at the woman standing by her chair. She cleared her throat. “That’s me.” Casey had fallen asleep, and she shook her head to wake herself up.
“I’m Detective Binns. Okay if we go somewhere more private to talk?”
“Sure.” Casey glanced at Krystal, who had curled up on a couch, and was sleeping. Someone had covered her with a blanket. No one had bothered to cover Casey. She would choose to assume it was because Krystal was wearing shorts and had looked cold, while Casey had on warm-ups, and not that Krystal somehow inspired acts of chivalry while Casey was ignored.
Casey followed the detective to a small room off of the waiting room. Another officer followed, and shut the door behind them, but Casey barely registered him. She was still in a daze. Binns gestured to a chair, and Casey sat, trying to will herself awake. Binns pulled a chair in front of her. She was small and dark-haired, and she regarded Casey with compassion. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through tonight. It had to shake you up.”
Casey rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “It did. I’ll feel better once we know she makes it through the night.”
“Before I talk anymore, I’d like you to run me through the events of the past several hours, please. Officer Gomez will take notes.”
“Of course.” Casey took a look at the other officer now, and immediately wished she hadn’t.
Gomez was tall and dark, looking way more like Reuben than was good for anybody. He introduced himself with a distinct Spanish accent, which set Casey’s heart hammering. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to get her thoughts in order. He is not Reuben. He is not Reuben. When she’d recovered at least a little, she opened her eyes and focused on the detective, telling her about the extra self-defense class, how she couldn’t sleep afterward, and how she’d decided to head down to the aerobics room. She got a little shaky as she talked about the sound she’d heard, and about finding Andrea and seeing the bloody hand weight, and calling security.
“Why didn’t you call 911?”
“I did, but the phone must be set up to go directly to the on-site guards.”
“Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.”
Binns sat back, studying Casey. “You’re new in town.”
“Just came yesterday, for the job. I got officially hired today.”
“You didn’t know anyone here in Raceda previously?”
“No. I found the job on monster.com.”
Binns gazed at her some more. Casey knew she looked uncomfortable, but she figured most people would be uncomfortable in that situation.
“I want you to know right off,” Binns said, “that we’re not considering you a suspect in the attack.”
“No. She roused just enough to say a few words to the paramedics when they arrived at the scene. She said your name, and that you had saved her.”
“Did she name the person who attacked her?”
“No. Those few words about you were all she managed before she blacked out. So you’re in the clear.”
“But I could’ve hurt her and then called—”
Binns held up her hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time an attacker contacted law enforcement, so if it weren’t for back-up evidence, I would probably discount her statement.”
“What evidence?”
“The security camera mounted in the service stairway caught you going up to the second floor at twelve fifty-four. Where had you been?”
“Bar. Talking to Jack, the bartender, not drinking. You can ask him.”
“Oh, we will. Anyway, the camera on the fitness floor got you going into the aerobics room, and looking out several minutes later. Your clothes are not bloody in either of those films. Furthermore—”
“It wouldn’t have taken long for me to go into the locker room after you saw me on the tape, beat up Andrea, and call the cops.”
Binns’ eyebrows went up. “Are you trying to put yourself back on the suspect list?”
“No, I’m just…looking at all the angles.”
“We are, too, Ms. Gray. Believe me.” She looked down at her notes, holding them at arm’s length and squinting. “Furthermore, there was another key used to get into the training room before you were even on the floor.”
“Another…from which direction?”
“The men’s locker room.”
Casey considered this. “Do you know whose card it was?”
“The access number belonged to Maria Mendez.”
“The receptionist?”
“Administrative assistant. Who is, at this moment, in her home. We had a unit go directly there, and she was tucked up in bed, asleep. Her car was cold, and