by Diane Bator
He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “You know you don’t have to be like this. We could work together amicably. Maybe even be friends again.”
“After what you did?” She started to walk away. “After two years of me pushing you away, you still don’t get it, do you?”
Behind them, a metal garbage can clattered to the ground, making Gilda shriek and jump.
Thayer drew his weapon and crouched to one knee seconds before a calico cat raced away down the alley. “Where did that thing come from?”
Gilda shone her flashlight toward the consignment store. A weathered, silvery wood staircase led to the apartment above the store. From there, anyone could climb over the railing and onto the karate school roof. Anyone unafraid of heights, that was, which let her out.
“The grandson’s cat,” Thayer said. “That’s a steep jump even for a cat. What’s up there?”
“The roof.” Her eyes widened. And the air conditioner and vent for the building.
Thayer started up the stairs then seemed to reconsider when the light in the small apartment over the boutique turned on. “Is there another entrance to the school up there?”
“As far as I know, it’s just the air conditioner.” She gazed up the stairs, across to the roof and down to the cracked asphalt in the alley and wished he’d go away so she could find out.
Someone agile could run out the back door, climb the stairs, and run across the rooftops to the grocery store at the end of the block. With all the tourists armed with beach toys, shopping bags and souvenirs, they could disappear into the crowd. A barefoot ninja. She shuddered.
“Gilda?” Thayer waved a hand in front of her face. “Did you have an idea or a stroke?”
She pushed past him. “Neither. I’m tired and I’m going home.”
“I don’t think so, honey.” He reached for his handcuffs, but he was wearing civilian clothes. “If you know something, you need to tell me or I’ll lock you up.”
Her mouth dropped open. “For what?”
Thayer put his hands on his hips. “Mostly your protection, but also for impeding an investigation.”
“I showed you the post and the dents in the door, didn’t I?”
“I guess,” he said. “Go home, stay out of trouble, and don’t leave town.”
She didn’t make any promises. Two out of three wasn’t so bad. Was it?
Chapter 11
Gilda jammed her hands beneath her armpits to keep them from shaking. Doc’s request for her to meet him at the morgue that morning puzzled her, especially since Thayer and Fabio already sat on two plastic chairs outside his office.
Fabio looked up from his magazine. “Nice to see you again, Gilda. I take it Doc called you.”
She fought the urge to run outside and hyperventilate. “Yeah. He called and said he wanted to see me about something.”
Thayer, head still bowed and frown in place, glanced up, definitely not happy to see her.
“Us too.” Fabio stretched his short legs and scratched at the growth of stubble on his chin, which was about the same length as Mick’s. She guessed he hadn’t shaved since Walter’s murder either. “We’ve been waiting here for the last hour.”
“Really? That’s odd. He just called me ten minutes ago.” She tapped his office door.
Thayer jolted upright. “Are you serious? He made us sit out here and wait for almost an hour, yet he just called you?”
“Yes, I did.” Doc appeared in the doorway. “Do you want to debate my motives or do you want to know why you’re all here?”
Thayer barged into the room ahead of the others.
Fabio hung back and shrugged before he followed his partner.
“We need to have a chat.” Doc grabbed Gilda’s arm and lowered his voice. “Thayer gave me the coffee you thought was poisoned.”
“You didn’t drink it, did you?” Her eyes widened.
“No, but from the look on his face, I’m sure he’d want me to right now,” Doc said. “You were right. There was a trace of cyanide. Not enough to kill you. Just enough to give you stomach cramps.”
“Which is exactly why I saw you Friday. I’ve had cramps for the past while.” She glanced back into his office where Thayer sat with his arms folded across his chest Fabio toyed with Doc’s Newton’s cradle. “You don’t think the two are related, do you? Maybe Xavier wanted me out of the way.”
“It’s possible.” Doc nudged his glasses up his nose.
“But why?” she asked. “Do you think he killed Walter or does he think I did?”
“Sorry. I can’t help you with Xavier’s motives.” Doc’s reply was punctuated by a curse from Thayer before the metal balls on the Newton’s cradle went silent. “But I do think I can help you with them. Shall we?”
She skirted around Thayer and Fabio to sit across the heavy pine desk from Doc. All the questions that went through her head when she took her run earlier were lost to nerves.
“You all want to know about Walter’s autopsy,” Doc said. “I’m aware this is privileged information, and my duty is to both the police and the victim’s family.”
Thayer shot Gilda a nasty glare. “Then maybe someone who is neither of those should leave the room.”
Doc cleared his throat. “Gilda has a vested interest in this case and I’d like her to stay.”
“I do?” she asked. “I just hoped you’d say it was a crime of passion or a fight gone bad. I don’t want to think someone actually set out to murder Walter. If you tell me it was an accident or self-defence, I’ll back off.”
Doc sat back and toyed with his pen while he gazed out the window. “I wish I could say something to ease your concerns. From everything I saw during the autopsy, the katana attack came after the fist fight.”
“A fist fight? Like a brawl or are we talking karate moves like they do in the school?” Thayer asked. “Is that why he was so bruised?”
Doc looked amused. “From the bruising, I can tell they were precise, well-placed strikes. A black belt could be that exact.”
Gilda shifted in her seat. His words did little to ease her fears. “Would the blows have been enough to knock him out?”
“If you’re asking if he took any direct hits to the head, the answer is no,” Doc said. “At least nothing that left a mark or could have incapacitated him.”
She closed her eyes. “Then someone must have poisoned him.”
Thayer twitched. “Did you check for poisons?”
“I checked him for known poisons and found nothing,” Doc said. “But then I—”
“Then maybe the killer was just stronger and faster,” Fabio said. “There are a lot of different pressure points martial artists learn to aim for.”
“Which is exactly why Gilda is here.” Doc turned to her.
She hesitated. “I don’t really know all the pressure points. I’m still learning all that. I do know the only people stronger and faster than Walter in our school are a couple of the other black belts.”
“Who?” Thayer asked.
“Mick or Razi in particular. Both of them have extensive martial arts backgrounds. Xavier doesn’t have the power, but he’s big on poisons. Erik might be able to do some serious damage if he was mad enough.” She scowled, unable to stop talking. “I really can’t see any of them killing him, but must be someone familiar with the school and Walter’s schedule.”
“Like anyone who either attends or has kids at the Yoshida school,” Thayer said.
Fabio whistled. “That’s a lot of suspects.”
“What if you exclude kids and people who couldn’t physically carry out the crime?” Doc asked. “Or someone who didn’t have access to—”
Thayer leaned forward. “Then we’re back to our four main suspects.”
“Unless the killer had some help,” Doc said.
“Yeah, help from someone who either lured Walter to the back room or let in the killer in the back door.” Thayer’s gaze met Gilda’s when she frowned. “What’s wrong with you?
”
She folded her arms across her chest. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Fabio raised one eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“She’s known me for forever and she’s right. Walter was poisoned, but with something we don’t normally test for.” Doc hesitated. “Cobra venom.”
Gilda’s heart raced. Cobra venom was far more exotic than she expected and not something she knew much about. She was willing to bet Xavier did.
“Cobra venom? That seems like a long shot, doesn’t it?” Thayer asked. “I didn’t think you’d have the capabilities to test for something so exotic.”
“Normally, no, but I called in a favor.” Doc flipped a pen across the backs of his fingers. “I never would’ve tested for it except I was acting on a tip.”
Fabio shifted in his seat. “A tip? You mean a phone call or something someone said?”
“Someone pointed out Razi had recently been overseas to visit family, Mick was in the Dominican last week and Walter’s wife went to Asia not very long ago,” Doc said. “I wasn’t convinced at first, but when I did some online research, I learned a couple curious things.”
“Like what?” Thayer asked.
Doc’s eyes shone. “Cobra venom is a neurotoxin, which means it paralyzes the nerve centers that control breathing and heart rates. Walter would’ve become slow and drunk, which made him vulnerable to attack from anyone. Even someone Gilda’s size. You gentlemen have work to do.”
Direct and dismissive. Both men took the hint and left. When Thayer paused in the doorway and opened his mouth, Fabio grabbed his collar and dragged him away.
Doc’s lips tightened into a thin, white line. “Something tells me you’d better watch your back, my dear. Keep me in the loop, okay? You have my number. Call if you need backup.”
“Backup?” She laughed. “You make me sound like some big league detective.”
“We both know you’re really more of a Nosy Nelly, but I am concerned for your safety.” He moved around the desk and stood in front of her. “If there is a murderer in your midst and you keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, there’s a good chance someone will try to chop it off your pretty face.”
“You think someone won’t like me asking questions?” A chill ran through her core.
“I brought you into this world, Gilda, and I don’t want to watch them bury you,” Doc said. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
She shuffled out of the hospital, heart pulsing somewhere near the pit of her stomach. Doc had a point. Maybe it would be best to let Fabio and Thayer do their jobs so she could get on with her life. Why worry about finding a killer when Thayer and Fabio were far more qualified and had better resources to do the investigating?
On her way home, she pushed open the door to Café Beanz. She planned to pick up a coffee and a muffin then go home and make sure her uniform was clean for the training with Yoshida that evening. His classes were tough, but she’d learned to focus on everything except any pain incurred until she got home and collapsed into the bathtub.
Yoshida. He lived in another town and visited so occasionally she’d never even thought of him as a suspect, although he seemed to pop into the school a lot more than usual lately.
Gilda took a deep breath. There she went again. She’d promised Doc she’d keep her nose out of things. No more investigating. If she didn’t honor her promise, she’d end up under his scalpel before long. She paid for her breakfast and scurried toward the school to clean up before the workshop.
That was when Gary stepped out of Happy Harvey’s Hangover Hut, glanced up and waved. He was tenacious and should have been a cop alongside her father.
Chapter 12
Early Tuesday afternoon, Gilda unlocked the front door of the school and was startled to find a lone figure standing in the lobby. Her heart seemed stuck in her throat. Yoshida was no taller than her, yet his presence seemed to fill the room with foreboding. She cringed. “Shihan Yoshida. Sensei Mick didn’t tell me you were coming early.”
“I neglected to tell him.” Yoshida turned to face her, his eyes narrowed. “I hear you have spoken with a number of people about Walter Levy, Miss Wright.”
She shrank back without moving her feet. “I was simply trying to find out why someone would kill one of our most indispensable black belts.”
“Everyone is dispensable.” He toyed with blocks on her desk one of the younger students had left behind. “Do you think by asking questions you can solve a man’s murder?”
“No,” she said, yet that was exactly what she was doing. No wonder Mick called her Sherlock. “I guess so. It was a bit of a shock finding his body. I guess I feel like I owe it to his family to help find his killer.”
His eyebrows rose as he placed a business card on top of the bottom layer of three blocks and his hard gaze met hers. “Did you kill him?”
She swallowed hard. “No.”
Yoshida’s face softened. He piled two more blocks on top of the card. “Then you owe them nothing. Keep your mind on your work and your nose in your business. Asking questions and meddling in the affairs of others will not save this school.”
She wanted to ask what he meant by saving the school, but was concerned his comment was more a threat than a stern piece of advice. “I will. Thank you.”
“I will return in time for our training session. I suggest you not show up or you may get hurt.” He turned on his toes and, abandoning his block creation, walked out the door.
Once the door closed, Gilda hid behind the desk and dared to breathe. Despite the heat, she had a serious chill deep in her bones. A cup of tea would take the edge off, yet she was afraid to set foot outside the building. Too many suspects, too few answers.
She glanced at the clock. No sign of Mick or any of the other black belts. No classes. No students. No Walter. Tears threatened to fall on her paperwork and smear the ink. Yoshida was right. She didn’t kill Walter, nor did she owe his family anything, including peace of mind. The questions, snooping really, were for her own sanity to prove her coworkers weren’t murderers.
Why had he told her not to come to train that night? Either he knew something was going to happen or it was a threat.
“Who’s in here?” Mick called from the front door. It wasn’t like him to be paranoid, but this wasn’t the first time he’d yelled into the school without setting foot inside. Was he worried about running into the murderer or just Yoshida?
“Just me.” She guessed neither Yoshida nor Gary had stuck around outside to wait.
He peered around the corner. “Are you armed?”
Gilda shrugged. “I have a stapler. Does that count?”
“I can deal with that.” Mick leaned on the counter. “Whoa. Are you okay, Sherlock? You look as green as the mats.”
“Yeah. Still a bit rattled, I guess.”
“What are you doing here then?” he asked.
She sighed. “Mid-month payments. Tidying up before the workshop. I don’t want to fall behind while we’re closed.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“Yoshida was here when I arrived.” She met his gaze.
The muscles in his shoulders tensed. “Was he? What did he want?”
“I don’t know, but he was definitely surprised to see me. The door was locked. I used my key to get in.”
“Interesting. What did he say?” Mick disappeared around the corner toward his office.
Gilda bit her lower lip and waited.
When she didn’t reply, he reappeared. “Gilda? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” She shuffled her paperwork.
Mick returned to the counter. “Uh-huh. Sure you are. Did he walk check out the dojo?”
“He looked inside but didn’t turn on the lights.” Her throat tightened. “He stood exactly where you are now, peeked through the doorway then left,” she said. “He did warn me not to train tonight.”
Mick flared his nostrils. “What were his exact words?”
“He suggested I not show up or I may get hurt.” She hugged her stomach. “He also told me to stop asking questions and meddling in the affairs of others since it won’t save this school. What did he mean by that?”
Mick closed his eyes and ran a hand through his thick hair. “Go home, Gilda.”
“But I—”
“Go home and don’t come back until after Walter’s funeral.”
“I have to—”
His jaw hardened. “Don’t come to the workshop. Take the night off. Hang out with Marion. Just don’t show up here.”
She didn’t even open her mouth this time. She just stared. After a moment, her shoulders drooped. “At least let me tidy up and file my paperwork.”
He headed back to his office. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Gilda straightened up her desk before she wandered outside in a daze. The questions popped up at a rate that matched her pace and followed her all the way out to her garden. What was Mick up to and why did he and Yoshida tell her not to show up to train that night? Frustrated, she puttered around in the sunshine for half an hour before the phone rang.
“Okay, Gilda. What’s going on?” Marion asked.
“What are you talking about?” She sat on the back step. “Nothing’s going on. I’m at home working in my garden.”
“Oh, I don’t know. First I overheard Thayer tell someone he ran into you at the morgue then Mick calls me. Keep in mind, he has never, ever called me before. He suggested I keep you busy tonight. He even offered me bribe money. What have you done now?”
Gilda sighed. Mick really was trying to keep her away from the school. “I haven’t done anything. I promise.”
“Well, your boss seems to think I need to keep you busy tonight and suggested you and I go to dinner and a movie.” The sounds in the background said she was still in the dispatch office. “What do you say? My treat. I’ll stop at home and change then we can have dinner and a couple glasses of wine and—”
She was still stuck on one detail. “Mick put you up to this?”