Hardheaded Brunette (20 page)

"In case you haven't noticed, sweetheart, I'm not waiting." He pushed past her.

"How well did you know Charlie Hunt?" She blurted out the words before she stopped to consider how he might react.

Sanchez turned to stare then narrowed his eyes. "Ah,
you're
Sherlock."

Gilda's face burned.

"For the record, I don't like spies, especially pretty ones." He stepped closer, his face inches from hers. His breath was strong with alcohol and mint. "Keep out of my business or I'll give you something else to be afraid of."

She shrank back without moving her feet as his cold gaze penetrated hers. When the door to Mick's office opened, both Sanchez and Mick gawked for several seconds, but neither Gilda nor Sanchez moved.

"What's going on out here?" Mick asked.

Gilda couldn't tear her gaze away from Sanchez's beady eyes. She was too afraid he might try something the second her gaze was averted.

Mick approached them cautiously. "Gilda? Is everything okay?"

"Your receptionist is a nutcase," Sanchez snarled.

Her mouth dropped open. "Excuse me? I haven't done anything. You're the one who barged in like you own the place."

Sanchez's upper lip curled. "You asked me questions about Charlie."

Gomes shook his head. "It's not like you keep your thoughts to yourself."

Sanchez tore his gaze away from Gilda and grabbed Gomes by the shoulders, pinning him to the wall. "What have you been telling people about Charlie and me?"

"I didn't have to say anything." Gomes tried to push his trainer's thick arms away, but Sanchez didn't budge. "You made it obvious how you felt about Charlie at the party the other night. You weren't exactly subtle when you attacked him by the hot tub, you know. If it wasn't for his bodyguard—"

Sanchez snorted. "That bald Neanderthal didn't scare me. I'd already made my point."

Gilda frowned. How had she forgotten about Charlie's bodyguard?

"Let him go, Sanchez." Mick hovered near them. "Whatever you want to discuss with me, say your piece, then leave."

Judging by the thick vein that pulsed in Sanchez's neck, the hard feelings remained in spite of Charlie's sudden death. "I came here to get my fighter so we could get out of this dump."

Mick placed a hand on Sanchez's arm. "You have him. Why don't the two of you get out of my school before you cause any more problems."

He snorted. "What about that nosy secretary of yours?"

"I'll deal with her. You worry about that fight you lined up for Gomes." Mick eased Sanchez's arms to his sides and held onto him, allowing Gomes to sidle away.

Gilda backed away from them, heading toward her desk. Surely she could track Charlie's bodyguard down online, depending on how long they'd been a team.

"How well did
you
know Charlie?" Sanchez shook off Mick then followed her.

She kept her gaze averted. "I didn't."

"Then why do you care how well I knew him or anyone else, for that matter?" he asked. "For all I know, you knew him for years and killed him because he tossed you like a used tissue, just like he did all the tramps he picked up."

Gilda flared her nostrils and gritted her teeth. "I'd never even met him until the meet and greet at Razi's. Why would I want to kill someone I'd never met?"

Mick clapped a hand on Sanchez's shoulder. "That's enough. I already asked you to leave once. If you really want to talk, I think we should take this conversation elsewhere."

"Why?" Sanchez spun around to face Mick. "Because you don't want your little lady friend to hear all the secrets you've been keeping. I'll bet she thinks she knows all about you." He pushed his face into Mick's. "Does she know where all your 'hard-earned' money comes from?"

Mick's face hardened, and his jaw flinched. "I think you should leave now."

Gomes grabbed his coach by the arm. "I agree. Let's go get some lunch."

"I already ate lunch." Sanchez pulled away.

"Then let's go get a stiff drink," Gomes snorted. "I know I could use one."

If Sanchez hadn't growled and followed Gomes, Gilda probably would have. Once the two men left, she dropped onto her chair behind her desk and sighed.

Mick leaned against the counter. "Maybe I should start keeping a bottle of Scotch in my office again."

"To drink after Sanchez visits or whack him over the head with?" When he frowned, Gilda raised her eyebrows. "I gather Gomes said some things you didn't want to hear."

He smiled. "Gomes and I have a very special relationship. Actually, it's a lot like the one you have with Thayer. We love to hate each other and agree to disagree. In fact, if it wasn't for Sanchez and Charlie, we probably could have been friends."

She sat back to study the weariness in his face. "So why aren't you two friends?"

"That's a long story." Mick turned away and headed into the dojo.

"Does it have anything to do with Charlie Hunt?" she asked.

"Pretty much everything."

Gilda sat at the computer. A minute or two later, the rhythmic thuds of punches on a heavy bag filled the school once more. She leaned her elbows on her desk and blew out a breath.

What dark secret was Mick keeping about his past with Charlie, Gomes, and Sanchez? Depending on how well Gary had known all of them, he probably had a good idea what was going on, which could be a big reason why he was suddenly included in meetings with Mick and Kane. Meetings they always excluded her from.

Unable to focus on the tasks at hand, she decided to take a brisk walk to the post office before she got to work. She still couldn't understand why Mick supported Kane's pleas of innocence. Sure, he'd known Kane for years, but anyone could see the guy was a lunatic, couldn't they?

Razi said Kane was a drug addict. Her biggest problem was she didn't
want
to believe Kane or even Razi's assessment of Kane. She simply wanted Kane locked away in a jail cell far away from her. For no other reason than he annoyed her.

Without realizing, she'd walked straight to Mena's shop and paused at the front door. She doubled back to a flower shop up the street and bought some colorful Gerbera daisies to combat the hideous purple interior then returned to the Healing Spirit Gift Shop. Dark purple blinds half-covered the front windows, and a few more boxes filled the floor space than before. A cash register graced the front counter, along with a stapler, a square pad of notepaper, and a clear glass containing an assortment of pens. The black shelves that lined the pale purple walls remained empty.

"Oh, great. You again. You're not who I was expecting." Mena stood in a doorway at the back of the store, her long hair twisted up off her neck and shoulders. "Can I help you before I kick you out?"

Gilda held out the bouquet of flowers, which suddenly didn't look as fresh and cheery as they had in the flower shop. "I thought I'd bring you a little gift for your new store."

Mena folded her arms across her ample chest. "The store's not open yet."

"I see that. When will you have your grand opening? If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."

"Of course. You'll probably show up whether I want you to or not." Mena smirked. "Grand opening is in two weeks. For today, you can do me a favor by leaving and taking your cheap, gaudy flowers with you."

Gilda hugged the daisies to her chest and decided things would be best if she simply left. As she turned toward the door, she collided with a tall, dark man coming inside. Flower petals from the crushed bouquet flew everywhere, even landing on the man's dark jacket.

When she glanced up, a shiver ran over her. Gomes. It seemed he'd abandoned his buddy Sanchez awfully fast once they left the Phoenix school.

"Sorry." Gomes didn't seem to realize who she was straight away. He gave a quick nod and walked past her toward Mena. "You got what I asked for?"

When her gaze met Gilda's, Mena glowered. "Yeah, come on back where we can have a little privacy. Miss Wright was just leaving."

Gomes raised one eyebrow then turned back toward Gilda and nodded.

Gilda took the hint. She dropped the crushed flowers on a box and left the store. She'd barely walked five feet before the door closed and locked behind her. Whatever Mena was selling out of her new shop didn't seem to have much to do with scented oils or energy stones.

Her trip to the post office forgotten, Gilda returned to the school. Before long, students began to arrive and kept her busy enough she had no time to fret about what Mena was up to. By the time she left the school that night, her head buzzed with the start of a pulsating headache and the feeling she'd forgotten something.

Dinner topped her list of priorities. Marion had offered her chicken and a bottle of wine. She'd also volunteered to sleep on Gilda's couch again. Instead, they'd met at Marion's house to polish off a bucket of chicken, a container of potato salad, and a bottle of wine before Marion had fallen asleep in front of the television.

Alone with her thoughts, Gilda closed her eyes. Kane insisted he hadn't seen Charlie after they argued at Razi's. According to Kane, he and Charlie hadn't even been in the same room together in over six months—since they'd dissolved their business relationship after Kane punched Charlie in the face and Charlie's bodyguard stepped in to smooth things over with few words.

Gilda sat upright. That was it. Once again, she'd forgotten about the bodyguard. Why had Charlie, a former fighter, felt the need to have one, and where was that bodyguard now?

She texted Mick.
Why did Charlie have a bodyguard? Who was he?
 

A full minute later, he responded.
Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning.
 

Gilda snorted then phoned him. "Why won't you answer my question?"

"Let it go," Mick said. "How many times do I have to tell you to let Thayer and Fabio do their jobs? They'll track down whoever killed Charlie." He hesitated. "I thought you were convinced Kane killed Charlie. Why are you suddenly so worried about Charlie's bodyguard?"

"Yeah, I was. I am." She released a slow breath, letting her shoulders sag. "I don't know what to think. I just remembered what Kane said about the night he fired Charlie and thought it odd how Charlie suddenly felt the need for a bodyguard."

"Not really. Charlie was involved with a lot of people who would love to see him as roadkill. He wanted eyes watching his back, but only ones he could trust."

Gilda paced her living room, fighting the urge to gnaw on her thumb. "So who was his bodyguard, and why isn't he still hanging around Sandstone Cove like everyone else?"

Mick sighed. "Can we discuss this in the morning? I have some things to take care of right now. You and Marion get some sleep."

"Did you call your girlfriend to tell her I'm borrowing you for the night?" A woman laughed in the background. "The whole night." Another laugh. "I hope she doesn't mind."

She'd know that devious cackle anywhere. Mena. Suddenly all her guilt dissipated into anger. "Oh, I see."

"It's not what you think, Sherlock," Mick said. "She asked if I could help her with—"

"It doesn't matter." Gilda's voice wavered.

Mick groaned. "Yes, it does, babe. Mena needed some help with the new store. We're putting up some display shelves and moving a few things around. I'm not the only one here with her, Razi and—"

She blinked, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. "You don't have to explain. You and she are old friends. I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do. I won't keep you."

"Gilda—" The rest of his words were lost when she hung up.

"I don't want to know." Gilda dropped the phone on the couch and clutched a cushion to her face to catch the tears. What he did with Mena
did
matter. It mattered a great deal.

Had she seriously thought Mick would change his ways for the likes of her? Happy had always told her a tiger never changed his spots. As wrong as his animals were, maybe his logic had been right all along.

Gilda cleaned up the kitchen and put away the meager leftovers then chose to go home to her own bed rather than crash on Marion's sagging couch. While she was grateful for the silence on her short walk home, fatigue settled deep into Gilda's body that night as she locked the door then curled onto her couch. Guilt gnawed at Gilda that she'd left Marion asleep at her own house.

She blew out a long sigh and clapped both hands over her face. Maybe she owed it to Mick to rethink her opinion of Kane and give him a chance to prove himself. Maybe she owed Kane that much.

As for Mena…

Maybe she was over thinking things. Mick had been friends with both Kane and Mena for years. Perhaps he was simply being a good friend, just as he'd said, and Razi and Kane were there as well.

She sighed then texted Mick to apologize for hanging up. When he replied a few minutes later, he not only gave her the address so she could drop by to see the place for herself but sent pictures of bare shelves and a stack of boxes, as well as Razi and Mena hanging pictures on the purple walls and drinking what she assumed was tea from paper cups.

Since she'd already seen, and had been kicked out of, Mena's creepy purple shop, Gilda made herself a cup of tea and smirked. "Have fun."

She changed the channel on the television and had just settled down to watch a comedy when something thumped on the back deck. Curious, she tiptoed toward the back door and peered out the window. At first, she didn't see anything. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she made out the shape of a shovel lying on the wood.

With no hesitation, she called the police.

After a long, sleepless night, Gilda made a decision. She couldn't stand to be away from classes any longer than she had to be, especially the day class. She'd much rather train than be stuck sitting on the sidelines with her arm in a sling, even for one more day. At this rate, her next grading would have to wait a few months longer since she'd never be ready to earn her brown belt this time around. She was starting to think she really might need to focus on defending herself, especially after last night.