if my father found out we were dating, he'd never let me see Scott again.”

She stopped.

“So what happened? Why'd you fire her?”

“Because she stopped pretending,” Scott spoke up. “She really fell for me. I had no idea—until she outed Lexi and me to Lexi's father. She was trying to break us up. I fired her the next day. Ever since, she's had this vendetta against me. But it's my fault—I asked her to
pretend to be in love with me. I got her involved with all of this. And now… I've gotten her killed.”

Scott's voice broke. He started crying. I looked away as Lexi put her arms around him.

“Scott… I promise you, we'll find out who did this. This isn't your fault. She called me. She was involved in something. She wanted to help you. The only person responsible for this is the person who killed her. Not you.”

He didn't answer. I knew it wasn't much, but I hoped at some point he'd be able to hear what I'd said. In the distance, I heard sirens approaching, and knew the cops were coming to investigate Elisa's body. I checked the security alarms on the building and said good-bye. Lexi promised she'd look after him. Then I headed back to Nancy's hotel.

It had already been a long day. It looked like it was going to be an even longer night.

In exactly one day, two of my friends were either going to be competing for gold medals, or—the way this case was going—they were going to be dead. It's not the kind of thought that leads to a good night's sleep. After Joe got back from meeting up with Elisa, or what was left of her, I think it's safe to say that none of us slept well. Except maybe George, who can sleep anywhere, anytime. And I heard the snoring to prove it.

“Pass the… you know. That.” Frank pointed at the bottle of ketchup at my elbow. He seemed to be about as awake as I was. Silently, I handed the bottle to him, and watched as he covered his eggs, toast, and hash browns in a thick layer of ketchup.

“Dude, you want some breakfast with that ketchup?” asked Joe.

“No,” said Frank.

We all ate in silence for a few more minutes. We'd all met up at the Moonbeam Diner again for breakfast to go over our plans one last time. George and Bess had already left—they were going to be watching over Lexi today. Bess had her pepper spray on her and George had something she'd made out of parts of her old computer and a few big batteries. She said it was like a Taser. I pitied the fool who tried to hurt Lexi on their watch. That freed up Joe and me to go talk to Vijay. I was eager to meet another ATAC agent in the flesh. Plus, I was hoping he'd be able to decode what was on the flash drive Joe had found on Elisa's body. George popped it into her laptop last night, but she'd realized pretty quickly that the encryption was beyond what she could handle without her full computer setup. As for Frank…

“So, ready for your close-up?” Joe ran his hand through Frank's hair. “They're going to need to send you to wardrobe first. And makeup. Maybe the plastic surgery department.”

Frank threw a ketchup-covered piece of potato at Joe. He was not looking forward to spending his day at an all-day shoot with Scott and Alex. It gave him a chance to watch them both, but it meant a lot of sitting
around, and a lot of being interviewed—two of his least favorite things.

While Joe picked potato out of his hair, I signaled the waitress for the check.

“All right boys, time for us to get out of here.” I was eager to get on the road. This was our murderer's last chance to stop Scott and Lexi from competing in the Olympics, and I was pretty sure that whoever they were, they weren't sitting around having a food fight. I gulped down the last of my coffee as we headed out the door.

“Here, take this,” said Joe as he thrust a helmet in my direction. “Hold on to me as tight as you can. Don't worry; my rock-hard abs can take it.”

“Rock-hard abs? And here I thought that was the milk shake you had for breakfast settling.”

Joe laughed, and we hopped on his scooter and zoomed into downtown LA. I was still mourning the loss of my car, especially after all the work that George and Bess had put into it. But I had to admit, there was a freedom to the scooter that I enjoyed. You felt like you could go anywhere. Maybe when this was all over I'd look and see if they had a sky blue model.

We were at Vijay's hotel in no time.

“Try not to drool,” Joe warned me as we parked the scooter. “Vijay definitely scored the best place this time around.”

“Wow, you're not kidding. This makes that resort we stayed at in Florida look like a cheap motel.”

Like everything else in LA, the hotel was glass and chrome everywhere. But this place had infused all of that with some of the old-school Hollywood glamour. Everything was art deco fabulousness. Bess would have died to have gotten a look at the place.

As the elevator doors closed around us, the orchestral music faded out, and a voice crackled over the stereo.