Death of a Jaded Samurai

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Death of a Jaded Samurai Page 20

by Diane Bator

Of course she didn't want to lose her job, but in love with Mick? Gilda wasn't ready to make that leap and refused to let him goad her. She sipped her coffee and scalded her tongue but refused to let him see her pain.

  "She already gave us the evidence she found, remember?" Fabio said. "Why don't you go down to the beach and see if anyone there saw anything strange Thursday night or Friday?"

  Thayer grumbled but rose and sauntered to the gate. "Don't think I don't know you're trying to get rid of me."

  Gilda smirked. "He never seems to know when I'm trying to get rid of him."

  Fabio waited until Thayer was several houses away before he sat back and turned his full attention on Gilda. "Some days he's smarter than he looks. You're lucky you got away before you were stuck with him for good. I have to work with him until the chief ships him off to Alaska or the Everglades."

  "I'd really work on that if I were you," she said.

  "I know you and Mick work together, and it's hard not to be loyal." He sipped his coffee. "Mick and I trained together for years, both karate and at the gym. When I got shot, he made sure I had what I needed. I know there's no way he'd murder anyone."

  Tears blurred her vision. Finally something about Mick she didn't know. "So who's on your suspect list then?"

  "Aside from everyone in town? Razi and Xavier are at the top of my list, but I hoped you could tell me more about Yoshida. I stopped training with him a long time ago."

  "Yoshida? Seriously?" Her eyes widened. "Was he always so strange?"

  Fabio shifted his weight, rocking the swing. "From what I hear lately, he's got a few more screws loose than he did back then. I know he's been hanging around Sandstone Cove more than usual since his wife dumped him six months ago. Any idea why?"

  "Chloe told me she ran into him in the store." She hesitated.

  "Relax, Gilda," he said. "I really don't suspect you of anything either. Well, not unless you're dating Yoshida. I don't think you're seeing anyone, are you?"

  "No." Not unless hanging out with Mick at the beach last night and running home in the rain with him counted? Probably not. It wasn't like they did anything but talk or swim—her face warmed—and kiss several times.

  "I'm sure the right guy will come along soon enough." He patted her knee and winked.

  "Are you trying to set me up?" she asked.

  Fabio grinned. "Just giving unwanted advice."

  "Is that why you're really here?" She sipped and savored her latte. She'd have to remember to put cinnamon and chocolate in her lattes more often.

  "I want to know who's on your short list. Two of your coworkers were murdered. I assume you have a few ideas about who would want them dead."

  Gilda's stomach churned. "I thought I did, but now I'm not sure of anything. Everything I thought I knew about everyone was way off base. I don't even know if I can go back to the school after this past Friday."

  "I'm sure no one would hold that against you." He studied her. "Who gave you the shiner and fat lip the other day?"

  "Yoshida." She winced. "We did kumite in our workshop Tuesday. Ask Mick."

  "I'm guessing that's who tagged Mick's face as well."

  "Yoshida lost it." The memory sent shivers up her arms. "He came to spar me then went completely nuts. Mick stepped in. I should've been able to fight back, but the look in Yoshida's eyes scared me. It was like he was possessed or something."

  "Possessed or stoned?"

  She froze. "I don't think he does drugs. Does he?"

  "Just a story I heard at Happy's. Something Marion Yearly told Happy." He paused. "How well do you know Marion?"

  "She's one of my best friends and took me to the hospital when I got hit on the head. Chances are, if it was something serious, she would know. Of course, if it was gossip, she'd know that too."

  "Good to know. Would you do me a favor? If you hear anything or find out anything else, let me know." He handed her a card. "My number's on the back. Don't worry about Thayer. I'll deal with him."

  "Sure." She stared at the card.

  "Keep in mind, if you're keeping things from either one of us, we may have to arrest you for your own protection. I'd really hate to see you behind bars, though. Just make sure whoever you're protecting is worth it."

  Gilda sucked in a sharp breath. "What makes you think I'm protecting anyone?"

  "Call it a hunch." He patted her leg again and pushed to his feet. "I hope you know exactly what you're doing, honey. By the way, tell Mick to work on his back stroke next time you two go for a midnight swim."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Erik lay in his casket Monday afternoon looking more like an elegant mannequin than a corpse. He was the best-looking dead guy she'd ever seen. The makeup artist at the funeral home must have had a crush on him. His funeral was far different from Walter's. The crowd at Walter's service was older, more refined. Most people who came to say good-bye to Erik were younger, more beautiful, and spent more time texting than talking. Across the room, his stepmom held his younger sister, a teenager with heavy black makeup streaked across her face, while his dad, with a frozen smile, greeted people.

  Gilda sat on a pew, her heart heavy. This wasn't the way things were supposed to go. Her friends and coworkers were supposed to drop dead after long lives of hard training and making her life miserable. Even Erik.

  "I thought he was moving to his mom's place," said a tall, blonde woman in a black dress, which barely concealed all her assets. She stood with two men and a woman. All four wore pouts and could have been posing for a magazine cover rather than attending a funeral.

  "He was." A dark-skinned man wearing a dark shirt and a thick gold chain shifted his weight. His gaze darted toward the casket. "He said he told off his boss at the moving company and couldn't wait to tell Mick to kiss his lily-white butt before he left town."

  A raven-haired woman laughed. "Oh please. Mick's a pussycat. Did anybody see that creepy old dude he did karate with? He's the one I'm worried about. Did you hear how he beat Erik up after we had that party at the school? The dude was livid."

  They all exaggerated shivers then chuckled.

  Yoshida.

  The dark-skinned man grew serious. "Anyone know how Erik's meeting with the karate guys went?"

  "No," said the blonde in the black dress. "We were supposed to go for dinner the night he died, but he stood me up."

  He snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if one of them lured him to the school after the meeting and killed him."

  Gilda bowed her head. Why hadn't Mick told her about meeting with Erik? If all the black belts were present, her suspect list hadn't whittled down any. If not, she was down to Yoshida and Mick, which gave her little comfort.

  Across the room, Mick pushed away from a lanky, balding man who looked a great deal like Erik. His father? "Get out of my face."

  "All I want is to know the truth." Erik's father followed Mick toward Gilda.

  Mick's nostrils flared. "This is neither the time nor the place. You want to talk to me, call me after the funeral."

  "I'm not going to—" Erik's father was pulled back by his wife, a tiny, blonde woman who grabbed his arm and reprimanded him in a hushed voice.

  Mick slid onto the pew beside Gilda and cursed beneath his breath. He hadn't walked her to the funeral home this time, nor had he even called since he left the night before. It seemed he'd kissed her then had run for cover, either afraid of his reaction or hers.

  "What's going on?" she asked.

  "Nothing."

  She raised her eyebrows. "That actually sounded more like a major something."

  "Erik's dad wants to know if I killed his son," he said. "Do you think anyone would have enough brass to go to the funeral of someone they murdered?"

  "I'm sure it's been done before. Guilty people do weird things."

  "Stop helping." He groaned.

  "You asked." She leaned toward him. "I have to ask you something."

  Mick patted her thigh. "Yeah, I know. We had a great evening, a
nd then I left and didn't call. I've been busy answering questions for the cops and trying to get Chloe out of my condo."

  "Not about that." That thought had certainly weighed on her mind, though. "I overheard a few people talking about a meeting you and Yoshida had with Erik the day he was killed. Rumor is, one of you lured him to the school and killed him."

  He paled. "Can we talk about that later?"

  "Why didn't you tell me you met with him?" she asked.

  His attention was riveted on the doorway. "Great. Yoshida's here. Time to start kissing up. I guess I should be glad he's putting in an appearance and taking some heat off me."

  Gilda's gaze followed Yoshida through the crowd. He was one man who could probably kill a man, then attend his funeral and do karate on his grave later. Cold as a frosted glass of beer. He spoke briefly with Erik's parents, then stood over the open casket longer than she'd expected.

  "What's he up to?" she asked.

  Mick leaned closer. "What do you mean?"

  She inched away. Mick's cologne was distracting. Disorienting. "He's rarely come to the school, yet he's shown up at both funerals, and I've seen him at the school several times in the past two weeks."

  "Maybe he's putting on a good front." He shrugged. "Two murders in a week does make the school look bad, and we need a little good publicity. We'd look even worse if people found out we were robbed, on top of everything."

  Gilda raised her eyebrows. "The missing merchandise?"

  Mick held a finger to his lips. "Yoshida's gone. Let's go make sure no one left another kanji. Integrity will be next. If the murderer is following the sequence and leaves the kanji in the casket." He grasped her hand and pulled her along behind.

  "What's your hurry? He's not going anywhere." She stumbled into his back when he stopped.

  "No, but we might be." Mick draped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to the casket. "See anything unusual? Anything in his pocket?"

  "Aside from he looks like he should be on a date with Barbie? Just the usual." She kept her voice tight.

  "No kanji? Focus, Gilda."

  She huffed. "What do you want me to do? Search him?"

  "Do we have time?"

  "You're a sick puppy." Her gaze fell a piece of material. "It's in his hand, and I'm not touching him."

  Mick reached into the casket and tugged the cloth from beneath Erik's pale fingers. He tucked it into his suit jacket. "Looks like someone left a gift for Erik, but I doubt he'll need it as much as we do."

  Gilda covered her mouth to keep from gagging. She peeled away from him and prayed he'd go sit with Razi, Xavier, and Yoshida and wouldn't follow. Since the three men were near Erik's family, she had no such luck.

  Mick touched the small of her back and led her to an empty pew. "We can go to Café Beanz later to check it out."

  "What's wrong with you?" Erik's dad stormed toward them. "Isn't it bad enough you killed my son? What are you trying to do to him now?"

  "Just saying good-bye to my friend," Mick said.

  "Good idea." His face grew red, and he folded his arms across his barrel chest. "Maybe you and your girlfriend should leave. There are enough of your troublemaking friends here. In fact, take the whole gang with you. You should all go home and leave my family alone."

  Mick's body tensed against Gilda's. "Out of respect for you and your family, we'll leave. Come on, Gilda. I'll buy you a coffee."

  "Okay. That's good." Erik's dad deflated slightly and seemed ill prepared for Mick to back down so easy. "The rest of you as well. Get out."

  "One more thing." When Mick held up a hand, the room went still.

  "Let's just go," Gilda said. "Please, don't make a scene."

  "Erik was a good kid. I was very proud of all he accomplished at our school. He would've been a great sensei one day. I'm sorry for your loss." He draped one arm around Gilda's waist and led her out of the chapel.

  "Where did that come from?" She kept her voice low, not looking back to see if the other black belts followed. "That was actually really nice."

  He scowled. "I'm not always a jerk."

  "I wouldn't work for you if you were."

  "Good to know." He gave her a squeeze. "You want to go for a swim?"

  Her step faltered. "I'm not really dressed for it."

  Mick grinned. "If we go around midnight, you won't need to be dressed at all."

  "Skinny-dipping?" Heat surged through her and radiated out the ends of her hair. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. Won't we get caught?"

  "Not where I go," he said.

  Gilda's imagination worked overtime as they reached the coffee shop. Had he kept his distance from her earlier to give her time to think, or had he come onto her at Razi's and on the beach last night in an attempt to throw her off his trail?

  Mick nudged her over by the window and slipped onto the bench beside her. He unrolled the scrap of cloth he'd taken from the casket. "The second kanji. I was right."

  "But who put it in his hands?" she asked. "A lot of people paid their last respects. How do we narrow it down?"

  "Gut feeling? I'd say—" Interrupted by the waitress, he scrunched the fabric in his hand. "Large coffee, cream and sugar."

  Gilda ordered a low-fat latte with cinnamon and chocolate curls.

  When the waitress left, Mick skirted around to the other side of the table. "What the hell?"

  Chloe was seated across the room head-to-head with Thayer.

  "Do you think he's asking questions about you?" Gilda asked.

  He shook his head. "I think she's cheating on me."

  "I thought you broke up." Gilda bit her lower lip. He'd hung out with her at the beach only the night before. Cripes, that made Gilda the other woman. Her palms sweated.

  "What?" Mick narrowed his eyes. "You know something, don't you? What's going on?"

  She kept all thoughts of him cheating on Chloe locked up. "I've been asking questions. A lot of things I didn't want to know came up."

  "About all of us, I'm sure," he said. "We'll talk later."

  When he stood, Gilda grabbed his jacket sleeve. "You're not planning to do anything stupid, are you?"

  "Would it bother you if I did? You hate Thayer as much as I do." Mick winked. "Actually, I'm getting my coffee to go so I don't have to look at them. Then I'm going to get out of this monkey suit. I've got some work to do."

  "Do you want me to come into the school today? I have some paperwork I could finish up. It'll be easier to focus if I know I'm not alone."

  "Nope. I want you to go home and play in your garden. You've done enough for now, Sherlock. Let me take it from here." He kissed her forehead then walked away, shoulders slumped, leaving Gilda alone in the booth at the back of the cafe.

  When the barista handed him a cup of coffee, he left like he'd never even seen Chloe, Thayer, or Gilda. Like he had things on his mind that didn't include any of them.

  She blew out a long, slow breath. After all he'd done to get so close to her, why was he putting so much distance between them now?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  "Hello, Gilda." Gary leaned against the hood of his car in the afternoon sunshine. Today he sat parked in front of her house, facing downtown. "Sorry about your friend Erik. I knew him through Chloe. He was a good kid. A bit messed up, but still okay. The funeral home made him look really good."

  She folded her arms across her stomach. "I didn't see you or Chloe at the funeral."

  "You and Mick left when we arrived. Something about a disagreement with Erik's father," he said. "Is there something going on I should know about? I mean, the two of you seem awfully chummy lately."

  She let her shoulders sag then walked over to sit on the porch. "I give up. What do you want from me?"

  He followed her up the steps and leaned on the railing. "I want is to make sure you don't get hurt. There are a lot of bad things going on around here lately, and you seem like a nice girl pushed into a bad position."

  "What position is that?"
>
  "Hanging out with a murderer."

  "Why would you care?" Gilda blinked back tears.

  He picked a marigold—out of the same planter Chloe had butted her cigarette—and tucked it into his buttonhole. "I told you. Despite our differences, I had a lot of respect for your father. I also know Mick and the boys you work with. Your friend Yoshida is a shady character. Even from my perspective."

  "Funny. That's what everyone else says about you, including Mick." Or at least that's probably what he would say if she asked him.

  Gary glanced at the street and sighed. "I have chosen a bumpy road through life."

  "To say the least."

  "I was in jail when your father was killed. The man who shot him had been a good friend up until the day I was arrested." He paused. "While your father put the cuffs on me, he asked me one thing that made me think hard about what I was doing with my life."

  Gilda shivered despite the heat. "What did he ask you?"

  "He asked when was the last time I saw my daughter." Gary's voice cracked. "I was in jail for the next ten years and didn't see her until my release. Her mother kept her away from me. I know I spoil her too much and can't make up that lost time, no matter how hard I try."

  Her eyes stung with tears. "At least you're able to try. My dad didn't get a second chance."

  Gary handed her a small packet of tissues. "I'm aware of that, which is why I'm obligated to keep an eye on you now. Those men you work for are trouble. All of them. I'm trying to keep you safe without being obvious until I have to be."

  A jolt of fear, closely resembling an electric shock, pulsed through her body. "You didn't kill any of them, did you?"

  "I had no reason to," he said. "If you asked me to, though, I'd be glad to make both Mick and Yoshida disappear free of charge."

  "No thanks."

  "You are sweet on Mick, aren't you?" Gary smiled. "Chloe said she suspected something was up. She'll back off if I tell her to. She really only dated him because everyone else wanted him, and she thinks I don't like him." He grimaced. "Apparently, she has my people skills."

  "Actually, I think yours are far better than hers."

 

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