by Diane Bator
CHAPTER SIX
As Doc sauntered over the rocks, leaving the scent of tobacco in his wake, Gilda made a snap decision to visit Walter's widow, Jade Levy. Anything to keep from being alone and having Gary approach her again. After a stop at the corner store to grab a bouquet of bright Gerbera daisies, she walked across town to Darlington Court, the newest subdivision. She'd order a fancier bouquet from the karate school later.
While she had seen Walter every day and had known him fairly well, Gilda sensed Jade seemed to avoid her as much as possible. If nothing else, Walter had left his wife comfortable in a large, new house, complete with a swimming pool, three-car garage, and luxury cars to fill each slot.
Gilda, in her shorts and snug yoga top, felt sorely underdressed to even stand on the front step. She hesitated, taking three deep breaths before she rang the doorbell. Rather than a normal dingdong, the chimes had an airy, Zen-like tone far less jarring than other doorbells.
Jade, drawn and pale, appeared wearing a pink silk kimono. Her delicate features tensed, and she gave a slight bow. "Miss Wright. What can I do for you?"
"I'm sorry for your loss." Gilda handed her the bouquet, gaudy next to Jade's elegance. "Walter was a good teacher and friend."
Her lips drew into a small, tight bow, making her look even more like a geisha. "That is very sweet. Walter thought very highly of you. He always said you were the one person he could count on at the school. Please come in."
"He did?" Gilda followed Jade across the bamboo floor into a sunroom decorated with treasures probably brought back from many trips to Japan. While Walter wasn't actually Japanese, he'd fully embraced his wife's culture. The low black lacquer table was already set with tea for two. Was she expecting company, or had someone just left? "You have a lovely home."
Jade followed her gaze to the teacups, and her cheeks turned pink. "I have so many visitors these days I keep the table set. Excuse me. I will prepare fresh water."
She took away the teapot, flowers, and both cups and shuffled down the hallway. Beneath her kimono, she wore tabi socks and woven grass sandals, or zoris. Walter had brought Gilda a pair, but she ended up using them for decoration.
Gilda didn't believe Jade's explanation about the teacups. If someone else was here, why hadn't the person remained in the sunroom? She wandered around the room and admired the carvings and paintings amid the lush plants. Walter had a penchant for growing the most delicate plants. His orchids thrived where others died. She hoped Jade had the same green thumb to keep them flourishing.
"Sorry." Jade's clogs tapped the floor. "I have jasmine tea. Walter's personal blend from his garden. He drank some every evening."
"That would be great, thanks. I shouldn't impose. You probably have a million things to do." Gilda sat across from her hostess, who poured two thimble-sized cups of tea from a hand-painted pot.
She wore a stiff smile. "Walter's firstborn son, Donald, has taken charge of the funeral and assures me I have nothing to worry about."
"Oh, that's right." Gilda sipped her tea, sweeter than normal jasmine. The tea flowed more easily than their conversation. "I forgot he has older children. Did he have two or three from his first marriage?"
Jade's face tightened further. Taboo topic. "He had three children. Two boys and a girl."
Gilda winced. "It's nice they came to help. You must get along well with them."
"Wonderfully." The word strained through Jade's white teeth. She drank her tea in one gulp then poured a second cup.
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be nosy." Gilda finished her thimbleful of tea and set her cup down. "I only came to see if there was anything I could do."
Jade regained her composure and struggled with a small smile. "I hear you have been most helpful with the police and Walter's students. I appreciate you taking the time to come by to check on me. You and Sensei Mick have been good to us."
"I should go then. If you need anything—"
She gave a slight bow. "I will call."
Right after donkeys held public office. Gilda grimaced. She'd made a mess of the entire visit. Her stomach churned. Jade was the most passive widow she'd ever met. Either the stoicism of her culture had been deeply ingrained in her, or Gilda was looking into the dark eyes of a murderer. She shuddered to even consider the possibility.
"I really am sorry about Walter."
"Thank you." When Jade stood, her kimono didn't hold so much as a crinkle but fell smooth and perfect, like someone ironed it the instant she stood. They walked toward the teak front door, footsteps echoing on the bamboo flooring. As Gilda reached for the doorknob, a door slammed upstairs, and she jumped away from the front door.
Jade's eyes widened. Then she gave a small laugh. "The wind. It slams the guestroom door. Walter always laughed at me when I would jump."
"Oh. I thought it might have been one of Walter's kids."
Her face darkened to the color of a crimson rose. "They choose to stay in a hotel when they visit so we do not get in each other's way."
Gilda nodded and glanced up the staircase to the open hallway when a closed door opened slowly. Someone moved inside then the door shut, quieter this time. A second person was in the house. A faceless man who wore a yellow robe.
Whatever Jade Levy was up to, she was far from alone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The plants in her backyard garden welcomed home both Gilda and her whirling mind. They seemed to smile when she watered them, making an intense sadness wash over her. If Jade had a lover, he could have become jealous and killed Walter. Or did Walter discover her promiscuity, so Jade paid someone to kill him?
Gilda's stomach lurched. She'd seen movies about people who hired hit men to do away with troublesome spouses. While she didn't know anyone in Sandstone Cove capable of such a thing, she imagined someone could. For the right price.
She shivered. Actually, she did know someone. The same man who had business to discuss with Mick—Gary del Garda.
She struggled to remember what Walter had told her about his family. Jade was from New York City, the daughter of Japanese immigrants who ran the restaurant where she and Walter supposedly met. He'd forgotten to mention she was a high school senior and he a married father of three. If Jade's parents still held a grudge, they could hire a hit man…
Gilda blew off that thought. Walter and Jade had been married fifteen years. If Jade's family wanted him dead, he wouldn't have lasted so long. She focused on watering the plants and let each tiny drop of water mesmerize her and take her worries into the ground.
"Gilda? Are you here?" Mick called from around the house.
Her worries practically climbed back up her legs to cower behind her knees. "In the backyard."
"I rang the doorbell. I guess you didn't hear it." He fumbled with the latch on the gate, swearing once. "Why do you have a Chinese puzzle lock on your gate?"
"Just lift the latch." She turned off the water. "What's up?"
"What makes you think something's up? Can't I just come by to visit?" He sat on the steps and sighed. "You have a really nice yard."
"Thanks. What do you want?" she asked. "You've never come over to my house before."
"Nothing. I've been locked in Thayer's interrogation room again for the past two hours. I needed a friendly face and some fresh air. That place reeks worse than the school. I wonder if they've ever heard of air fresheners. We should send over a case."
She sat on the stone bench near the lavender. "Not that I mind the company, but why didn't you go see Chloe?"
"She's at work." He hesitated. "She doesn't like me stopping by when she's busy."
Gilda raised her eyebrows. Chloe was a customer service representative at the bank. "What did Thayer want now?"
"Hair, skin cells, blood. Everything but my firstborn." Mick basked in the sunshine. "He used the old standby about trying to eliminate people, but when he asked for a semen sample, I wondered what was really going on."
"Semen?" Gilda asked, mouth and eyes wide.
"That's pretty much what I did. I guess it has something to do with the torn-down changing room curtains, which I do not want back now, by the way."
"Eww!" She scrunched up her face.
Mick laughed. "I think I had that look too."
"Does he want to talk to me?"
"No, just the black belts. Personally, I think he has it out for all of us except you."
"Funny," she said. "I thought I'd be the biggest target on his hit list."
"Nah, he has a soft spot for you. He doesn't think you're capable of anything like this. Face it, Sherlock. You're just too nice."
"I am not." She folded her arms and sat back. With nothing to stop her, she toppled into the huge pink peony behind her.
Mick flew across the grass and caught her before she could land in the dirt. He pulled her upright until their faces were scant inches apart. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks for grabbing me." A surge of heat swept through her. "I mean, for not letting me fall." That didn't sound any better.
"My pleasure." He sat beside her, one hand around her waist. "You got new nail polish. I've never seen your toenails pale green before. They look like mint chocolate chip ice cream. My favorite."
"Thanks."
"Actually, ice cream sounds good." As he moved an inch closer, his grip tightened on her waist. "I might stop for some on my way home."
"It does sound good." So did a cold shower.
He cleared his throat and suddenly became all business again, moving his hands to grip the bench on either side of his legs. "You called everyone to cancel classes tonight, right?"
She focused on a multilayered red poppy. The heat off his hand seemed to sear her thigh. "There are no classes tonight. It's Saturday."
"Is the funeral Tuesday or Wednesday?"
"Yoshida's workshop is Tuesday. The funeral is Wednesday. Back to normal Thursday." Spots swam before her eyes. What on earth was wrong with her? Mick had never made her so rattled before.
"Good." He hesitated. "Are you okay? I mean, after Walter's death and all that."
"I think so," she said. "I went to see Jade earlier."
"You have been busy today." He smiled. "How's she doing?"
"She doesn't seem very shaken up."
Mick shrugged. "I guess we all grieve in our own ways."
"True." She thought about the man in the yellow robe. Jade certainly had an interesting method of mourning the loss of her husband. "You didn't stop by to see her today, did you?"
"Nope. After our run, I had breakfast with—" He clamped his mouth shut. "I should go. I'm sure you have a lot to do."
"Yeah, I'm sure I do." Left out of the loop again. What was going on? "I've heard rumors about a couple of the instructors wanting to open their own schools and—"
He flinched then draped his arm across her shoulders and rested his head against hers. "I hate rumors. They usually get people into trouble that was never there to begin with. If you need anything, just call me. Don't worry about the school until after the funeral."
"What about Yoshida's workshop?"
Mick rubbed his eyes. "Except for that. Can you…"
"I'll make sure everyone knows about the workshop, the funeral, and when classes will resume," she said. "I'll even make sure everything is clean and ready. You need to replace the mats first though."
"Consider it taken care of." He gave her shoulders a squeeze then kissed her cheek. His lips lingered near her ear long enough that her entire body tingled. "What would I do without your nagging, Sherlock?"
Once he left, she forgot about gardening and splashed her face and armpits with cold water from the hose. When a surge of nervous energy tore through her, she returned to the yard. He never did answer her question about the black belts wanting to open new schools.
Later that afternoon, she wandered to the karate school to check for messages and send e-mails. She could have called to check the phone messages but was too restless and wanted to make sure nothing else had happened.
The lights inside were on, but the door was locked. Mick must have come in again and forgot to turn the lights off when he left. She prayed there were no more bodies. This time she would probably scream, run for home, and never look back.
Razi was inside the dojo scrubbing new tatami mats with his back to her. The water bucket stood on the laminate floor of the lobby. Sweat soaked his short, black hair and army-green shirt. Rumor around the school was he'd been an Israeli soldier trained in Krav Maga and had done things that would have given Gilda nightmares.
She wished she'd told Marion where she was going. If the school reopened in two days, and they found her dead inside, it would take a lot more than cleaners to get the stench out. She set her handbag down and scribbled a note to grab air fresheners and disinfectant spray later.
"Miss Wright. What are you doing here?" Razi asked.
She jumped, shrieked, and dropped her keys to the laminate floor with a clatter, then struggled for a calming breath. "I work here. What are you doing here?"
He leaned the mop against the wall. "Sensei Mick asked me to replace the mats. They all needed to be disinfected. The police took far more mats than I thought they would."
Gilda swallowed hard. "How do you know the police took them?"
"Biohazardous materials." Razi studied her. Then his mouth twisted and one eyebrow cocked. "Was this a test?"
"I guess so. Sorry."
A genuine, honest-to-goodness smile she'd never seen before curved his lips. "You watch far too much television, Miss Wright."
"Probably. Where did you get the mats so fast?"
"They are from my basement. Sensei Mick helped me set up a dojo in my basement so I could do my training. I offered my mats to the school until he can get new ones."
"That was really nice. Thank you." She bowed her head. "Did you know Walter well?"
"Walter was a simple man with a complicated life," he said. "Some things he did made me laugh. Some things made me sad. Some things made me wonder if his head was up his posterior."
"What things?" She'd never heard Razi talk so much.
"I do not gossip, Miss Wright." Hence, the reason he probably rarely spoke.
"So, who should I talk to?"
Razi shrugged his broad shoulders and lifted the bucket. "Anyone who will talk to you. I suggest you start with Sensei Mick and work down the list."
"You do? Why Sensei Mick?"
He walked away, silent except for the slosh of the water in the bucket.
"Razi?" She followed him down the hall to the utility room and waited while he emptied the bucket into the large sink and rinsed the mop. Mick was the head honcho. Everyone knew that, so he had to know more than everyone else. He probably knew all about Walter and the potential karate school.
"Did Walter ever talk to you about starting his own karate school?"
"Once again, that is gossip."
"Not if I ask you to tell me." She crossed her fingers and hoped he believed her. "Relaying information when someone really needs to know isn't gossip. Running around town telling everyone what you know out of spite is gossip."
"That is an interesting interpretation." Razi put the bucket and mop away then cleaned the sink. "And of what use is this information to you?"
Gilda hesitated. "I think his death had something to do with him wanting to leave Yoshida's and open a new school."
"I see." He rinsed away the cleaner from the sink then wiped it dry. If he'd murdered Walter, there wouldn't have been a speck of blood anywhere by the time she and the police got there. Razi was too meticulous. "Do you think it's dangerous for you to look for his killer?"
"Yes. Probably."
He walked toward her then lay a damp hand on her shoulder. "Be careful, Miss Wright. Even the most harmless kitten can be a danger."
She didn't move until the front door had closed and silence settled over the school. Only then did she settle behind her desk. She hoped Gary wasn't watching and didn't know she was alone. H
e made her nervous.
Xavier and Razi had never spoken to her as much as they had in the past twenty-four hours. It struck her as odd for both of them, especially Razi, who'd rarely spoken to her at all.
Mick seemed to gravitate close to her then pull away. Was he trying to distract her and, if so, from what?
Gilda took care of the small pile of paperwork then ordered flowers for the Levy family. Once her work was done, she snooped. The call that came in the day before while she and Mick talked in the lobby was in caller ID. Mick's home number. The call came from his condo. Her stomach lurched. Had Chloe moved in with him between fights?
Chloe del Garda had signed up for karate a year earlier, and even though Mick noticed her, as far as Gilda knew, he hadn't acted on the attraction publicly until six months ago. Far too soon to cohabitate, in her opinion, but Mick obviously didn't share her view. Of course, while she didn't see eye to eye with him on a lot of things, she respected him enough not to make the small things into larger issues.
What happened that Mick would ban his girlfriend from the school? Sure, they argued a lot, but he'd never banned anyone before. Whatever happened between them this time must be serious. She headed for his office to see what sort of secrets lurked there. Halfway to his door, she paused.
The ring. She hadn't thought to ask anyone but Xavier about it. If the ring wasn't made locally, she'd have a hard time finding information. If it was something ordered online, she might be able to track it down and give Thayer a hand. At least that was her official reasoning. Unofficially, she still had no idea to whom the ring belonged, and Fabio wasn't likely to keep her in the loop.
She turned away from Mick's office and sat at her computer to begin her search. An hour later, all she had was a throbbing headache. No leads. No photos.
Gilda clicked her pen in frustration until something pulled her focus away from the website. She glanced up from the monitor and frowned. A sound. A movement. Probably something small and light, like a rat. She hated rats as much as Mick hated cats.