Gold Medal Murder (14 page)

“It's okay. This is one of the risks of going undercover. You have to lie to your friends just as much as to your enemies.”

“I'm sorry I tackled you though. And punched you. What were you doing in here, anyway?”

“Looking for this.”

In our scuffle, the picture had fallen to the ground, facedown. Luckily, the frame hadn't broken, or we would have been rolling on broken glass.

I lifted it up and turned it over.

There was Lexi, with her arm around Scott. And right next to him, on the other side, was that swimmer, Isabelle Helene. And boy, did she look pissed. That's when it all came together in my head. Isabelle liked Scott. Therefore, she had reason to hate Lexi. She hadn't ripped Lexi out of this photo—she'd ripped out herself and Scott! And the chlorine residue Vijay found on it wasn't used on purpose to destroy her fingerprints, it was just the chlorine from the swimming pools!

“What's so important about that photo?”

“Someone tore it in half and stole part of it from Lexi's locker. We think it's the same person who was threatening her. We knew it had to be someone with access to the entire Olympic Arena, since they were able to tamper with Lexi's locker and her fencing equipment. And I'm pretty sure that it's Isabelle!”

“No!” Scott gasped.

“I know she's your friend and teammate, but—”

“No, that isn't it! She told me today that she and Lexi were getting closer, and that she wanted to stop by Lexi's hotel and surprise her tonight. You know, wish her luck before the games started. So I told her Lexi was staying at the Starlet Grand Hotel.”

“Uh-oh. We've got to get someone over there now.”

I called Nancy. She'd been at the Olympic Arena. With any luck, she was still with Lexi.

“Hey, Nancy. Lexi's in danger. Isabelle is after her
and has her address. I can't explain now. Is she there with you?”

“No—she headed back a little while ago. I only have the scooter, so I couldn't give her a ride. I'm right outside Vijay's place. He was going through the tapes from the arena, trying to see if he could find who was messing with Lexi's stuff, so I thought I would check in. But Joe headed back to the Starlet earlier—maybe he's still there!”

“I'll give him a call.”

“I'm going to try and call Lexi to warn her.”

“All right. Stay in touch.”

I hung up and dialed Joe.

“Code Red Joe. Isabelle Helene is headed to the Starlet, and I'm pretty sure she's out to kill Lexi.”

“Damn! I went out for dinner. I'm running back, but it's going to take me a while.”

“Get there as fast as you can.

I was running before I even got off the phone with Frank. I'd decided to go out for a long walk before dinner, in the hopes that some brilliant answer would come to me. And now, one had come—over the phone, when I was possibly too far away to make a difference. I tried to reassure myself. Maybe Lexi wasn't even at The Starlet. Maybe Frank was wrong. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I'd gone all of three blocks when something caught my eye: a motorcycle dealership on the corner, which was just closing up shop. I'd never gotten to ride the bike we had on our last mission, except piggyback on Frank. But I had a lot of experience with the scooter, and ATAC did give us “emergency credit cards” for situations just like this.

Three minutes and a whole lot of money later, I was kick-starting the engine on a brand new Kawasaki Ninja. This was a bike built for speed. It was bright yellow, and to ride it you bent so far forward you were almost lying down. It was a sharp, aerodynamic needle of a vehicle. It had such a sweet engine, it wasn't even that loud, it just buzzed like a trail of hornets in my wake. Five minutes later, I pulled up in front of the Starlet.

I left the bike behind a bush in front of one of the side entrances. I couldn't take the time to give it to the valet, and I figured I might need it soon, so I couldn't just park it somewhere around the block. Hopefully, it would still be there when I got back.

I entered the lobby, only to run smack into what seemed to be every tourist in LA.

“I'm so excited about the games! I just can't wait to see those Ryan twins compete. They are too cute!”

“Is this your first time at the Olympics?”

“I just want to see a movie star! I swear, if I don't see Brad and Angelina before the week is out, I'm asking someone for my money back.”

It was a sea of people in red, white, and blue shirts. With the Olympics starting tomorrow, everyone was in town, and the Starlet had more guests than it could handle. And all of them, it seemed, were standing in my way.

“Excuse me. Sorry! Pardon me.”

I tried to push my way to the elevators, but once I saw the line for them, I gave up. It would take me longer to get to Lexi's floor than it had taken me to get to the hotel!

Then I spotted the entrance to the emergency stairs, partially hidden behind a potted plant. I yanked the door open and started running. Nancy had been on the thirteenth floor, and Lexi was on the floor above her, so that meant I had… a long way to go.

I hit the stairs in what must have been record time. If there were a StairMaster event in the Olympics, I would have been a shoo-in for a gold medal.

“Hello? Lexi!”

I pounded on her door. There was no answer.
Maybe
, I thought hopefully,
she isn't even here.

I put my ear to the door. There was a squeak on the other side. It could have been anything: the wood settling, someone walking in the hallway, my imagination. Or it could have been a muffled scream.

Better safe than sorry
, I thought.

I stepped back, took a deep breath, and delivered a wicked sidekick to the door.

CRASH
!

The door flew inward. Lexi was standing directly in front of it. Behind her stood Isabelle with one hand clamped firmly over Lexi's mouth. The other held her wrist behind her back. Behind them, Bess and George were tied up on the floor.

Before I could get more than one foot in the room, Isabelle threw Lexi right at me. She slammed into my chest, and I managed to get my arms around her and keep us both from hitting the ground, but it was a close call. A split second later, Isabelle bodychecked us on the way out the door, and we went down in a heap.
Damn!
I thought as I hurtled into the floor,
she's strong
.

“Are you all okay?” I asked Lexi as I disentangled myself from her. I looked at Bess and George. Aside from a bad bruise on Bess's cheek, and a ragged cut on George's arm, they looked fine.

“I… I think so. She forced the door open and—”

“Look, if you're not hurt, I need you to cut them free and call the police.” I tossed my pocketknife at Lexi. “Does the bathroom here have a lock?”

Lexi nodded yes.

“Good. Lock yourselves in and wait for the police. I don't care who else shows up—don't let anyone in. I'm going after Isabelle.”

Lexi nodded. I helped her up and took off running out the doorway.

“Be careful!” I heard her yell. Then I heard the sound of two doors slamming. One came from Lexi's suite—it must have been the bathroom. The other came from in front of me, and I would bet anything it was Isabelle heading down the emergency stairs.

“Stop!” I screamed down the staircase. I could hear
footsteps below me, and I thought I caught a glimpse of her as she turned a corner, but that was it. No response.

Right
, I thought,
because after all she's done, she's going to give up just because I yelled “stop.”

Looked like it was time to break my stair-climbing record. At least this time I was headed down, not up. But despite everything, I couldn't close the gap between us. I couldn't even keep up. By the time she hit the last step, I was a floor and a half behind her.

Thankfully, nothing she could do could get her through the lobby any faster. I heard angry shouts as she tried to push her way into the crowds. I exited the stairwell just in time to see her leaving by the main entrance.

It's got to be here somewhere
, I thought. I looked around. There! Forty feet from me there was a service door that led out to the other side of the building. It must have been the door I'd hidden my bike next to. I pushed my way over to it, and was outside in just a few seconds.

Success! It was the right door, and my bike was still there. I leaped on and spun out into the street. I turned the corner to the front entrance of Starlet Grand, just in time to see Isabelle disappearing inside a low-to-the-ground imported silver sports car. The kind of vehicle that you saw in movies about royalty in Monaco. I groaned internally. There went my hopes that she was driving some sort of compact or station
wagon. It would be an even race between my bike and her car.

Or at least, it would have been in any other city. But in LA, smaller was better. I could outmaneuver her any day of the week. As soon as we hit traffic, I had her.

That is, if I could keep up with her that long. She drove like a NASCAR racer, shifting and weaving through lanes of traffic. She ignored red lights and stop lights, and left screaming pedestrians and swerving vehicles in her wake. It was all I could do to keep her in sight and avoid hitting anyone.

Any minute now,
I thought,
we'll hit some famous LA traffic.

But the minutes kept passing, and the streets stayed clear. Of course, she was from LA—she knew how to navigate the city.

Suddenly, Isabelle pulled a hard turn to the left. I heard her tires squeal as she spun out of control. Or at least, it looked like she was out of control. A second before she hit the wall, she threw the car in reverse, spun the wheel in the other direction, and was suddenly heading back the way we'd come. She'd just done a U-turn without ever going below sixty miles an hour. And unfortunately, I'd seen most of it in my rearview mirror as I flew past her.

I watched her turn left down a one-way street and disappear. I didn't have time to wait for traffic anymore.
I had to get to her before she managed to lose me. This was her city—it was only a matter of time before she managed to shake me.

If I tried to catch up with her now, I was bound to lose her. What I needed to do was get in front of her. Instead of heading back and following her, I took my next right, hoping the street would run parallel to the one she'd taken. I edged the bike faster and faster, watching the speedometer hit one hundred and keep going. When other cars appeared, I rode up onto the sidewalk. When there were pedestrians, I cut back to the street. I skipped through a narrow gap between a fruit vendor and a parked car.

CRACK!

My left side mirror snapped off like a wishbone breaking. The bike wobbled for a second, but I managed to keep going. There went any chance I had of returning the bike and getting my money back when this was over. Maybe ATAC would let me keep it…

One block passed by. Then another. As I reached a third intersection, I decided this was it. I'd either gained enough ground, and could turn down this street and intercept her, or she was gone and I needed to call ATAC for reinforcements.

Damn, I'm good
, I thought as I pulled a hard left turn that put me within inches of her silver car door. Even over the noise of the wind and the traffic, I could hear
her scream of rage. I accelerated rapidly, putting myself just in front of her and to the left. And just in time, too, as she slammed her car to the left in an effort to sideswipe me. As Isabelle's car passed behind me, I slowed down suddenly, until I was right next to her passenger side door. With a quick wish for good luck, I grabbed the handle, yanked the door open, and threw myself in.

Before I had a chance to even gain my bearings, Isabelle was on me. She wasn't giving up without a fight. Her right hand slammed straight into my head.

“Get out of my car!” she screamed.

It was all I could do to brace myself against the doorframe to keep from being pushed out right into oncoming traffic. I twisted my neck this way and that, hoping to break her grip, but she had my head palmed in her strong hand. I could feel myself being inched out of the car.

“Give it up. The police are on their way.” I had no idea if that was true, but it was the sort of line that people fell for. Isabelle didn't respond; she just pushed harder against my head. This was starting to hurt. One of my legs was completely out of the car now, and I could feel the surface of the road scratching off the tip of my shoe.

Well, I hate to fight dirty, but…

I had no time to play fair. I shifted my head again, until her hand was partially over my mouth.

Chomp!

I bit down as hard as I could on her hand. Isabelle screamed, and I tasted something warm and salty in my mouth. She yanked her hand back, pulling me with her. My teeth were still clamped down on her hand. I couldn't let go yet. I needed to distract her for just a second more.

My foot groped along the floor of the car. While Isabelle was distracted trying to get me off of her hand, I yanked the seat belt over me and clicked it into place. Then I let go of her hand and pounded my foot down on the brake.

Even with my belt on, the whiplash felt like it was going to tear my head right off. My chin slammed into my chest, and then rebounded back, driving my skull into the seat. For Isabelle, the impact was even worse. Her head slammed straight into the steering wheel. By the time the car had come to a complete halt a few seconds later, she was barely conscious. But even then, she put up a fight. As I reached over to unbuckle her belt and see how seriously she was injured, she threw a weak punch at my face. I blocked it easily, and checked her pulse to make sure she was okay. I could hear a siren in the distance—police or ambulance, we'd be out of here soon.