by Diane Bator
“They started to.” Her chin quivered.
Happy grabbed her wrist. “My dear girl, you look horrible. Sit. What happened?”
“Erik.” She burst into tears.
He dragged her behind the counter and forced her onto a stool. “I have never liked that one. What did that two-faced parasita do now?”
She sobbed and reached for a tissue. “Someone killed him.”
“Santa Maria mãe de Deus!” Happy pulled her off the stool, sat down, and wiped his brow. “Are you kidding? That poor man. Was he killed at the school like Walter?”
“When I went into work today, someone knocked me out cold. When I came to, Erik was dead.” She blinked away tears. “I swear that place is cursed.”
Happy crossed himself then scurried around the counter and returned with a cardboard carton which held four small bottles of wine. “Any more than this, you get out of control and do stupid things, amiga. You take this, have a hot bubble bath and next week, you come to me for work. I treat you right. No murders or crazy stuff. Better money, for sure.”
“Thanks, Happy. I promise I’ll think about it.” Gilda reached for her wallet.
“You take.” He stuck the case in a paper bag. “A presente. Get a new life before that place ruins you.”
She wandered down to the beach to the large driftwood tree and sat down to crack open a mini-bar sized bottle. “Here’s to you, Walter. Hope things are much better where you are.”
“Honor,” she said then drained the bottle in one long gulp. Why couldn’t she shake the thought of the kanji and the missing scroll? If the killer followed the pattern of the four possessions, Erik’s death would be over “Integrity.”
No time for silly, sappy thoughts. She cracked the second bottle of pinot grigio open. “Erik, I never really liked you. I have a feeling you’re in a much warmer place than Sandstone Cove. I hope you’re happier there.”
She guzzled the second bottle and sat back, nearly falling right off the log as the alcohol quickly numbed her. “Honor.” “Integrity”. HI.
“Hi.” She giggled as the numbing wine kicked in then glanced into the bag. Two bottles. Two kanji. Three black belts. Only one receptionist.
Gilda slid onto the sand and sat against the log to think. She’d already found two bodies and the killer could have included her in his spree this time. He could have strangled her or worse while she was unconscious on the floor, but didn’t. Was it really all about the black belts and the kanji or had Gilda missed the motive altogether?
She pulled up onto the log then wandered home along the trail that followed Lake Erie’s coast. Once home, she put on the stereo, cranked the volume and tucked the remaining two wine bottles in the fridge. A distraction was in order. After locking the front door, she checked the windows then sauntered into the bathroom.
Once immersed in warm water and bubbles, she forgot her off-key singing and luxuriated. The very word, luxuriated, made her feel worlds away from Sandstone Cove. As she sank beneath the bubbles, her imagination transported her to somewhere tropical with a cabana and a scantily clad pool boy. For the first time all week, she breathed her cares away.
When the doorbell rang somewhere in the distance, she sighed. “Go away.”
The doorbell rang again.
What seemed like seconds later, a loud bang rattled the house and shook the bathroom door. Gilda floundered in the water as heavy footsteps stomped across the hardwood.
“Gilda, where are you?” Mick bellowed.
Her heart knocked at her ribs. How on earth did he get inside? She’d locked all the doors save one. The bathroom. “Stay out!”
When he burst through the bathroom door, she ducked as much of her naked body as possible beneath the bubbles. She pulled the curtain closed and peered around the pink fabric. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes widened, jaw dropped and shoulders sagged all in one motion. “Oh, geez. You’re okay. When you didn’t answer the door, I got scared.” He turned away slightly but didn’t leave the room. “I called a dozen times and rang your doorbell. What were you doing?”
Gilda raised a handful of bubbles. “I turned off my phone and I’m taking a bath. Can you please get out of my house?”
“I can’t. Not with you in the tub.” He bowed his head. “Especially since I broke down your front door.”
“You what?” she gasped.
His gazed returned to the tub. To her. “I got worried when you didn’t answer the door. I knocked then figured you were dead and kicked down the door.”
Gilda closed her eyes. “You mean you kicked it in.”
Mick winced. “Nope, I pretty much kicked it down. It’s lying on the carpet out front.”
Dread filled her stomach. “Have you been drinking?”
“A little. I’m sure we all have lately.”
Guilty. Gilda frowned and hid behind the curtain. “Look, I really need some time alone. Why don’t you go home and we’ll talk later.”
“I can’t.” He sat on the toilet lid and dropped his forehead into his hands. “I don’t have a home anymore.”
“Sure you do. You have a condo on Balsam Avenue.”
“Sort of,” Mick said. “Chloe move in, changed the locks and conveniently never gave me a key. I’ve been sleeping at the school for the past few days now.” He certainly looked dejected enough she believed him. “I guess I should’ve known better.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Gilda reached for the towel on the floor and missed by inches.
With a quick glance at Mick, she tried again. This time she leaned over the edge of the tub onto the shower curtain and pulled it down, rod and all. The fabric draped over her, covering her curves, while the rod clunked her on the back of the head. On top of her lump from the killer. Her vision sparkled with tiny stars.
“Geez, Gilda, are you okay?” He lunged to pull the bar off. “Keep it up and you’re going to take yourself out.”
Mick started to lay the curtain and rod on the floor next to the tub.
She grabbed the fabric for cover. Her face grew hot and a rush of pain pulsed through her head. “I’m fine, thanks. Could you please get out of my bathroom now?”
He stared at her over the fallen curtain. “You know, I thought it was a fluke when Walter got killed. Now Erik’s dead too and it occurred to me I could be next. I really need your help.”
She shifted the wet curtain to cover her body as she sat up. “Why don’t you go make us tea so I can get dressed? Then we can talk.”
“Okay.” Mick stood and moaned. “I guess I should see if I can stand your door back up. I seriously did knock it flat to the floor. You may have to get someone to fix it tomorrow.”
Except for the throbbing pain in her head, she was sure this all had to be a bad dream. Was it possible she was still unconscious in the karate school and never found Erik’s body? Wishful thinking.
Gilda sighed. There was no way fixing her door could wait until morning. “Can you at least pass me a towel? Please?”
He suddenly seemed to realize she was naked and paused to take in the sight of her beneath the shower curtain. The energy coming off his body could have reheated the water in the bathtub as he grinned. “You look good wrapped in plastic. Kind of like a microwave dinner.”
He tossed her a towel then left the room, closing the door behind him.
Gilda quickly locked the door and pulled the plug. While she dressed, she tried to absorb their conversation. For someone who rarely ever drank, Mick had arrived at her house inebriated twice in one week and smelled potent enough for two.
Once again, the safest person to call was Razi.
She peered out the bathroom door and was met by silence. Mick had passed out on the couch. The front door, as he said, lay on the floor. She picked up her phone and called for reinforcements.
Razi appeared on the front step ten minutes later. “Shall I take Sensei Mick home?”
Gilda almost said yes then shook her head. “Let him t
o sleep it off on my couch. Apparently, he doesn’t have anywhere to go anyway. He’s relatively safe here. I hoped you could give me a hand to fix my door though.”
He gave a small bow. “Of course. Do you have a hammer and a screwdriver? I can do a temporary fix, enough to keep skunks out. I highly recommend you call a repair man.”
“Thanks, but I’m sure Mick’s snoring will keep the bad guys away for tonight.”
Razi’s eyebrows squished together. “Which bad guys? The killer or the other ones who are after him?”
She dropped into the lumpy wicker chair. “What other ones?”
He turned away, his face red. “My mistake.”
“No mistake. What other guys? Who’s after him?”
“Sensei Mick likes to make money, but he also likes to...” He paused. “What are the words he used? Bet on the ponies. He introduced me to his friend Gary at the sports bar.”
Her stomach ached. Gary again. “Mick gambles now too?”
Razi shifted his weight and leaned on the flaking wooden railing. “Only occasionally. He lost a horse race and owes fifty thousand dollars.”
“Fifty thousand?” Her jaw dropped. No wonder Gary was stalking Mick.
“Now he is worried they will break his legs.” He fidgeted with a set of keys. “What is worse is that he is Chloe’s father and I believe Sensei Mick called him a grandfather.”
“Chloe’s pregnant?” she gasped.
“No.” He shook his head. “Gary is a gangster.”
“Oh, you mean a godfather.” The weight of the words struck her and she buried her face in her hands. “Oh crap, Mick, what have you gotten us all into?”
“Please, do not tell him I told you. We already have enough problems in the school.”
Gilda frowned. “Erik was murdered.”
“I am aware.” Razi nodded. “Sensei Mick called when you left the school. When I said I saw you leave Happy Harvey’s Hangover Hut later, he was not happy and wanted to find you.”
“So when did he have time to get so drunk?” she asked.
“He started to keep a bottle of scotch in his desk after he started to date Chloe.” He bowed his head. “He must have opened it earlier.”
Scotch in his desk? She should have known to search there. “Why?”
“Walter. Erik. I do not think he was very happy about your life being in peril yet a second time. He considered firing you.”
“Firing me? Why?”
Razi turned away. “He does not want you to be harmed again, which is why I need to fix your door so you can at least lock it.”
She led him to the kitchen then rifled through a drawer. “Does he think the murders have something to do with his gambling problem?”
“Partly.” He shrugged. “Mostly, he believes it is some demented psychopath.”
“That sounds right.” Gilda handed him the tools then they walked past Mick snoring on the couch. “Razi, did you notice anything missing from the school after Walter’s death?”
“Of course. The photograph of Shihan Yoshida and Sensei Mick that used to hang in the front hall.”
She hadn’t even noticed. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” He lifted the door into place. “The scroll of the Four Possessions of the Samurai that hung in the change room. That was the first thing I noticed since we all have one just like it. They were gifts from Mick when we received our black belts just as he received his from Yoshida.”
So much for narrowing down her suspect list.
Chapter 22
As the morning sun peeked through the windows, Gilda stood and glared at Mick sleeping peacefully on her couch. How dare he snore blissfully unaware of her long, restless night or her damaged front door?
She stomped past him and grasped the doorknob. As soon as she pulled open the door, the top hinge popped off so the door hung off kilter by the bottom hinge. She leaned the sagging door against the wall then sat on the front porch step to sip her coffee and stew. How could Mick bring such unsavory characters into her life? All their lives. It was almost like he had no idea his vices would put his students in danger.
After a deep sigh, she finished the last of her coffee. Sure, there was a full pot in the kitchen, but getting more required walking past Mick. After all the horrific thoughts she’d subjected herself to all night, she didn’t trust herself near him when she had an impulse to hold a pillow over his face.
Inside the house, a door closed behind her. When she glanced back, Mick was no longer on the couch. A few minutes later he emerged from the bathroom and strolled into the kitchen. He reappeared with two cups of coffee and a frown. “I think I owe you an explanation.”
“You owe me a whole lot more than that,” she said. “A new door, for one.”
He sat next to her. “At least you didn’t smother me with a pillow.”
“The thought was there.” She took the fresh cup of coffee, setting her empty cup aside.
“Who fixed the door?” He bowed his head as though reliving the reason it was broken to begin with. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”
Gilda wrapped her hands around her mug. “Razi made sure it kept out the rest of the skunks. One of the hinges came off again when I opened it this morning.”
“I know a guy who can fix that.”
“From what I hear, you know a lot of guys,” she snapped, unable to look at him. “Unfortunately, not all of those guys fix things. Some of them kill people.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Razi told me you bet on the horses and lost badly.”
He snorted. “For a strong, silent guy, he can be a real blabbermouth. I can explain.”
“Of course you can. Don’t bother.” She gazed at her garden. “I took the job at Yoshida’s because it seemed like a safe place to work. I like learning how to defend myself, but suddenly, people are dying, you kicked down my front door, and I get knocked out just walking into work. I don’t want to know what you’re involved in.”
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. “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, although I had a concussion.”
His face fell. “You make it sound worse than it was.”
“Really? I thought I was sugar-coating things.” Gilda fought hard not to scream. “I think you should leave.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“I don’t want to talk anymore.” She stood, her hands shaking. “I have to call someone to fix 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 her phone. “Give me a chance to explain.”
“You’ve had the past week to explain and to help me deal with the chaos,” she said. “Instead, you’ve blown fifty grand gambling and got kicked out of your condo by some psycho you let move in, Now we’re both being stalked by her father.”
“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. Finally, she huffed. “Say your piece then get out of my house.”
“First tell me what you meant by Gary stalking both of us?”
She stared at their hands. A couple weeks ago, she would have soaked in his nearness. “He’s been following you, yet I keep crossing his path. You need to deal with him before he does something stupid.”
“You’re worried about me?”
“No, I’m mad at you.” Worry had taken a backseat to frustration after he knocked down her front door. “Just 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 tears spilled down her cheeks as she backed away. “I can’t talk to you right now.”
“We’re not done with this.” Mick used the counter to pull himself up. “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. Her heart seemed to sink into her stomach as he stormed out. Once he’d gone, 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 drained. He took one look at both her door and her tears, then took out his phone to call the police. Once she managed to convince him things were fine, she sat on the couch 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 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’d brought poisoned coffee to her and Mick.