Colorado Crime Scene. Cindi Myers

and find out what they knew. Other members of the team had probably already conducted interviews, but he wanted to hear the information firsthand. It was possible the suspect had made friends who knew where he lived. Certainly, they’d have a name, though whether or not it was the man’s real identity was doubtful.

      And he needed to figure out if Morgan’s brother, Scott, had anything to do with the suspect. Maybe he was merely holding the door open for a coworker, but the two had fled together. Luke needed to know why.

      A block from the hotel, a woman moved out of the shadows ahead of him. The streetlights shimmered on the blue of her dress, and a gusty breeze tugged at her short hair. Luke straightened. “Morgan, what are you doing here?” he asked.

      “I was waiting for you.” She moved in close beside him, almost but not quite touching him. She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder toward the front door of the hotel and Luke saw the reason for her nerves: half a dozen news vans crowded the curb and men and women with cameras and microphones filled the portico in front of the entrance, everyone jostling to report the big story of the night.

      Luke took her arm and directed her across the street, to a bench at an empty bus stop. “We can talk here,” he said. “How are you doing?”

      “Okay,” she said, though her pinched face and hunched shoulders belied the answer. “Did you find him?”

      By “him” did she mean her brother or the suspect? “They both had a big head start on me. I found a witness who said they split up at the end of the alley and ran in opposite directions.”

      “I’m sure Scott only ran because he was confused and frightened,” she said. “He’s never liked tense situations, but even more so since he’s been diagnosed.”

      He nodded. “I’d like to talk to him and find out what he knows about my suspect.”

      “I talked to Gary and he said Scott had been working as a dishwasher only three days,” she said.

      “Who’s Gary?”

      “Oh, he’s the chef. Gary Forneaux. After you left I offered to bring him a drink from the hotel bar and he calmed down quite a bit. He told me they’d needed extra help for the banquet, so they’d agreed to hire Scott on a trial basis.”

      “Do you think that’s how he’s been supporting himself—working temporary jobs in whatever town he’s in?”

      “Probably. Gary said Scott knew how to run the commercial dishwasher. And he gets along well with most people. He can be very charming when he wants to be. Gary said everyone in the kitchen liked him.”

      “I’m glad you found him,” Luke said. Along with everything else that had happened, there was that one bit of good news for her. “At least you know he’s all right.”

      “But it feels like I’ve lost him all over again,” she said. “No one at the hotel knew where he was staying. Though he did use his real name. Tomorrow I’m going to start calling around to hotels and apartments, trying to find him.”

      “I hope you do,” he said. Not just for his investigation, but because he knew how much being reunited with her lost sibling would mean to her. He would have given almost anything to see Mark again.

      “What about the other guy?” he asked. “Did you find out anything about him?”

      “His name is Danny. He was a day laborer from a temp agency. He was brought in just for tonight. Gary couldn’t even remember his last name and didn’t know anything about him.”

      “Thanks. We’ll follow up on it.” Though he didn’t have high hopes that anyone at the temp agency would have more information. So far this guy had been very good at covering his tracks.

      He glanced toward the hotel, at the bright lights and rumbling growl of the generators powering the portable satellite dishes for the news vans. “I guess I’d better get back there.”

      “Luke.” Her hand on his arm drew his attention to her once more. The streetlight overhead cast a golden glow over her, glinting off her hair and shadowing her eyes against her pale skin. “I really don’t think Scott knew the man who shot at you. I mean, I don’t think they were friends or anything. He was just opening the door for him, not trying to help him escape.”

      He wrapped his hand around hers and held it to his chest. “I know you want to believe that, but you can’t know it. We have to check out the connection, though I hope we don’t find one.”

      “Will you tell me if you do?”

      This was hard. He didn’t like the thought of keeping anything from her. He knew how much any scrap of information about Mark would mean to him. But he had a job to do. And sometimes that job required making hard decisions. “I can’t tell you anything I find,” he said. “But I will tell you if we’re able to clear your brother.”

      “So in this case, no news is bad news.”

      She almost smiled, and the burden of guilt he felt at having to keep things from her lifted a little. He marveled at her ability to maintain a sense of humor under the circumstances. She was stronger than she looked. “You’ve had a rough night,” he said. “You should go back to your hotel and get some sleep.”

      “What about you?”

      “I’ve still got work to do.” He doubted he’d see his bed before morning.

      “The first stage of the race starts tomorrow morning, in Aspen,” she said. “I have to be up early to Skype into a press conference.”

      “They’re going through with it?”

      She nodded. “The UCI made the announcement about an hour ago. The vice president, Pierre Marceau, said it was what Monsieur Demetrie would have wanted.”

      “So if someone was trying to stop the race by poisoning President Demetrie, he didn’t succeed,” Luke said.

      “Are they sure it was poison?” she asked. “The kitchen was swarming with police after you left. They took leftovers from every dish as evidence. Gary was very upset.”

      “We’ll know by morning, anyway.”

      “Do you think this is even connected to the bombings?” she asked. “Poisoning seems so personal.”

      “That’s something we’ll have to find out.” They could very well be looking into two unrelated crimes. He stood, and pulled her up with him. He hated to leave the oasis of this little bench, away from the crowds and all the unanswered questions, but his duty had to come before his personal feelings. “Will you be all right walking to your hotel alone? I can find someone to go with you, but I can’t leave the investigation. I’ve stayed away too long as it is.”

      “I’ll be fine. You’ve done so much already. Thank you.”

      “You don’t have to thank me.” If anything, he’d made things worse for her, placing her brother at the center of an investigation into international terrorism.

      “Thank you for listening to me. For believing me—or at least pretending to. And for sharing as much information as you have with me.”

      “So you aren’t afraid of me anymore?” He continued to hold her hand, reluctant to let go.

      “No.” She put her hand on his chest, the warmth seeping through his shirtfront. “I’m glad we met, in spite of the strange circumstances.”

      “Yeah. I’m glad, too.” Maybe from the moment he’d first seen her in that video, he’d known he’d seek her out. Something in her called to him.

      She tilted her head up and rose on her toes to bring her face closer to his in silent invitation—an invitation he wouldn’t refuse. He’d been wanting to kiss her, hesitant only because of the tenuousness of their relationship. Her lips warmed beneath his, as soft and sensuous as he’d imagined they would be. He wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer and