“Do they have a name yet?” Carlotta asked.
“No,” Jack said. “The hotel says he wasn’t employed here, which we already suspected. He told you he was renting the house next to yours, so I have someone looking into the owners. For now all we have to go on is the name he gave to you and Wes—Johnson.”
“Have they run his prints?” Coop asked.
“There’s a wrinkle,” Jack said.
“He had no fingerprints,” Carlotta supplied. “They were as smooth as a baby’s bottom.”
The simile had just slipped out, but Jack gave her a sardonic look. “You checked his fingers?”
“Yes.”
“Do I want to know what else you checked?”
“There was no blood, and no tears or holes in his clothes that would indicate a wound.”
Jack sighed. “Anything else?”
“He had a small tattoo at his waistline. I noticed it the day Wes and I met him.”
“Oh?” Coop asked with a sly smile.
“His shirt was open,” she said pointedly. “It looks military to me.” She pulled out her phone, found an image, then showed the screen to Jack and Coop.
Jack sputtered. “You took pictures of the body?”
“Of course. And the crime scene. Do you want them?”
His mouth tightened. “How many did you take?”
She consulted her phone. “One hundred sixty-three. I can put them in your Dropbox.”
Jack slow blinked. “Come again?”
“Send them to me,” Coop said. “I’ll make sure Jack gets them.”
“Do you want the videos, too?”
“Videos?” Jack parroted.
“I shot a video before the police arrived, and another one of them investigating the scene. The last one is a rather large file, let’s see—almost ninety minutes long.”
Jack’s face turned purplish. “The local police let you shoot a video of them while they were working?”
“Of course not.” She pointed. “I set my camera on that shelf behind my shoes. They didn’t even know it was on.”
Coop snorted with laughter.
Jack cut his eyes toward Coop. “Don’t encourage her.”
Carlotta scowled. “You just said the police’s documentation was lame. Do you want my files or not?”
Jack jerked his head in concession, then said, “C’mon, Coop. Let’s head to the morgue.”
“Can I go?” Carlotta asked.
“No,” they both said in unison.
She frowned. “You don’t have to be rude.”
Jack pulled his hand down his face. “Coop, do me a favor and ask the hotel security guy if we can take a look at the footage of their surveillance cameras?”
“Sure, Jack,” Coop said, then walked away, out of earshot.
Jack surveyed her with unreadable bloodshot eyes until she squirmed.
“Do you want to yell at me again?” she asked.
“No,” he said, sounding exhausted. “I want you to tell me why this guy would follow you to Vegas.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Why do you think he followed you?”
“You overheard him say he wanted to take me out.”
“As irresistible as you are, Carlotta, I can’t see the guy trailing you and your fiancé out here to try to change your mind.”
“Was that a compliment?”
“Don’t go off point. The way I see it, this guy followed you because he thought you could lead him to something he wanted, something to do with Randolph.”
She put on her best clueless face. “I don’t know what that could be. Randolph won’t even agree to let me or Wes visit him. Why would this guy think I knew something?”
“Maybe he thought it was suspicious you would just up and go to Vegas?”
“Then he didn’t do his homework. Peter won this trip at a charity auction a while ago. We were headed to Vegas the day I stopped by the townhouse and Abramson attacked me. We had to postpone then, so here we are.”
“So there’s no special reason for this trip?”
“My and Peter’s engagement isn’t special enough?”
He studied her face for long seconds, then nodded. “If you say so. But I’m not asking just for your sake—I have explicit orders from my captain to stay away from your father’s case. I’m not kidding, Carlotta. My job is on the line.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you being unemployed,” she said lightly, “seeing as how you’re going to have a new mouth to feed.”
Jack looked away, then back. “C’mon, we’ll walk you back to your room.”
They were a quiet trio as they made their way back to the upgraded suite. Carlotta mulled Jack’s probing questions about Dead Johnson—if he was following her in the hopes she’d lead him to Randolph’s hiding place and to Valerie, who would’ve hired him? Someone from the D.A.’s office? Mashburn & Tully? One of Randolph’s victims?