by Diane Bator
"Done. I'll ship my little princess off to New York. My brother can set her up with a job or something." Gary stuck his hands in his pockets. "Anything else?"
Gilda shook her head. "Nope. I'm good. Let's track down Mick."
They discovered him in front of the school, unlocking the front door. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, took one look at them, and groaned. "I'm hot, I'm sweaty, and I'm not in a good mood. Can we save the intervention for later?"
"No intervention." Marion held the open door. "Just some problem solving."
"Great." He led the way into the lobby and glanced at Gilda. "Gary, I didn't know you hired female bodyguards. That's an interesting concept, even for you."
"You know why I'm here," Gary said. "Do you have my money?"
Mick stood in the middle of the lobby. "I'll give you the money, but you need to get Chloe out of my condo, away from my Ferrari, and out of town. Do we have an agreement?"
Gary winked at Gilda. "I understand the problems you're having with her and wholeheartedly agree. I thought having her around would be fun, but she's turning into her mother. I'll send her to New York and line her up with some rich plastic surgeon she can ruin."
"So far, so good," Marion said. "Gilda, what do you say we get out of here and let these two gentlemen finish up."
"Don't leave just yet. I want witnesses." Mick led the way to his office and handed Gary a small duffel bag. "I trust cash will be fine."
"Done." Gary took an envelope out of his pocket. "I'll trust all the money is here since your life's on the line. Gilda says I can count on you, so I will."
Mick met her gaze. "Good to know."
The men shook hands, and then Gary left. Once the door closed, Mick slumped into one of the plastic chairs lined up for parents to watch their kids in classes, and let out a deep sigh.
"That's it?" Marion asked, shaking her head. "No shoot out? No fist fight? I was looking forward to a little more mayhem. All you two did was exchange packages. I had more fun watching Gilda take on Thayer last night." She waved a hand. "Call me if you need backup, Gilda. I'll talk to you later."
Once her friend and wannabe bodyguard was gone, Gilda sat beside him on a flimsy chair and frowned. "I agree with Marion. That was too easy. What was really in the bag? It looked too light to be cash."
"Newspaper," Mick said.
"What did he give you?"
"Plane tickets." He opened the envelope and let her take a peek. "He's sending Chloe over later. I'm supposed to give her a ticket to New York and convince her to leave town before the trouble between her dad and me escalates and she gets caught in the middle."
"What do you get in return?" she asked.
"He's moving her out of my condo and changing the locks." Mick tapped the corner of the envelope on his leg. "He came by after Fabio took you home last night. We had a couple drinks and decided it was best for both of us if Chloe was gone. I also settled up my debt."
Gilda narrowed her eyes. "So what was the whole duffel bag exchange about? Gary grabbed me off the beach and freaked me out for nothing."
"He told me he's been following you," Mick said. "In his line of business, it serves him well not to trust people, and there are people around you right now who bother him."
"You and Thayer mostly."
"Mostly." Mick chuckled. "Fabio and Razi, among others."
"In short, he doesn't trust anyone I know." She smiled. Gary was just like her father.
"He trusts you. That's why he wanted to stage our exchange in front of you—to put your mind at ease."
Weird to think she felt all warm and fuzzy that a known bookie thought of her as a step up from his daughter. "I need a shower. You people make me feel dirty."
"I'm assuming that's not in a good way," Mick said. "If I wasn't expecting company, I'd go with you."
As flattered as she was by his offer, she winced. "Who are you waiting for?"
"Relax." He pulled her close and kissed her. "Chloe should be here soon, and then Xavier's coming by to train. After that, we'll go out for lunch. What could go wrong?"
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Gilda replayed her discussion with Mick while she spent her nervous energy ripping weeds from the ground. She'd repeated their conversation so many times, since she was no longer sure what was fact and what was fiction. Something just felt wrong. Mick and Xavier trained at the school where two other men died. Was one of them the murderer, or did the murderer know they were there?
Hot tea with honey was the best antidote to calm her irrational thoughts. All her frustration bubbled beneath her skin until tears burned her eyes. She didn't want to run down to the school to check on them, and look like a fool, yet she couldn't sit and do nothing. The phone rang behind her as she poured boiling water into her cup. Her hands shook as she set the kettle aside and let the machine pick up the call.
"Gilda. It's Marion." The panic in her voice over the answering machine was palpable and filled the room like bubble wrap. "Whatever you're doing, drop it, and get to the school."
She bobbed the bag in the hot water and struggled to ignore the pressure rising in her chest. Afraid of what she'd hear if she answered the phone, she shook her head. "No way. Mick can take care of things without me."
When the phone rang again, Marion shrieked into the answering machine. "Answer the bloody phone, Gilda. Now!"
Alarmed, she picked up. "What's going on?"
"I'm at work and don't have time to explain. Just go to the school. It's an emergency."
Lately, the only emergencies at the school seemed to involve dead bodies. She set her cup in the sink. Had Mick discovered one of the other black belts dead? Her throat tightened. What if he'd been murdered? She'd never forgive herself for leaving him alone.
"Oh, crap." She bolted out the door then returned for her purse, in case she needed her keys to lock up behind the forensics crew again. She brushed off half the morbid thoughts and raced out the front door.
Gilda spotted the police cruisers from two blocks away and broke into a sprint. This was no prank. Something was definitely wrong. People milled around outside the front door, trying to get a glimpse of what had happened inside.
"Get out of my way. I work here." She shoved through the crowd and flew past the officer who guarded the door. "What's going on? Where's Mick?"
Fabio and Thayer stood over a figure seated behind the front desk. Her desk. Drops of blood dotted the floor. Her breath lodged in her chest as she tried to get a better look at the person in her chair.
"Who let you in here?" Thayer lunged to stand between her and Fabio. "You have to leave now. Go home. We'll talk to you later."
"Let her stay," Mick said.
At the sound of his voice, Gilda's heartbeat slowed enough for her to catch her breath. "What's going on?"
Fabio's already cavernous nostrils flared, and then he and Thayer moved aside.
Mick sat in her chair covered in gobs of blood. When his gaze met hers, he frowned and swallowed hard. Combined with the black eye and contusions from Chloe, at first glance he looked like he'd murdered someone.
Gilda swallowed past the fear that her first impression was right. "Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid. What happened?"
"We don't know yet," Thayer said. "Neither of them is talking."
"Neither of them?" she asked, her eyes widening and her stomach sinking.
On the tatami mats beneath the shrine, Xavier lay on his back, arms and legs sprawled wide. The handle of a dagger stuck out of his chest. The ornate Japanese dagger Mick kept on his desk. A prized gift from Yoshida when they first opened the school.
Footprints had thinned patches in the pools of congealed blood nearby. Mick must have arrived shortly after the murderer left and checked Xavier for a pulse. There was nothing anyone could do for Xavier now except call his family.
Thayer towered over Mick and put on his tough-guy act. Apparently he'd forgotten Mick could knock him to the floor with a flick of his finger. "If you don't start t
elling me what happened, I'm locking you up for the rest of your miserable life."
"Back off," Fabio said. "Maybe you should let Detective Wright take a bash at him. I'll bet she has less abrasive ways to make him talk."
"More than you know," Thayer growled.
Gilda cringed and stared at Mick. When he met her gaze, she wasn't so sure she wanted to hear the truth, especially not after Xavier had tried to poison both of them not so long ago. She had as much reason to want him dead as anyone else.
"Sit," Mick said.
Her hands shook and her knees weakened. "I can't do this anymore. First Walter, then Erik, now Xavier. I'm going home and locking my door. I quit, Mick. For real this time. You have to deal with things by yourself this time. I'm done."
"Sit." He motioned to the chair beside him.
"Not a chance." Her chin quivered. "You were right. I give up. I don't need to play detective. Thayer and Fabio can handle everything. I'm going home." She turned to walk away.
Thayer grabbed her arm and steered her to the desk. "Your boss told you to sit."
"He's not my boss. I already quit twice." She folded her arms across her chest. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't work here anymore, and I'm never coming back."
"It's okay, Gilda," Fabio said. "You're scared and in shock. We all understand." He looked past her and frowned. "Mick, I need your clothes for evidence."
"Sure." When Mick stripped off his shirt to reveal rippling muscles, a female officer tried to hide her stare. "Gilda, can you at least do me one last favor? Grab me a change of clothes from the chair in my office."
"I'll get them," Thayer said.
"Gilda knows where my things are," Mick insisted.
She scowled, curious why he wouldn't trust anyone else. Any of the officers could have fetched his clothes. "Fine. I'll get your clothes, but after that, I'm leaving."
"Thanks," Mick said. "After that, you can leave."
Gilda wove through the maze of people and paused in the doorway of Mick's office. Pristine was the first word that sprang to mind. Too pristine, considering the current state of the rest of the building and how messy the school was just a short while ago, especially with Mick living there lately. He wasn't normally that neat.
His clothes were folded neatly on the desk, not slung over the back of a chair as usual. His sandals, the only thing out of place, sat under the desk, not on the shelf out front as usual. Beneath his clothes lay a stack of papers. Rental agreements for a building in Detroit, which Yoshida had already signed and stuck bright-yellow paper arrows where Mick was to initial and sign.
Gilda grabbed his clothes and stuck the papers beneath her shirt with a sudden yearning to hear what he had to say. She clutched the papers against her stomach with one arm, then rejoined the men and handed Thayer the clothes.
"Do you want to search them to make sure I didn't smuggle him a weapon?" she asked.
When Mick blanched, she shook her head a fraction of an inch.
Thayer hesitated then shook out each item of clothing and handed them to Mick. "He can change, but I want one of my officers to keep an eye on him."
Mick snorted, unzipped his jeans, and dropped them to the floor. He stood behind the desk, wearing nothing except a pair of Snoopy boxer shorts, then stuck his thumbs in the waistband. "Did you want these too?"
"No!" Both Thayer and Gilda hollered.
The female officer's mouth dropped open, and her face darkened to crimson.
"Put your pants on." Fabio chuckled.
Gilda turned her back. She was used to seeing Mick walk around with no shirt, but not in his skivvies—aside from when he woke up in her bed. First he'd professed his love to her, now he was practically naked in front of her and most of the local police force. She had no idea how much more of his insanity she could stand without another long, cold shower.
"Come and sit." Mick patted the chair beside him. When both officers moved closer, he held up a hand. "Just Gilda. The rest of you take a hike."
"She's not a lawyer," Thayer said. "There are no confidentiality rights between an employer and employee."
Fabio yanked his partner away from the front desk. "Give them one minute before you walk Mick to the gallows. You can interrogate them both later."
Gilda joined Mick. She hadn't even sat before he grabbed her arm.
"Did you find the papers?" He pulled her so close that their noses bumped. When she lifted her shirt and showed him the papers, he grinned. "Anything else in there I should know about?"
"What are the rental papers for?" she asked. "What's Yoshida up to?"
"I know whose ring you found."
Gilda sat back, her mouth open wide.
He whispered. "Xavier came in to look for it the other day. His father-in-law's a goldsmith. The same goldsmith who made a copy of Xavier's one-of-a-kind ring for Yoshida a couple years ago after Xavier and his wife split up."
"When I asked him about it, he never said a word," she said. "He never said anything when you mentioned it at Razi's house either."
"Shh!" He pulled her by the front of her T-shirt until their noses touched again. "He said he hid it to keep it from one of his ex-wives. Yoshida didn't dare say anything, or he would've definitely been a suspect."
"He was already a suspect anyway," Gilda said. "He probably didn't even know anyone had found the ring until you told him. So who killed Walter and Erik?"
Mick shrugged, glancing toward the dojo. Fabio leaned in the doorway, doing a bad job of pretending not to watch them. "No idea. I don't even know who killed Xavier. Someone knocked me out and left long before I woke up."
"Yeah. I guessed that by your footprint in the blood."
"Huh?"
"The blood was already congealed when you stepped in it. If it was still wet and runny when you got here, I don't think your print would be so clear." She hesitated. "This really doesn't matter to you, does it?"
"Xavier and I planned to train for a couple hours. I went to my office to make a phone call and change. When I came out, I heard a noise, and then someone hit me from behind. When I came to, Xavier was laying there, and I tried to give him CPR. Then I heard a noise."
"The killer?" Gilda tensed.
"A cat."
"A cat? From where?" she asked.
Mick motioned his head toward the wall. "The vent, which leads to the roof. It would be a pretty handy way for someone to sneak in and out without being seen."
But only for someone a great deal smaller than either Razi or Mick. She shivered. So much for her theory the killer was a black belt. Yoshida was a black belt who was smaller than both men, but he could walk in and out of the school without anyone paying much attention.
"When did you call the police?" she asked.
He reached for the bottle of hand sanitizer on her desk. The empty bottle only sputtered when he squeezed it. "After I checked his pulse, and before I checked out the vent. Marion took the call."
"Yeah, she phoned me."
"And you came running to make sure I was dead."
"Hardly." Gilda frowned. "She just said there was an emergency, and I should get over here right away."
He reached over and gave her a hand a squeeze. "I thought maybe she told you I was the murderer and to stay away from me if you valued your life."
She tilted her head. "Why would she tell me that?"
"Because I was a blubbering idiot when I called, and I'm sure I said something about being covered in blood." He studied his hands as though they belonged to someone else. "I need a hot shower and something to scrub off with."
"I need a word with your boyfriend." Thayer shooed Gilda away from her desk. After another fifteen minutes of interrogation, Thayer let Mick go with the warning, "Don't leave town or else."
"Thanks, but I live at the school right now," Mick said. "I don't have anywhere to go until Chloe leaves town. She was supposed to show up a couple hours ago to pick up her plane ticket. Gilda, do we have more hand sanitizer?"
"Yeah,
in the back. I'll get you some." Gilda bit back an offer that Mick could go home with her. Not only would Thayer take it wrong, so would Mick. She headed toward the utility room and opened the door.
Bleach wasn't something they normally used in the school, yet there were five bottles in the closet. Large bottles that would take both hands to move. She leaned into the closet for the mop and cleaner. The smell from the bottles made her gag. Whatever was in them certainly didn't smell like bleach. More like gasoline.
"Mick." She called, ignoring everyone but the rumpled, bloody man who lumbered toward her. "Did you put these here?"
"Bleach?" he asked. "You know I never use the stuff. What're they doing here?"
"I've never seen them before either," she said. "They sure don't smell like bleach."
Thayer shoved her aside. He grabbed a bottle and sniffed the contents then yelled for everyone to clear the building. At first, no one moved. They all seemed to hold their breaths.
Fabio limped around the corner. "What is it?"
"Gasoline," Thayer said. "Enough for someone to burn this place and half of Main Street to the ground." He turned to Mick. "I think it's time you came to the police station."
Mick shook his head. "This wasn't my doing. Dust them for fingerprints. This place is all I have. Why would I want to torch it? Whoever put them there probably killed the others and is still out there somewhere."
"If you don't come peacefully, I'll have to cuff you," Thayer said.
Mick's shoulders tensed. "I'm probably safer there than here anyway."
Gilda almost agreed until something caught her attention. The bottles were stacked neatly, not set inside in a line. Three bottles on the bottom with a board wide enough to balance the remaining two bottles that sat on top of the lower three. It appeared someone with an obsessive-compulsive disorder had cleaned and reorganized the utility room. Yoshida?
Fabio turned to Gilda. "I'll need your keys to lock up, before you leave."
Mick said nothing, but when he glanced into the closet again, the angle of his head spoke volumes. "She's not safe here either."
Thayer narrowed his eyes. "You know something, don't you? What did you see?"