Single Elimination: A Cozy Mystery (Brenna Battle Book 4) (2 page)

2

Sierra Vista, Arizona, One Month Earlier

After my own classes on Thursday night, I walked to the old, stand-alone garage behind the police station, where the Bonney Bay Police Athletic Club held their judo practices. Blythe usually came with me, but tonight she had plans for a long, relaxing bath. It was a warm evening, and the roll-up door was open about a foot to let some air in. I could hear Will counting out the warm-up exercises inside.

The actual entrance to the dojo was a standard door. I opened it and entered the small building. In spite of the roll-up door not being shut all the way, it was pretty steamy inside. Ah, the old, familiar smell of judo—grown-up judo, anyway. Whether world-class athletes or raw beginners, it was pretty much the same. And strangely comforting to a girl like me. It might be funky, but it smelled like home, no matter how far away from home I really was.

Will looked up and caught my eye, mid-push-up. His smile, as he blinked a drop of sweat out of his eye, lifted my heart. I should come by more often. I should spend more time with him.

The man I loved.

I pulled my gi on over my shorts and T-shirt and joined the circle right beside him.
 

“Hey, Brenna’s here.”

One by one, the officers and the other students
 
got up and shook my hand. You didn’t have to be a police officer to join the PAL judo Club, but most of the small group were cops or friends of cops. I was pretty popular among these guys, ever since a near-deadly incident on the Fourth of July. Even Chief Sanders, who used to see me as just a meddler, a slightly odd woman to be humored because I was dating his best officer, genuinely respected me now. It was nice not to feel like someone who was only really good at one thing; to be respected for something other than a title, even one I’d worked so hard for.

But that was all an accident, Brenna. It could’ve turned out different. You could be dead. Will, too. The kids hurt…

All those crazy doubts kept creeping into my thoughts, even keeping me up at night—
Who are you now, Brenna? Who are you?
Why couldn’t it just be settled? Why didn’t I know? Why did it even matter? But it did. I knew it mattered, and I couldn’t change that. Reinventing yourself certainly isn’t for the weak.

After warm-ups, we went straight into
ne waza
, ground fighting.

Will gave my sleeve a tug. “Let’s go, Brenna.”

“Ready for another beat-down?” I smirked.

“You have a soft spot for me. You won’t beat me up too bad,” he said with mock pleading. Those honest brown eyes, which had drawn me to him from the beginning, danced.

We faced each other and bowed in.

“Seriously, I always learn the most when I go with you,” he said.

And Will was truly my favorite partner in this group. Sometimes less experienced men were dangerous, especially if they were big and strong—and if you were good enough to threaten their precious egos. Even nice guys who didn’t mind getting beaten “by a girl” often didn’t know how to hold back on those sudden, uncontrolled bursts of energy and strength that could injure a partner, whether they could beat them or not.

Will had an ability to work hard and yet use technique and not brute force. Even when he couldn’t get what he was going for, he didn’t give in to that temptation. I felt safe with him. He was going to make a good black belt one day. Hopefully soon. He’d gotten his brown belt through his college judo club, and ever since he moved here a few years ago, there was no one to teach him more or promote him.

Once I felt like he was ready, I’d have to fill out paperwork and submit it to the regional promotion board. Official Black belt ranks in judo are overseen by a governing body; they aren’t just bought and sold. There’s another, opposite, misconception in the US that blackbelts are untouchable. That’s not true either. They have to have a good breadth of knowledge, be comparable to other blackbelts in the area, and be actively contributing to judo in some way.

Will had been teaching judo here at the PAL as a brown-belt for the past year, something that was technically a no-no. But after he moved here, he’d missed judo and at the time starting his own class here was the only practical way to keep doing what he loved on a regular basis. He’d approached me right away and asked me if I could help him get better.
 

“You’re baiting me,” Will said as I faced him on the mat, offering him my sleeve.

“Maybe.”

“Bully.”

“Just do it. Just do whatever you’re going to do.”

“I’ll bet you know exactly what I’m going to do before I even do it.”

I laughed. That was pretty much the truth.

Will and I sat out the next round, watching his students. I quietly pointed out the strengths and weaknesses of some of them to Will, so he could work on them later.

We watched as Walter rolled his partner, sliding his forearm under his chin and gripping his own shoulder to choke him. It was a little rough, but nothing like the disaster I’d witnessed the first time I came to the PAL for practice. Walter Random was a nice guy, but he had no natural finesse. I’d taught a simple choke I’d shown to countless groups of all skill levels, and he’d almost crushed his partner’s windpipe.

“Looks like Walter’s doing a lot better,” I said.

“Yeah, he is. He’s still a little slower of a learner than the others, but he’s getting the hang of it.”

“Not so dangerous?”

“I can watch him without cringing now, yes. Did you know his grandfather’s entering the race?” Will said.

“For Mayor?”

“That’s right. Herbert Random Senior is in the running. Walter just told me he’s making an official announcement tomorrow.”

Mr. Random was one of the council members pushing for an exemption for Harvey. From what I’d seen, he was a good, compassionate man. But, dynamic? Charismatic? Nope. The man could be mind-numbingly boring. Boring beat stupid and crooked in my book, but what chance did a dry, honest man have in Bonney Bay’s election?

“Harvey likes him. Did I tell you he wants me to save his front walk? And of course, his roses.”

Will made a skeptical face.

“What’s the matter, Will? You don’t think I have superpowers?”

Will surreptitiously slipped his arm around me and gave me a quick squeeze. “Only over me.”

I frowned and pulled away. He knew I didn’t like to mix romance and mat time. There was a reason I’d always had a
No Dating Judo Guys
policy. Will shook his head at me. I ignored him and changed the subject.

“I just don’t understand why they’re so stuck on widening that spot of sidewalk. I mean, all these years, they didn’t know it belonged to the city. And the city did just fine without it. And after everything Harvey’s been through lately, where’s the compassion? His niece and all his friends try to get Harvey on the road to relative sanity, and the Town Council decides to do something just to make him crazy.”

“Maybe you can hold them off until we get a new mayor. Someone who’ll listen to reason.”

“Someone who’s not Gunter Hatton.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about Gunter. He always says the right things, but…”

“Aside from his stance on Harvey’s property, it’s hard to forget how he obsessed over Millie.”

Millie’s mysterious death had brought to light Gunter Hatton’s infatuation with her, a married woman.

“He seems like a scandal waiting to happen, and this isn’t Washington D.C.”

“It would be nice if a little town like Bonney Bay, at least, didn’t have to worry about dirty politicians, scandals…”

The timer Will had set on his phone dinged. It was time for the next round. We both rotated in with new partners. I tried to lose myself in the fun and exertion of judo and forget about our problems. I was here, doing what I loved, with the man I loved. And whatever worries we had, at least, for once, they had nothing to do with murder.

I peeled off my sweaty gi and folded it. Will looped his belt around his neck and took a long drink from his water bottle. He leaned in close, and I could feel the heat radiating from him. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go out. Ice cream?”

He was breathless, a little shaky from the workout. He looked great.

“How can I say no to ice cream?”

We’d finished off practice with eight straight rounds of standing randori—sparring with throws. Most of the guys were drooping and staggering. I’d made them push themselves hard. I felt fantastic. Definitely too amped up to just go home, shower, and tuck myself in.

I picked up my phone to message Blythe, and saw that I had a new text:

Brenna, it’s Jake. Please call me.

I nearly hulk-crushed the phone, I was squeezing it so hard. I took a deep breath and relaxed my grip. I’d worked really hard on not constantly wanting to hurt Jake. Now that I had Will, I hardly thought about him. Yet seeing his name, seeing that message from him, I felt an unwelcome wave of that strange power he used to have over me. I shuddered. It felt like something that needed washing off.

“A quick shower, and I’ll meet you at Shaw’s in half an hour?” Will was saying.

Shaw’s was Bonney Bay’s old-fashioned soda fountain. They made shakes and sundaes to die for. But I was only half listening. Earlier today, I’d gotten several calls from an unknown number. I didn’t answer, and they didn’t leave a message. I checked, and confirmed it was the same number. I’d blocked Jake’s number for a reason, and now he was texting me from a new one. Why? It was so tempting to text back and ask. What if it was something about an old judo friend? What if someone was sick or in trouble?

Then someone else would tell me. Jake would ask someone else to contact me, if that’s what it took. But for some reason, Jake wanted to talk to me himself. And the day that happened would be the day I gave up my most loyal friends, caffeine and sugar, and started eating nothing but hummus and blueberry-kale smoothies. In other words, never.

But not knowing was killing me. What on Earth did Jake want?

“Brenna? Is something wrong?” Will nodded at my phone.

“No, just…just annoying.” Jake had been a knife in my wounds after my Olympic disaster, and now he was a pin, pricking my happy bubble. Dang it, when had I ever had a happy bubble like this?

Will gave me a puzzled look, but I didn’t give him any more information. Jake and Will—they didn’t belong in the same world, let alone in the same conversation.

3

Bonney Bay, Washington, One Month Later

Blythe and I headed down the hill to Brightside Beach on foot, mesh bags stuffed with towels and sunblock slung over our shoulders. It was a bit of a trek. The paid parking lot at the beach was free to residents, but it was tiny, and we figured it was best to leave the spots for paying visitors to Bonney Bay and those residents who really couldn’t make the walk. The narrow strip of beach was positioned in a curve along the bottom of a steep hill, just to the other side of the railroad tracks that ran along the coast, so there was no street parking down there.

Just up a slight hill, about six feet above the blend of sand, pebbles, and broken shells that made up the natural beach, a swath of bright green, manicured lawn carpeted the park. Just inside the park entrance, a couple of volleyball nets were spread across beds of non-native, perfect sand. An intense game of beach volleyball was already underway. Mostly Bonney Bay PD versus the Fire Department, it looked like. I sighed, imagining Officer Will Riggins playing. But Will’s shift wasn’t over yet. I smiled to myself, remembering when I’d first met Will. I’d pegged him for a self-absorbed jock, the kind who worked on his bod just to show it off on the beach volleyball court. I hadn’t really thought Bonney Bay would have beach volleyball courts, or that I’d fall in love with Will and look forward to watching him play.

Walter Random dove for the ball and missed, plowing through the sand.

“Nice one, Walter,” Officer Tony Pfeiffer sneered. Tony’s tank top hung unflatteringly on his skinny frame, billowing like a flag on a pole.

It wasn’t a friendly jab, and I really wanted to jab Tony. Blythe caught my arm. “Let the guys deal with it, Brenna.”

She was right. It probably wouldn’t help Walter if I acted like his mommy, coming to his rescue. Tony Pfeiffer seemed to exist only to be a thorn in my side, ever since the day I stormed into the Bonney Bay Police Department after they’d arrested my sister for murder—with my underwear sticking out of my pant leg. It’s a long story. One I found much less amusing than Pfeiffer did. And apparently he enjoyed messing with Walter, too.

The smoky scent of salmon filled the air. Huge grills were lined up in the picnic area, where hot coals glowed under racks and racks of salmon fillets. David Marillo, a history buff and the owner of Bonney Bay’s only gas station, the Fill-Up, stood there in his great, big apron, basting them with a large paint brush.

Nearby, hotdogs roasted for those crazy non-salmon-eaters. I piled my plate with salmon, corn on the cob, three bean salad, and extra buttery garlic bread. With her own plate much more reasonably filled, Blythe headed for a table with a couple of empty seats. I followed. It just so happened that those empty seats were right across from two twenty-something guys.

I knew right away which one of them was the draw for my guy-crazy sister. I could’ve guessed it even if her “hello” didn’t speak volumes on his state of cuteness.

The cute guy set down his corn on the cob and returned her hello with the enthusiasm Blythe tended to inspire in anyone who met her for the first time. He
was
handsome, in a strawberry-blond, freckled way. His straight hair was cut short and his beard, a deeper red, was neatly trimmed.

He wiped his hands on his napkin and shook both of our hands. “I’m Luke Baldwin.”

We introduced ourselves. The guy sitting next to him, right across from me, stuck another bite of baked beans in his mouth and mumbled, “Hey. Zack Hermiston.”

Such is my lot in life.
Was
my lot, anyway. Now I had Will. I was still trying to figure out how I’d managed that one.

“I don’t think I’ve seen either of you around.” Blythe graciously included both of them in her question.