Death of a Jaded Samurai (19 page)

BOOK: Death of a Jaded Samurai
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"They're not false," he said. "The guy's bothering you. While you're at it, tell him to lay off me too. He's had some guy in a black car tailing me all over town."

"That's Gary and you still need to talk to him." When she stood, her vision blurred and darkened. She shook it off and headed for the door.

As she left the school, Thayer called out, "You can't leave yet. I have more questions."

Gilda kept walking, her head spinning, and hoped Mick would back her up. She ducked into Café Beanz, grateful for the air-conditioning and the aroma of freshly ground coffee. Comfort food. "Two large Jamaican Blue, please. I'll take two chocolate-banana muffins as well."

The barista set two large paper coffee cups on the counter. "Wow. I can't believe you're having coffee so soon after your latte. Must be a tough morning. Classes back to normal today?"

"Supposed to be." How had she forgotten about her vanilla bean latte? It was probably cold by now anyway.

"Oh, honey, everyone loves you and Mick." The barista handed her a bag containing the two muffins. "There's no reason they won't go back."

Two dead bodies and a serial killer might do it. Gilda took the coffees and added milk and sugars. The smell of coffee made her gag. Maybe she should drop off Mick's food and run home, where nothing would make her nauseous or sick. She rubbed the lump on the back of her head and prayed she didn't have a concussion.

The police station stood right across the street from the coffee shop. If she stopped, their coffees would get cold. A plausible excuse. So was the nausea and the sudden yearning to go to sleep on a beach in Tahiti far, far away from the school, Thayer, and Mick. Maybe she could go see Doc and get a note excusing her from work for the rest of her life. Was that too drastic?

Thayer opened the front door of the school for her and grabbed the coffee she'd fixed for Mick. "Ah, payback can be sweet."

She entered the lobby and was about to stop him but reconsidered. Thayer drank his coffee black. Mick's had enough sugar and milk to make her body vibrate for an hour and a half. If nothing else, Thayer's attempt at retribution would be good for a laugh.

He stood in front of the desk to make sure Mick was watching before he took a huge mouthful of sweet coffee. A second later, he spit it all over the desk, the floor, and Mick. "What did you put in there?"

Mick howled. "Double milk, triple sugar. Good job, Gilda. That was even better than my idea." He took the cup and pried off the lid. "You're not the sharpest dart in the board, are you, Thayer?"

Thayer huffed and disappeared down the hallway. "You people are sick."

"Muffin?" Gilda handed Mick the bag. "Chocolate chip banana. Your favorite."

"Ah, you know me well. You're the best, Sherlock," he said. "Are you okay? You look kind of pale."

"I'll be fine. I think it was the whack on the back of the head." Or finding Erik's body a week after finding Walter's. Or the lack of sleep. She glanced into the dojo. "What do you think the odds are of getting Thayer to personally clean up his mess?"

Mick snorted. "About the same as getting me to clean up mine."

"Slim to none, then." Gilda sat and drafted an e-mail to inform the students while they waited for Thayer to return with more questions. The more she typed, the worse she felt. "No classes until Monday. I'm really starting to hate Fridays, you know." She frowned and wiped away a tear. "By the way, I won't be here next Friday. Or any Friday after that."

He patted her hand, leaving behind a dab of chocolate. "I agree. I think we should stay closed Fridays from now on."

"I'll finish sending e-mails then go home." More tears overwhelmed her before she had a chance to stop them. She buried her face in her hands.

"Sherlock?" Mick's chair squawked. "Hey, honey, you okay?"

"No." She gasped for air, but the walls seemed to close in.

He pulled her close. "Come on, babe. Hold it together. Don't fall apart in front of Thayer, or he'll eat you alive."

"I'm sorry. I—"

"Don't worry about it. You probably need a good cry. Believe me, I get it, but Thayer will see it as a sign of weakness," he said. "He'll think you have something to hide. Why don't you go wash up? I'll keep him busy."

Gilda wiped her face with the back of one hand and zigzagged around the investigators to go splash her face with cold water. Mick was right. Thayer would pounce on her weaknesses in front of everyone, and there was no way to hide her red, puffy eyes.

As she returned, Mick sat at the keyboard typing a single letter at a time. He concentrated so hard she was surprised his tongue wasn't sticking out of one corner.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to help, but I think it'll take me until Christmas to get this done. I don't exactly have your typing skills." He moved out of her chair.

"That's not good, considering it's July." She sat at the keyboard and was almost done when Mick cleared his throat.

"Uh-oh. Here comes the pretty boy," he said. "Brace yourself."

She finished the e-mail and hit send. "I'm leaving. I don't want to see or hear any more."

"Tell him to take a flying leap—then leave." Mick grinned. "Better yet, let me tell him."

"I'll tell him." She reached for her purse and stood. Her vision dimmed, and the room spun. "Thayer, I'm leaving."

"Wait a minute. I need—"

"Gilda, are you okay?" A loud voice broke into the conversation like a sledgehammer as Marion flew into the lobby. "You don't look so good."

"Somebody did clobber me." She rubbed the tender lump the assailant had left behind.

Marion ran a hand over Gilda's scalp. "Wow, that thing's bigger than Thayer's brain. Did one of these clowns at least call an ambulance to get you checked out? I think you need a bodyguard before one of these morons gets you killed."

Mick's mouth opened then he bowed his head. "You're right. I should've checked."

"You're hired, Marion," Gilda said. "Actually, I'm fine. I'm going home to take a nap."

"Oh no you're not." Marion came around the desk. "You're pale and in shock, and I'm taking you to the hospital."

Thayer emerged from the dojo. "Who's going to the hospital?"

"Gilda," Marion said. "She has a concussion and needs medical attention."

"A concussion?" Thayer's jaw dropped. "Honestly, she seemed fine, considering everything. I'll take her to the hospital."

Mick snorted. "You're conducting an investigation and can't leave. I'll take her."

"And you have to stay to lock up the school when we're done," Thayer said.

"Oh, pack the testosterone away." Marion waved them both off. "You two are pathetic. Step aside, boys. This girl needs a doctor, and you have to give her peace and quiet."

"I'll send an officer to escort you." Thayer moved aside.

When Mick blocked their exit, Marion glowered. "Step aside, Sensei. I'm done with work for the day, so
I'll
take care of Gilda. You keep Thayer out of trouble."

"I will. Thanks, Marion," Mick said. "Take good care of her for me."

At the hospital, Gilda was surrounded by more doctors and nurses than necessary. Apparently she was a local celebrity after finding not one, but two bodies in the span of a week. The lump on her head got full attention, as did the fading bruises on her face, and everyone told her she needed a better hobby. She was in and out of the emergency room in record time.

Marion was leading Gilda to the exit when an altercation broke out in the waiting area. When Thayer yelled, she groaned. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

"I'm here to take Gilda home." Mick didn't sound much calmer than Thayer. "She's my employee, and this happened on the job. I need to make sure she's okay."

"If you were any kind of boss, you would've called an ambulance for her earlier," Thayer said. "Get out of my way before I call for backup."

"You saw her before I did. Why didn't you call for help?" Mick asked.

"I had a body to deal with. You sent her out for coffee."

Marion growled. "They're both stupid. Don't worry, Gilda. I'll deal with them." She stormed down the hallway and bellowed, "Both of you go away and leave this poor girl alone."

The nurse shoved Gilda into a room as the voices outside grew louder. "You're better off staying here for a minute. I'll get rid of them so Marion can take you home."

Gilda sat and closed her eyes, her hands trembling in her lap. What on Earth was wrong with the world? Two of her friends were dead, and Mick and Thayer were arguing over her. She liked life a lot better when she could walk through her day without anyone noticing what she did.

Marion blew into the room and ranted about what she'd love to do to Mick and Thayer if she ever met them in a dark alley. "Sorry about that, hon. No more men. No more bodies. Nothing but peace and quiet for the rest of today. We can watch sappy movies, eat buttery popcorn, and put our feet up."

Gilda sighed, head still throbbing. "Sounds perfect."

Rather than take her out some obscure exit, Marion marched her straight out the front door. "Those two aren't smart, but they are devious."

As they drove out of the hospital parking lot, Gilda spotted Mick and Thayer hovering near a rear exit of the emergency room. "How did you know they'd be there?"

"My sister's the head nurse," Marion said.

Gilda burst into laughter. "You know they'll eventually figure out we left and come bang on my door."

"Yep. By then you'll be on your couch with a big mug of tea and warm chocolate chip cookies." She pulled into Gilda's short driveway. "What did you ever see in Thayer anyway? I get if you've got the hots for Mick—who doesn't—but Thayer gives me the creeps."

"He was different in high school. Sweet and athletic." She unbuckled and led the way inside the house. "After he went to the police academy, he came back a total jerk."

"That's rough." Marion forced her to sit on the couch with a fluffy blanket over her lap then went to make tea. "So what's going on with Mick lately? Are he and Chloe getting serious, or are the rumors true and they split up?"

Mick was like Peter Pan, never wanting to grow up, not always taking responsibility, and hardly noticing anything about anyone else. Somewhere deep inside there was a serious side most people rarely saw, yet lately she'd seen glimpses.

"I don't think they'll last," Gilda said. "They argue every time they're in the same room. He even told her not to come to the school to train anymore."

She eased off the couch to check all the doors and windows. Satisfied no one else could get inside without attracting attention, she returned to the couch and snuggled up with the blanket.

"At least you just got a mild concussion. I heard Erik ended up with throwing stars in his back." Marion handed her a steaming mug and sat in the rocking chair. She turned on the television and flipped channels until she found
Casablanca
. "Who knocked you out?"

"I don't know. I didn't actually see anything." She breathed in the soothing scent of chamomile. On the small screen Humphrey Bogart drank and played a game of chess in Rick's Café Américain. "Whoever was there was as quiet as a cat. Ninja-like."

"A black belt maybe?" Marion sighed. "Poor Erik. Nobody deserves that, not even him."

"What do you mean?" Gilda nestled down into the cushions.

"That boy's been in trouble his whole life. I thought Yoshida and Mick had finally straightened him out. Last I heard, he was going behind Mick's back to open his own school."

That fit with what Gilda had heard as well, but she didn't realize the whole town already knew. "Do you know where he was planning to open his new school?"

Marion rocked and sipped her tea. "One of my friends from the bank told me he'd rented a run-down warehouse in Erie."

"Why Erie?" Gilda yawned. Too much excitement for today. All she wanted was to be left alone, but Marion wouldn't leave her side without good reason.

"His daddy and stepmama moved there three years ago. I guess he figured he'd live in their basement until business picked up, but his stepmama nixed that idea, and he had to get his own place."

First Walter, now Erik. Gilda set her cup aside. Someone seemed to seriously hate the black belts of Yoshida Martial Arts. It was only a matter of time before the next one fell.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

After Marion left for home, Gilda paced the living room and rechecked every door and window. Her head hurt, but she was tired of feeling caged. She grabbed her purse and headed for Happy Harvey's Hangover Hut in search of a friend and a bottle.

Happy threw his arms open wide when he saw her. "Gilda! You hardly ever come in since you broke up with that cop, yet suddenly you come in twice in one week. I am truly blessed. You look pale and tired,
amiga
."

When he pulled her close, the scents of stale beer and Doritos surrounded her. She relaxed and took comfort from her old friend. Thayer was currently the least of her concerns. "I've missed you too. I thought I'd pick up a bottle of wine for dinner."

Happy raised his eyebrows. "Big trouble in Little Japan? Sensei Mick is getting out of hand? You would be wise to get a job somewhere else. Here, maybe."

Gilda swallowed hard, relieved the store was empty. "It has been trying, but it's nothing to do with Sensei Mick." Well, not entirely to do with Mick, anyway.

"Oh, Walter," he said. "I'm so sorry,
amiga
. His death was truly awful. Did all your students come back after the funeral?"

"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?"

"Someone killed him." She sobbed and reached for a tissue.

"
Santa Maria mãe de Deus!
"
Happy pulled her off the stool, sat down, and wiped his brow. "Are you kidding? That poor boy.
Was he killed at the school, like Walter?"

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