Can't Keep a Brunette Down (16 page)

"What are you…?" She frowned then turned to see what he was looking at.

Xavier strolled toward them, his suit rumpled and tie askew. His face was red and his left eye puffy with angry, red knuckle marks embedded in his flesh. He ordered a coffee on his way past the waitress, then slid onto the bench seat next to Gilda. "I see you guys didn't go to the cemetery either."

"I've already said my good-byes." She moved closer to the window.

"I wanted to make sure Gilda was okay. I thought she might pass out when she saw Walter." Mick shot her a warning glare.

She raised her eyebrows. She'd spent a lot more time with Walter's dead body than Mick had. What was he up to?

Xavier patted her knee beneath the table, and his hand lingered for a couple seconds longer than she was comfortable with. "It's okay, babe. For the record, I don't even want to go to my own funeral."

"How's Erik holding up?" Mick asked. "I saw you talking to him when we left the funeral home. Was he the one who roughed you up?"

"I tripped on the curb and fell." He turned a deeper shade of crimson. "Erik caught me."

"More like his knuckles caught you." Mick smirked. "You need a better cover story."

Gilda had doubts as well, which nearly scuttled out when her pie, warm and dripping with melting ice cream, arrived. Xavier ordered a slice as well. She was sure Erik had made it appear he'd helped Xavier up, since Erik was fast and sneaky. His speed and agility gave him an edge in karate, particularly in tournaments. It also made him a likely killer.

"Guaranteed to shake off anything life throws at you. Eat up." Mick nudged her plate closer to her then picked up his fork and turned back to Xavier. "So what did Erik want?"

"That looks really good." Xavier took his coffee from the waitress and scooped in three teaspoons of sugar. "He wanted to know what happened to the sword that killed Walter."

Gilda paused with a forkful of peach less than an inch from her mouth. "What?"

"I assume the police or the crime lab still has it," Mick said. "What does Erik want with it? It's a murder weapon. Bad karma."

"I'm not sure." Xavier sat back when the waitress brought his peach pie with ice cream. Before he even sipped the coffee, he dug into the pie like a starving man. "He sounded like he really wanted it, probably for…" He cast a nervous glance to Mick, then at Gilda.

"I know about his new business," Gilda said. "Is that why he wants the sword? For a decoration in his karate school?"

Across the table, Mick cocked his head, a bead of vanilla ice cream on the corner of his mouth. "Who told you?"

"Thayer and Erik."

Both men seemed to deflate then returned to their food. Xavier shoveled pie and ice cream into his mouth, but Mick moved slower. At first, she thought he savored each bite, until she realized his mouth moved, while his eyes had glazed over as though his mind had wandered off. She hoped he would fill her in once Xavier left. If Xavier left.

After five minutes, Mick pulled out his wallet and threw a ten-dollar bill on the table. "I've gotta go. Walk Gilda home will you, Xavier? I'll check on her later."

Gilda huffed and finished the last of her pie and ice cream. She didn't like being referred to in third person while still sitting at the table. Where was Mick off to in such a hurry, and why didn't he take her along? So much for sticking together.

Xavier slid around to the other side of the table. "What's with him?"

"Maybe he's going to see Chloe."

He sipped his coffee and made a face. He'd probably poured in too much sugar, yet he added one more spoonful. "I thought they broke up again. Personally, I think she's a spoiled brat, and no one else likes her."

Apparently, Walter liked Chloe. So did Erik.

"She's not so bad," Gilda said.

Xavier snorted. "Have you noticed Gary del Garda hanging around outside the school lately? I think he's spying on Mick. I guess he's just making sure Mick treats his daughter right."

"Possibly." She sipped her coffee.

"Good thing he's friends with you then, since you're the only one who always knows where Mick is. I don't think Mick even calls Chloe half as much as he calls you. If I didn't know better, I'd think there was something going on between you."

She frowned. "Hardly. Every phone call is about the school. Besides, keeping track of Mick is like containing steam with one hand. Half the time I don't even know where he is and what he's up to."

Xavier leaned forward, ready to listen.

Gilda finished her coffee, unwilling to divulge more. She managed to lose him later by ducking into Happy Harvey's Hangover Hut. All she needed was a few minutes of peace and quiet in the air-conditioned store. What she got instead was a head-on collision with Jade in the doorway. "Oh no. I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you okay?"

Jade hugged a paper bag to her chest. Bottles tinkled. "Fine, thank you."

"Is the burial over already?" Could she be any more tactless?

"I forgot to pick up wine to toast Walter's life," Jade said. "I do hope you will come by the house to join us."

"Is your friend going to be there?"

She frowned, her dark eyes wide. "My friend? Which friend?"

Too late to turn back now. Gilda had bulldozed into dangerous territory. "The man who was upstairs when I stopped by the other day. Your house guest."

"You must be mistaken." Jade's face paled beneath the fluorescent lights. "There was no man at my house."

Happy must have sensed the sudden drop in temperature. He moved around the counter and edged closer, straightening bottles on the shelves and casting furtive glances at Gilda and Jade. Hopefully he'd have her back if things got ugly.

"I guess so." The words slipped out even though her brain screamed for her to shut up and leave. "I thought I saw someone in a yellow bathrobe."

"Walter was my whole world. You are mistaken." Jade shoved past Gilda, knocking her into a stack of beer cases, then fled out the front door to a waiting silver sports car.

Happy grabbed Gilda's arm and steadied her. "You okay,
amiga
?"

"Confused, but aside from that…" She sighed.

"I have no idea what you said, but she looks guilty of something," he said. "She comes in here a lot. Is she married?"

"Widowed. Her husband was Walter, the instructor murdered at our school Friday." She nodded and watched the door in case Xavier found her. "I know she's guilty of something. I just don't know what."

Happy walked back to the counter then handed her a bag of ice. "This is not as good as
um saco de ervilhas,
but it works."

"Not as good as what?"

"
De ervilhas
. Little
verde
vegetable. How you say it?"

Verde.
Green. "Peas. A bag of peas. I don't have any."

Happy smiled and put the bag of ice and a small bottle of wine in a bag. "Good. Then you take these. Both numb pain."

Gilda pushed the bag away. "I'm not in pain."

"Take it anyway." He snorted. "You walk like
um pinguim
and look like Frankenstein monster. You have bad karate class?"

"Is it that obvious?" She took the bag and set it on the counter. "What's
um pinguim
?"

Happy pressed his arms along the side of his body and waddled across the floor.

She laughed, despite the pain from the cut on her lip. "A penguin. I didn't think it was that obvious."

"It better not be that Sensei Mick man who hurt you." He wagged a thick, calloused finger. "I never sell him my good scotch again."

"No, not Mick. Yoshida got carried away." Gilda held up both hands. "Wait. Mick buys scotch from you? I didn't think he drank."

Happy's expression darkened. "Watch out for that one. I know him. He is a devil."

"Mick?"

"Him too. I mean Yoshida. " Happy cast a glare out the window toward the school. "If you do not do what he says, he makes your life miserable. Nothing makes that one happy. He is a danger. Go home, heal your body, and stay away from that school."

 

"What a crazy, stupid week." Gilda filled another small bag with ice, clutched it to her aching face, then sprawled on the couch, eyes closed. As soon as she had relaxed and drifted off to sleep, her phone rang.

"You busy?" Mick asked. "I need you to meet me at the school."

"Right now? Why?" She wiped drool off her cheek.

"Now, Gilda." He hung up without waiting for an answer.

Unwilling to get off the couch, she groaned. Her whole body hurt. She grumbled about giving up karate and threw the ice pack in the freezer, then grabbed a water bottle and shuffled to the karate school. The door was unlocked, and the lights were all on. So far, so good.

"Fine, I'm here." She called out. "What do you want?"

Around the corner, Mick, Erik, Xavier, and Razi sat in Mick's office. All four appeared somber, yet anxious, and avoided looking her in the eye.

Her stomach did three cartwheels. "This looks like some kind of intervention."

"In a way, it is." Mick cleared his throat and motioned to an empty chair. "We're all worried about you playing Gilda Wright, P.I."

Her heart sank as she sat. "Did Jade call you? Honestly, I didn't mean to be rude to her in Happy's. She makes me nervous, and I babble and say the wrong things."

Concerned glances darted across the room, and then they all shook their heads in weird, prerehearsed unison.

"Actually, Mrs. Watson called," Mick said. "Her grandson saw someone lurking around the karate school late last night and called the cops. Thayer admitted he caught you."

"I wasn't lurking." Skulking maybe. "I wanted to see if there was another way in or out of the school. People saw Mick leave that day but never saw anyone else come or go until I arrived."

Erik sneered. "Did you find a top secret entrance?"

"No secrets. Just the back entrance that looks like someone tried to pry it open, and a cat who jumped down out of nowhere," she said. "Is there an opening to a vent or anything up there?"

"Nothing I know of." Mick flinched. "The door's old news. Some kids tried to break in last winter. I fixed the worst of the damage, but it's still warped where they tried to get in."

Xavier took her hand. "Look, honey, we all like you, and none of us wants to see you get hurt. Do us all a favor and leave the detective work to that sorry excuse for a cop."

"Who?" she asked.

"Thayer." Mick studied the desk top. "Has he interviewed all of you yet?"

Razi nodded. "Yes."

"Unfortunately." Erik rolled his eyes. "The guy has rocks for brains. At least he's got a good partner."

Gilda wasn't about to argue, since she held the same opinion.

"Twice," Xavier said. "Once about Walter, and once about the dent in my bumper."

She recalled the damage to the pole out back and the chips of silver paint. "Do you always park in back?"

Xavier's face reddened. "Have you been talking to Thayer? That's exactly what he asked. I told him Erik parks there more than I do."

"
You
told him that?" Erik asked. "Man, he said he had some hokey evidence I was guilty. He made it sound like he had a video tape of me smashing into a sign and taking down half the bloody building."

Gilda tried to make her explanation sound as innocent as possible. "He and I saw the same scraped post and thought one of you hit it."

Erik's nostrils flared. "So you think I killed Walter, ran out the backdoor, then hit the post before I left."

"It's possible," she said.

"Well, I didn't hit anything. That scrape came from a black car that backed into me at the grocery store," Erik said. "Xavier's car has a dent and scrape in the side too, you know. I know for a fact he hit something in the back lot. I saw it happen."

Mick stood. "Let's go take a look. You can tell us what you saw."

"Forget it. I need to go." Erik groaned. "I have other things to attend to."

"We all do." Mick's nostrils flared. "We're going to check out the post and help Gilda get over this need to solve a murder without serious help."

"Mental or police?" Erik asked.

Mick pressed his lips together but didn't answer.

Gilda scowled. "If you mean I should work with Thayer, forget it." When the others raised eyebrows, her face burned. "It's no secret he and I used to date. He's a jerk."

"You're not helping yourself here, Sherlock." Mick led them all to the alley via the back door. "Show us what you found?"

Gilda crouched in front of the post near the corner of the building. "This one. There's a gouge and flecks of silver paint in it."

"Should we call
CSI
?" Xavier asked. "I'm sure they can prove by the angle of the gouge, the color of the paint, and the phase of the moon that my car hit that sign when I pulled in, then hit this post right after I killed Walter Levy."

"Sounds right," Erik said.

Gilda didn't bother to mention the dent in the sign. "Knock it off."

"Hey," Xavier went on. "If they weigh my car, I'll bet they can even prove I lost three pounds training Tuesday night and had Jimmy Hoffa's body in the trunk. Do you think they can figure out where I buried him?"

Mick stepped between them. "That's enough, both of you. We're not here to accuse anyone. Right, Gilda?"

She winced.
Not without proof and reinforcements, anyway.
"You're right. It's all speculation."

Razi paused to examine the door, then seemed to shrug the damage off and headed back inside without a word.

"I gotta go, kids," Erik said. "This was fun. Let's do this again sometime. Maybe next time we can bring booze and dates and make it a party."

Xavier glared at Gilda then stormed down the alley out of sight.

Gilda closed her eyes. She'd suffered a stomach ache for at least a week before Walter died. Had Xavier tried to poison her more than once in preparation for Walter's demise? "I know he's mad, but what if I'm right?"

Mick draped his arm across her shoulders. He smelled like coffee. "Then I think you'd better sleep with one eye open."