I returned to my room, dejected about what a fiasco the investigation had become. Not only had I learned nothing from Michael and Tek, but they obviously were going to tell Jon I’d been sniffing around about drugs. One of my main suspects was going to know I was onto him.
But maybe that’s a good thing, I thought. If Michael and Tek told Jon I was a potential buyer, maybe he would come to me hoping to make a sale. Then I could snag him on the spot.
Of course, that was a doubtful scenario. Jon had already accused me of stalking him. It was much more likely that he would realize I was a cop who had been trailing him from the beginning.
I had totally screwed up.
Danielle was out, so I had the room to myself. I sat down at my desk thinking about the disparate images I had of Jon. Michael and Tek thought he was some kind of naïve innocent, but Tad thought he was a valid suspect. He had seemed so disaffected and rude when I first met him, but then at the ski lodge he’d become talkative and attentive and sweet. Which of these discordant Jons was the real one?
There was a knock at the door and I was dilatory in responding. I didn’t want to lose my train of thought. But the pounding became more and more ardent, so I made myself trudge across the room. When I opened the door, I found David standing there, his face hard, his eyes accusatory. Somewhere in the back of my head, my death knell sounded. I knew what he was going to say before he said it, and I was inclined to hurdle him and head for the hills. But it was too late for that.
“Hi, David,” I said, reticent.
“Hello, Kim Stratford.”
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