Can't Keep a Brunette Down (21 page)

Mick sipped his coffee. "Are you trying to tell me you want to quit?"

"The thought has occurred to me."

"I'm sure it has, but I don't know what I'd do without you." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Look, I know it seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—"

"Sometimes? When Walter died, you left me to face the police. When Erik died, you sent me to get coffee, even though I had a concussion."

His face fell. "You make it sound worse than it was."

"Really? I thought I was sugarcoating things," she said, fighting hard not to scream. "I think you should leave now."

"We need to talk about this."

"No. I don't want to talk anymore." She stood, her hands shaking. "I have to call someone to repair my door. Please don't be here when I come back out."

Mick followed her into the kitchen and placed his hand on hers when she reached for the phone. "Give me a chance to explain."

"You've had the past week to explain and to help me deal with the chaos and figure out who the killer is," she said. "Instead, you've blown fifty grand gambling and got kicked out of your condo by some psycho you let move in, and now we're both being stalked by her father."

"I didn't
let
Chloe do anything. Are you done? I've got something I want to say."

She tried to pull her hand away, but he kept it trapped beneath his palm. "Then say what you want and get out of my house."

"First tell me what you meant by Gary stalking both of us?"

She stared at their hands. "He's been following you, and I keep crossing his path. You need to deal with him before he does something stupid."

"Like kill someone?"

"He's done that before."

Mick grinned. "Aw, are you worried about me?"

"No, I'm mad at you." Worry had taken a backseat to frustration after he knocked down her front door. "Now say what you want to say—then get out."

He took her by the upper arms and gazed into her eyes. His warmth spread up her arms and left her breathless. "Gilda, I love you."

"No!" She recoiled then kneed him in the groin.

That seemed to be the one reaction Mick wasn't prepared for. He gasped and collapsed to the floor in a heap. "Are you crazy? What was that for?"

"Get out." Her voice crackled, and she backed away, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I can't talk to you right now."

"We're not done with this." Mick used the counter to pull himself upright. "Once we figure out who killed Walter and Erik, all bets are off."

She shook her head. "For all I know, you killed them, and I'm next."

"And for all I know,
you
killed them both, and
I'm
next."

Checkmate. Once he'd left, Gilda let the tears fall in a torrent. How dare he play on her emotions like that? By the time the repairman showed up, she was emotionally drained. At the sight of both her door and her tears, he took out his phone to call the police, but she managed to convince him things were fine.

Able to finally focus, she made a list of the Four Possessions. Someone had tucked Honor in Walter's breast pocket at his funeral, and in the week since, she'd discovered he was far from honorable. As a school teacher, he'd had an affair with a much-younger student he eventually married, and then he apparently cheated on Jade regularly.

"Integrity. Erik, now dead and awaiting burial, definitely had none. Planning to start his own karate school behind his sensei's back was a definite no-no. Mick should have kicked him out long ago and probably would have if Erik hadn't turned up riddled with honed and poisoned ninja stars.

When she came to Loyalty, she paused.

She'd assumed the killer was after the four black belts beneath Mick, but what if Mick was right, and he was also a target? According to Mick, both Xavier and Chloe might have tried to poison him. Mick seemed to have loyalty issues not only with his girlfriend but with his students in general.

Xavier's loyalties were questionable. He was also the one who'd brought poisoned coffee to her and Mick.

Nauseous, Gilda pushed her pad of paper away when she realized her stomach was growling. The clock read one, and the air grew thick with humidity. The deli was only four blocks away. She could get there and back before the rain fell unless she stopped at the school. Since Mick was currently living there, the school was off-limits for today. With a sigh, she shoved the notepad into a drawer and locked the newly repaired front door behind her.

The streets were quiet save a loud crack of a bat and the roar of a crowd. Most people were either already at home, the beach, or the baseball diamond a couple blocks over. Gilda just wanted to get her food and go home. She ordered a thick ham and cheese sandwich with a side of sour pickles and a diet cola, then sauntered home and opened the front gate.

When she reached back to close it, a hand grabbed hers. She sucked in a sharp breath then spun around and stepped away, ready to use her self-defense techniques on Razi if he tried anything. The man was so large he probably wouldn't even notice if she hit him. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk, Miss Wright." Razi made her knees shudder. The one member of the school she knew little about and had talked to even less, until recently. He raised one eyebrow. "I would like a few moments of your time, if you please."

"Why?" she asked. "What's going on?"

He glanced around them. "I wish to discuss Walter and Erik. Could we step inside?"

"No." She pushed him outside the gate, feeling the need to put distance and solid objects between them. "We can talk right here."

"After all I have done for you lately, you still do not trust me?"

She bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Razi. For all I know, you're a mass murderer, and I'm next on your list."

"True enough. In my own defense, however, you could also be the killer. Perhaps we could we sit in a public place, and you can learn what I have to say while you eat your lunch."

Awkward English, but Gilda got the drift. "We can sit on the front porch."

He bowed then followed her up the steps and sat on the bench that usually served as her outdoor coffee table. "I am sorry you are afraid I might do something bad to you."

She set her food on the table and offered him a pickle. "I'm sorry too. None of us knows who to trust anymore. I'd never even seen a dead body before last Friday."

"I have. It is not an experience I wish to repeat."

Her breath stuck in her throat. "You have? When?"

"When I was a soldier in Israel." He met her gaze, his eyes dark. "I am trained to kill, Miss Wright. If I wanted, I could snap your neck like a twig, and people would think you simply fell asleep."

"Comforting thought. Thanks for the heads-up." She had a dozen questions but held them all inside.

"I have no reason to harm you. I want to help you. Walter knew about something in my past I would rather not have known. He tried to force me to give him money so he would not tell Sensei Mick."

"Walter blackmailed you?" she asked. "Just because you were a soldier?"

"He tried to blackmail me, but not because I was a soldier. Because of something I did that forced me to leave everything that was important to me behind." Razi gazed out at the street. "I did not play his game. I told Sensei Mick my story and have kept no secrets from him."

Gilda offered him a cup of tea. "I probably have some cookies in the freezer."

"Thank you, but I must go now." Razi stood and bowed again. "Would you like to know what I told Sensei Mick?"

"That depends." She wiped her palms on a napkin. "Did you kill Walter or Erik?"

"No, Miss Wright." He never even flinched. "I swear on my life I did not."

"Then I guess what you told Sensei Mick doesn't really matter, does it?"

"It does not. Thank you for listening."

Relief washed over Gilda, but her biggest question remained: If neither Mick nor Razi was the killer, who was?

She did yoga then curled up with a novel, hoping to take her mind off the insanity for a short time. In the back of her mind, she replayed the crime scenes and relived the fear of realizing she wasn't in the school alone. What had she missed?

Mick called late that afternoon. "Why aren't you at work? I need some things done, and when I got here, you were already gone."

She stared at her candle and fought to keep her breath even. "I was never there."

"Why? Because of this whole murder thing? When Walter died, you were always here. What changed?"

"You're a jerk." Gilda hung up. She stormed into the kitchen and tore apart an entire head of lettuce with her fingers before Mick phoned back. "What do you want?"

This time he hesitated. "I'm sorry. You're right. Yesterday was rough for all of us."

"I e-mailed everyone and told them not to come back to classes until after Erik's funeral." She sagged into a chair.

His tension was palpable even over the phone. Having no classes for the past week was already financial suicide for the karate school, especially under the circumstances. "That's a good idea. I'll check the messages and e-mails. Then we can get things back on track and—"

"How?" she asked, glad she was several blocks out of his reach. "In case you missed the newsflash, we've had two instructors murdered in the past week. Murdered, Mick. Not dropped dead from heart failure or an aneurysm. Somebody walked in and killed them."

"I get it, Gilda."

"I don't think you do." She chopped a tomato into her salad. "None of this is random. Someone is targeting the instructors at our school. Our staff. You or I could be next."

"Not you," he said softly.

She snorted. "Why not me? Don't you think I'm important enough to kill?"

"Oddly enough." Mick chuckled. "All I'm saying is, there seems to be a pattern. Remember that HILT thing? The Four Possessions?"

"How could I forget it? It's all I've thought about since Walter's funeral." Well, that and Mick kissing her in her kitchen. She attacked a miniature cucumber as though slaughtering a defenseless vegetable would make her feel better.

"Five black belts. Four kanji. Three black belts left, two kanji. The odds are not in my favor."

Her breath stuck in her chest. "Do you still think either Razi or Xavier is the killer?"

"Yeah? Well, it seems to me Gary has been nosing around an awful lot. With his background, it's hard to say what he'd do." After a prolonged silence, he sighed. "All I'm saying is to be careful who you talk to, Sherlock, and watch your back."

Gilda hung up and stared at the fragments of lettuce and other assorted vegetables on the counter. Her appetite gone, she put them away for later. She laced up her shoes and headed out for a run, in spite of the afternoon heat, too restless to sit and fret. Short of setting up surveillance cameras in the dojo, she had no idea how to catch the killer.

 

When a dark car slowed beside her, Gilda gulped. She should have run through the park where no one would see her. Gary leaned out of the window and smiled. "You're a popular lady. You seem to have a lot of gentlemen callers lately."

"What do you want?" She didn't change her pace but eyed the upcoming path to Ponderer's Point. The point was a dead end. Whatever Gary wanted with her, she'd have no way out to safety. On her side of the street, a dirt trail led to the riverside park.

"It's okay. I won't tell your mom," he said. "I just hope you're charging enough."

Outraged, Gilda stopped, and her jaw dropped. "Are you calling me a prostitute?"

"I'm joking. Get in. We need to talk."

"Absolutely not." She put her hands on her hips. "Unless you know who killed both Walter and Erik
and
have a mountain of evidence, I have nothing to say to you."

"You sound like your dad," Gary said, then pulled his car into the lot at Ponderer's Point. When he turned the engine off, Gilda's heart pounded. Did he know something, or was she the next target?

She could run in the opposite direction and disappear into the maze of trails that crisscrossed through Sandstone Cove. If she went home, she could barricade the doors and windows from the inside. Instead, she banished both thoughts and crossed the street, her curiosity more overwhelming than fear.

"You really are just like your dad, you know." Gary leaned against his car and waited for her. "More nosy than cautious. You even walk the same."

"I'm not here for a stroll down memory lane. What did you want to say?"

"What do you want to know?" He nodded toward the wooden boardwalk. "My legs are stiff. Walk with me."

"To where? The end of the point where there are no witnesses?" Gilda stood her ground. "You're not planning to kill me and dump me in the surf, are you?"

Gary gave a deep laugh. "Honey, you're young, fit, and know karate. If we got into a fight, you'd have the upper hand."

"Unless you have a gun."

He held his hands out at both sides. "You want to search me?"

"No thanks."

"That's probably for the best." Gary grinned. "From what I hear, a few people are already talking. No point giving them more to gossip about."

People like Thayer and Chloe. She blew out a breath. "Fine. Let's walk, and you can tell me what you know about Mick and the karate school."

"Deal." He steered her toward the wooden boardwalk and stuck his hands in his pockets. "How long have you known Mick?"

"I thought this was your story, not mine."

"You're the boss." Gary shrugged. "I've known Mick five years since he moved to town. Back when he first wanted to invest in Yoshida's school, his money was tied up in other investments."

"But he actually had the money?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. He was good for it." He paused. "Well, up until his wife left him anyway. He's not the kind of guy to blow a lot of cash on just anything."

"Except gambling on horse races." Gilda grumbled.

He smiled. "Actually, that wasn't his doing, but I love to make him sweat."

"What do you mean by that?"

"That, my dear, is a story for later." Gary jingled coins in his pocket. "Like I said, he came to me to borrow some money. Yoshida had set a deadline and wasn't cutting the kid any slack, so he came to me for a short-term loan."