Single Elimination: A Cozy Mystery (Brenna Battle Book 4) (7 page)

The tiny building beyond the pumps was home to the mini-est of mini-marts. Outside its red doors, planters overflowed with red, white, and golden poppies.
 

I didn’t really know David, apart from the friendly greetings we exchanged when I came in to fill up. Sometimes I entered the little convenience store to grab a treat while I was at it. I went inside to peruse the racks of candy bars. The bell on the door dinged when I entered, and David appeared in the little doorway between the counter and the tiny back room. He was a stocky guy with a rugged-looking face, made pleasant by plenty of smile lines.

“Good morning, Brenna.”

“Hi, David.”

“Any news on the murder investigation?”

I smiled. David’s curiosity made my snooping a heck of a lot easier. “No, they’re being pretty tight-lipped about it.”

“Sorry. I thought you might have an ‘in.’”

“Yeah, that would be nice, but…”

“Officer Riggins is a professional.”

“Right.” I selected a candy bar and placed it on the checkout counter.

David rung me up. “I’ll bet you have a theory, though?” he asked hopefully.

“Not really. I don’t have enough to go on.”

“Well, I think theft may have been a motive.”

“Just a plain old mugging, gone wrong?”

“Maybe. At least the police seem to think it had something to do with theft.”

“Why do you say that?” David handed me my change and receipt, and I slipped them into my back pocket.
 

“Because they were going around asking everyone if anything was missing.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I thought people weren’t supposed to discuss that with each other.”

David gave me a look. “This is Bonney Bay. You’re new to small town life, right?”

I laughed. “Right. So, when did you guys realize the thermometer was missing?”

“How’d you know the meat thermometer was missing?”

I gave him a cheesy grin. “This is Bonney Bay, remember? Small-town life.”

David laughed. “Of course. It wasn’t gone until we were all done cooking the salmon. I used it myself several times. When we were cleaning up, I asked around for it. Everyone who’d brought their own things was separating them out, to make sure they took them home. I use that thing almost every day in the summer time, and I didn’t want to have to go out and get a new one.”

“And no one could find it.”

“Exactly.”

“Where did you keep it when you weren’t using it?”

“Right on the shelf attached to the end of the grill. But at some point, it rolled off. I saw it on the ground, and I thought I should pick it up and wash it off, but my hands were full. And then my neighbor Steve came over to say hello, and I forgot all about it. That’s the last I saw of my meat thermometer.”

“How strange.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it just got kicked off somewhere, some kid decided it would make a nice topper for a sand castle and it got washed away…anything like that would make more sense than someone stealing it. And I can’t figure out what my meat thermometer could possibly have to do with Dina Hermiston’s murder.”

That’s probably because you’re good guy. A guy who can’t imagine an elderly woman being stabbed to death with a meat thermometer.
I couldn’t say I’d ever imagined such a scenario myself.

“Maybe the murderer is a kleptomaniac,” I suggested.

“I guess you’d have to be in order to steal a dirty meat thermometer.”

I tried not to cringe at the image that put in my mind. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, I hope it was a mugging. Some drifter from out of town. I just want this case to be closed and the election settled, and things back to normal for Bonney Bay.”

“I don’t think you’re alone in that,” I said. Though I was starting to wonder if Bonney Bay’s “normal” had ever really been normal. Maybe things had really been screwed up for a very long time, and it was just now coming to the surface. “Hope you have a normal day, David.”

“Yeah, me too. Good-bye, Brenna.”

I picked up my candy bar and waved goodbye.

I drove back home and sat in my truck for a few minutes, eating chocolate and ruminating on the case. The fact that the thermometer had ended up on the ground was no help at all. At least, it wasn’t any help in narrowing the field of suspects. That murder weapon rolling around the ground just spread the circle of possible suspects wider than ever. I could just see someone striding through the grass, unwittingly kicking the thermometer and sending it rolling away. Who knows how far away from the grill it ended up? Or, someone could have picked it up and set it on one of the tables. If it was a kid, they might’ve even placed it on one of the food tables. Everyone had gone through those tables multiple times. Anyone could’ve grabbed it.

The cooks and their helpers still had the best opportunity, though, didn’t they? Except they also had knives readily available. A knife might be a little harder to slip into a pocket or a purse, and you could accidentally stick yourself with it. But it certainly was a more sensible weapon than a meat thermometer.

I had to figure out who Dina Hermiston had been arguing with. Was it Gunter Hatton again? Was Gunter’s alibi as solid as the police thought? Maybe it was, and she’d argued with someone else after Gunter. I recalled the argument I’d overheard. Was Dina heavily invested in this election, or had she just used that as leverage against Gunter? I’d gotten the impression she cared passionately about the outcome, but she’d hinted there was more. What was it she’d said?
It’s not just your campaign I’ll see ruined.
She wanted Gunter Hatton ruined. Why?

And had that second argument been about the election too, even if it had been with someone else?

I pulled my gi back on and bowed onto the mat, still tying my belt. The kids were in the middle of their customary post-lunch judo quiz.
 

“Sensei Brenna! Tell us a story!” Jacob called out.

We liked to have the kids do something a little less active while they digested their lunches. It helped minimize puking incidents, which were by far my least favorite part of being a grown-up looking after children. Plus, the kids got to learn some judo history, terminology, and other trivia. Sometimes they wheedled me into telling a judo story.
 

“Please, please!” the other kids chimed in.

“Alright, alright.” I kneeled down and they sat around me, legs crossed, just like we’d taught them. “Once upon a time, in a training camp far, far, away…there was a Latvian woman with the stinkiest judo gi ever to walk the planet. I know what you’re thinking. ‘Sensei Brenna, judo gis can’t walk.’ But I’m telling you, this one could. The force of funktification was strong with that one.”

The kids burst into laughter. They laughed so loud, I didn’t hear the bells on the door chime. I didn’t know anyone was there until—

“Hi there, ladies.”

That voice! I froze at the sound. It couldn’t be. Blythe made a faint, stifled squeak of horror. I turned around. It was him. Blond and tan and trim. Wearing his Team USA coach’s polo and track pants.

A weak sound escaped Blythe’s lips. “No.”

It was barely audible, but I knew she wanted to scream it. It couldn’t be Jake. Not here. Not now. The laughter died. The kids stared from us to Jake. And I swear,
The
Imperial March
played in my head.

10

“Sensei Brenna, who’s that?” Katie whispered.

How, exactly, could I answer that question? I might’ve said,
An old friend
, except he wasn’t a friend. Not anymore. “Someone I used to know,” I told Katie, “from Arizona.” I touched Blythe’s arm. “I’ll handle this.”

Blythe nodded and turned back to the kids. “Come on, everyone. Back to work.
O-goshi
, five times each.” As she put her hand on their backs to nudge them toward their partners and practice the judo throw, I saw her shake.

I took purposeful breaths, trying to slow down the pounding of my heart. The rage that was trying to claw its way out of the depths of me and up to the surface. I folded my arms and gave him a curt nod, and hated the fact that Jake knew my match face so well. I always felt safe behind that mask, but Jake had taught me how to put it on. He knew it was just a shield.

“Let’s talk outside, Jake.”

“What, no hello?” Jake was already at the matside, about to take off his shoes and waltz on. He actually had the nerve to look a little hurt that we weren’t welcoming him with open arms. You know, our least favorite person in the world, right in the middle of working with our day campers.

“No,” I said coldly.

He shrugged it off and followed me out the door—the back door. I didn’t want to get into it with him right in front of the studio.

Once we were standing in the parking lot behind the studio, he grinned. “Nice to see you, too, Brenna.”

I used to love that grin. Now, not so much. In fact, not at all. Let me tell you, Jake might be handsome, but he had nothing on Will Riggins’s smile.

“What are you doing here?” I said. “We’re kind of in the middle of something, in case you didn’t notice. Surprise, surprise, we have lives here, Jake.” I didn’t bother to ask why he didn’t call first. He actually had called, though he hadn’t attempted any contact in the last day or two. I hadn’t responded.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d have class during the day.”

“It’s a summer day camp.”

“Ahh. Judo babysitting, huh?”

“Actually, no. Those kids have learned a lot this summer.”

Jake held his hands up. “No offense.”

Yeah, right. Your face offends me, Jake
, the teenager in me wanted to say. “Why are you here, if it isn’t to offend me and Blythe in some way?” Whether he’d meant to make a jab at us or not, I knew he looked down on what we were doing here. He looked down on anything beneath top level judo.
 

“Touchy, touchy.”

“No, you’re the one who’s touchy-touchy. That’s why you and Blythe aren’t married anymore, remember? Just couldn’t stop touchy-touching, could you? What’s the matter? Bored with Mitzi already? Or did you get ditched this time?” Now there was a comforting thought! I found myself hoping Mitzi had left him for a young, professional baseball player or something along those lines. Now that would drive competitive Jake crazy.

“I’m here to do a judo seminar in Seattle. One of the judo clubs there brought me in. Budokai. I’m sure you’ve been up there to visit.”

“No,” I said cooly.

Jake looked genuinely surprised. I guess he figured I’d make my own little tour of all the dojos in the Northwest, going around and showing them who was boss. That’s probably what Jake would do. But I wasn’t Jake, and I didn’t want to meet the rest of the Northwest judo community as Brenna Battle, the Olympian. I wanted to get to know them as colleagues, as just another coach trying to get a new judo team off the ground.

I cocked my head at Jake. “If you’re here for a seminar in Seattle, then what are you doing here? Last I checked we’re South of the SeaTac Airport, and Seattle is North. I think you took a wrong turn somewhere, Jake.”

I turned at the sound of the back door slamming.

“Wouldn’t be the first time he took a wrong turn.”

“Blythe!” Jake said cheerfully, ignoring the insult.

Interesting. He was used to my attitude. He’d dealt with it for almost a decade, though he hadn’t typically been the target of my animosity until recent years. But Blythe? This was new. Even through the divorce proceedings, she’d been devastated, then taken a classy but stunned approach with him. It wasn’t until the day when it was finalized that she fell apart. And that was just with me.

“The kids are on a water break,” Blythe told me. Her hands shook as she tightened her judo belt, probably just so she’d have something to do with her hands…unless she was envisioning tightening them around Jake’s neck, like I was.

The kids really shouldn’t be left alone, but I could tell this was something my sister needed to do. She had that
I’m not going to take it anymore
look on her face. She was done being the victim and she was finally ready to tell that to Jake, face to face.

Jake was either still in denial, or pretending not to notice her anger in hopes that she’d give up on it. He said, “I flew into Portland. I did a seminar down there first. I’m headed North now. It’s a nice drive. I’ve never seen the Northwest coast.”

I glanced at Blythe, at the hard look of hatred smoldering in her eyes. Her lips were clenched tight. I was half curious what wanted to erupt out of them, and half scared to find out.
 

“Well, don’t let us keep you from your sightseeing,” I said. Maybe it was best if Jake just went away before my beautiful, refined sister transformed into something really ugly right before our eyes. From Disney princess to dragon queen villainess in eight seconds flat.

Jake turned away from Blythe, watching her warily out of the corner of his eye. “The thing is, Brenna. I was thinking, you know how I teach. Maybe you could come up with me and be my
uke
for the seminar. I’ll buy you lunch.”

Lunch? I love food, but not enough to let Jake buy me lunch. I wouldn’t even let him buy me fillet mignon or a mountain of cream-puffs, or genuine Italian lasagne. “You want me to be your dummy?” I said.
No, thanks.
I’d been Jake’s dummy one time too many. And I don’t mean on the mat. “You have a lot of nerve, Jake Fletcher.”

“Please, Brenna. Can’t we just put the past behind us for a day? I barely made it work in Portland without a good
uke
.”

“Oh, please,” Blythe said. “What does every other clinician do? I’ve never seen one travel with his own
uke
. You just want Brenna there because she’s your claim to fame. You just want to use her like you used me!”

Blythe burst into tears and lunged at Jake. I don’t know what she was going to do, but she stopped halfway through the motion. I certainly wasn’t about to stop her. She turned sharply and hurried up the stairs to our apartment, head down, Making little trying-not-to-cry sounds. She turned the knob, but of course the door was locked. We were really careful about that. And she didn’t have her keys in her judo gi.