"Can I get copies of all the footage between 6:35 and when Lisa left?"she asked."The full recordings from every camera.And that image you just took for me."She gave him her phone number, and she was impressed when the still image came through just ten seconds later.
"Give me a few minutes and I’ll send you that footage," Reeves said.
While Reeves worked on copying the files, Kim pulled out her phone and pulled the still frame up.Then she forwarded it to Miles and Vic with a brief message explaining what she had found:Partial view of suspect tampering with Lisa Anderson's water bottle at climbing gym.Male, 20s-30s, pale complexion.Full footage being copied now.
She stared at the partial profile on her phone screen.The killer had been careful, had stayed at the edges of the camera coverage and kept his face hidden as much as possible.But he had made one small mistake.He had turned his head just slightly too far while checking to see if anyone was watching.Kim hoped that one moment might be enough to identify him if they could match the partial profile to someone in their facial recognition database.
Reeves gave his hands a single clap and said, "All done.You'll get a link via text to my Dropbox.You can check the footage there."
"Thank you for your help.This could be huge.”
“I hope it is.And if you see Lisa again, please be sure to give her my best.”
"I will.Thanks again.”
Kim left the gym and walked back outside.She looked to the lot and sighed.“Shit,” she said.She’d been so wrapped up in speaking to Reeves and looking at security footage that she’d forgotten to ask the Uber driver to wait.She pulled the app back up and ordered another.
As she waited for her ride, she looked at the partial image of the killer on her phone.It wasn’t much.Just the left side of a face, partially obscured by the hoodie.But it was more than they had before.It was proof that the killer had targeted Lisa specifically, had followed her to the gym and waited for an opportunity to drug her.
Kim wished she had more to work with—that the cameras had captured a clear frontal view or that the killer had been careless enough to show his face fully.But wishes did not solve cases.Evidence did.And they had evidence now, however limited.She just hoped it would be enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Vivian Bennett adjusted her grip on the trapeze bar and swung forward, feeling the familiar rush of air against her face as her body arced through space.The training facility was empty except for her, which was exactly how she liked it for late-night practice sessions.No crowds, no other performers waiting for equipment, just the quiet creak of rigging and the satisfying burn in her shoulders as she worked through her routine.She had been with Cirque du Soleil for six years now, performing in three different shows across two continents.The trapeze had become an extension of her body, something she understood instinctively after thousands of hours in the air.Tonight she was working on a new release move, something that required perfect timing and absolute trust in her own muscle memory.
Vivian released the bar at the apex of her swing and rotated through the air.Her hands found the second bar exactly where it should be and she caught it smoothly, absorbing the momentum with her core.She swung twice more before dismounting onto the safety platform.
That was when she noticed someone in the observation area.
The facility had a small section of bleachers where coaches and choreographers could watch rehearsals.During normal hours, it was usually occupied, but at ten-thirty at night, it should have been empty.Vivian grabbed her water bottle and took a drink, studying the figure sitting about halfway up the bleachers.
The figure was male…she could tell that much from the silhouette.He was watching her with what seemed like focused attention, not the casual curiosity of someone who had wandered in by accident.
Vivian climbed down from the platform and walked across the padded floor toward the observation area.She had worked in performance long enough to know that people sometimes showed up in strange places claiming to be scouts or producers.Most of them were harmless, just fans who wanted to meet performers—not that she was famous or anything.Sometimes, people just appreciated the art of what she did.Admittedly, though, a few were creepy.She had learned to trust her instincts about which category someone fell into.
The man stood up as she approached.He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, with sandy brown hair and an athletic build.He wore dark jeans and a button-down shirt, casual but neat.Nothing about his appearance immediately set off alarm bells.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your practice," he said as Vivian reached the edge of the bleachers."I've been watching you work for about twenty minutes, and it’s…I mean,wow.Your technique is really impressive."
"Thanks."Vivian kept her tone neutral."But, you know…the facility is supposed to be closed to visitors after ten."
"I know.I apologize for that.I'm actually here on business."He pulled out a business card and handed it down to her."My name is David Marquez.I'm a talent scout for an independent production company that's developing a new aerial performance show.We're looking for lead performers and your name came up in our research."
Vivian took the card and glanced at it.The design was professional, with a company logo and contact information.It looked legitimate, though she knew business cards could be printed by anyone with a computer and ten dollars.
"How did you know I'd be here tonight?"
"I didn't, actually.I've been stopping by the facility the past few evenings hoping to catch you during practice hours.Tonight was lucky timing."He gestured to the trapeze rigging behind her."I saw your performance in the show last year in Vegas.You were incredible.The triple release sequence you did in the finale was one of the best I've ever seen."
Vivian felt herself relax slightly.He was talking about specific details from her performance, things that a random fan would not necessarily remember.The triple release was one of her signature moves, something she had spent months perfecting.
"What kind of show are you developing?"
"It's a fusion concept.Traditional circus arts combined with contemporary theater and narrative storytelling.We're planning a limited run in New York next fall, possibly expanding if it does well."He moved down a few rows of bleachers so he was closer to her level."The creative team is really interested in performers who can bring both technical skill and dramatic presence.Your background fits perfectly."
He asked her about her training, about how she had gotten into aerial performance, about her comfort level with different types of rigging and equipment.The questions were detailed and knowledgeable, the kind that someone with real industry experience would ask.He knew the terminology and seemed to understand the technical aspects of what she did.
But something felt wrong.Vivian could not put her finger on it exactly.His questions were appropriate, his manner was professional, and he genuinely seemed to understand aerial performance.Yet there was something in the way he watched her as she answered, an intensity that went beyond normal professional interest.