"Do you mean Carl?" Sally asked. When Mike nodded, Sally laughed slightly. "He's the only male dancer in the state, Mike. Don't you dare do anything to scare him off."
The man in question looked away, glancing towards the dressing room where Halley had disappeared before he moved towards a smaller room, hopefully to change himself. Even as Mike watched, he was astounded by the heat in the tight-wearing man's eyes. Every instinct told Mike that Carl was the culprit. He was the man who had been breaking into Halley's house over the past several weeks. And now, he understood why. He was in love with Halley.
As the man turned, Mike saw the bun at the back of the man's head. Thinking back, he remembered the female figure running through the woods with the long, dark ponytail. He'd thought it had been Halley running. Mike's eyes narrowed on the slender man, his mind going through the details. Yeah, he fit the silhouette of the stranger running through the woods. He was the same height as Halley and even the same build. Where most men had at least slightly wider shoulders, that guy was the same width from his feet to his shoulders. So yeah, he definitely could have been the same man running through the woods.
Fingerprints. He needed to get the man's fingerprints.
Looking around, he spotted the stack of bottled water that had been set up on one of the tables along with plates of cookies and a big cake, obviously ready for an after-performance celebration.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," he said. Walking over to the stack of bottles, he grabbed two of them and headed towards the door where the man in question had disappeared. One of the bottles, he held by the lid. The other, he held normally in his hand, unconcerned about getting his fingerprints on that bottle.
The room he entered a moment later was just a small bathroom and Carl was in one of the stalls, changing clothes.
"Be out in a minute," he called.
Mike leaned a hip against the wall, taking a paper towel and wiping off his own prints from the lid of the water bottle, then held the water bottle by the top.
When Carl emerged from the stall, he stopped suddenly when he realized who was in the bathroom with him. "What do you want?" he grumbled, stuffing the rest of his clothes into his bag.
"Nothing," Mike lied. "Peace offering."
Carl looked at the bottle of water, then up at Mike, trying to figure out what was going on.
Mike chuckled slightly. "It isn't poisoned," he told the shorter man, with a bit of a mocking tone.
Carl's eyebrows drew down low over his pale grey eyes but he grabbed the bottle of water, trying to jerk it out of Mike's hand.
"She's too good for you," Carl said. "She'll come to her senses."
Mike's muscles tensed as the shorter man confirmed his suspicions. "You're in love with her?" he asked, wanting to hear the words.
Carl shrugged. "She's a beautiful woman. Who wouldn't care for her?" he tossed out, then opened the bottle of water and chugged.
Mike was silent while he waited for the man to drink the water. When Carl finished it, he offered the other bottle to him. "It was a great performance. I was impressed." Mike was impressed with Halley. He couldn't honestly say that he'd seen the man next to her. His eyes had been completely transfixed on Halley during the performance.
That mollified the man slightly. "Halley deserves all the credit." He shrugged. "I just hold her up while she does some of the more difficult poses."
That was certainly true. Mike thought about it for a moment and yeah, he could remember the man's hands on Halley's waist or holding her hand. They moved well together.
Not that he liked anyone touching Halley. Especially not a man who was breaking into Halley's house and scaring her, breaking things she loved.
Carl finished off the water, then tossed the empty bottle into the trashcan. "I have to go."
Mike moved out of the man's way, irritated that the idiot didn't even recycle. But he didn't say a word, just shifted so the other man could leave the bathroom, pretending that he was going to hit the john himself. When the door closed once again, Mike used another paper towel to carefully lift the discarded, empty bottle out of the trashcan, careful not to smudge any of the prints. Since the bottle was ridged in the center, it would be harder to get a full print, but he could match up partials and he'd wager a judge would grant him a search warrant. He'd bet money that the pervert had some of Halley's underwear in his residence.
And if the prints on this bottle matched any of the prints in Halley's house … the man was toast!