Hardheaded Brunette

by Diane Bator

  "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.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  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.

  The police had searched her backyard with blinding spotlights and found nothing but the shovel, a couple footprints, and some broken plants. Whoever had dropped the shovel on the deck took off before the officers arrived. Thayer had lectured her for twenty minutes about getting out of the house to somewhere safe.

  Gilda was just glad no one tried to break inside this time. Still, she had a lot of explaining to do about why she was still in the house that night alone. Rather than leave, Thayer threatened to sit on her front porch for the rest of the night to stand guard. It surprised her to see no sign of Gary.r />
  She rolled out of bed and made a quarter pot of coffee before rummaging through the freezer for any sign of bread or bagels for breakfast. Nothing. With a sigh, she popped a couple iffy raspberries into her mouth and poured a cup of French vanilla coffee.

  Gilda clutched her cup in one hand then moved aside the curtain overlooking her front porch. Thayer lay sprawled in the porch swing sound asleep. She crept out the back door. As she stepped out into the fresh morning, she shivered and tugged her robe closer. Since the grass was too wet and chilly to walk across barefoot so early today, she found a spot in the sun to keep warm. Her gaze drifted over her fall flowers, then fell on a black overnight bag sitting in the middle of a patch of fiery mums.

  "That wasn't there last night," she muttered. If it had been, surely the police would have called in the bomb squad without a second thought, and she'd be in a hotel or at Marion's.

  A small part of her itched to set the coffee cup to one side and see what was in the bag. After two break-ins, her more rational, logical side refused to debate the issue. She stepped back into the house to dial 9-1-1, then remembered Thayer.

  She dressed in a hurry, leaving the sling on her dresser, then grabbed her phone before she ran out the front door and shook Thayer. "Get up."

  He snorted, arms and legs flailing as he nearly fell off the swing. "What's going on?"

  "Someone was in my backyard. They left a black bag."

  "Get out of here," Thayer said, shoving her toward the sidewalk. "I'll call Fabio."

  Before she'd even reached her front gate, Gary flew out of his car and across the street. "You're up early this morning. What's going on?"

  The sudden silence was deafening. Gilda blew out the breath she'd been holding for so long she was dizzy. "Someone left a black overnight bag in my backyard."

  Gary's mouth twitched as he stared for a heartbeat then pushed past her. "I'll take care of it. Go wait in my car."

  She grabbed his arm. "Thayer already went back there. After all that's happened lately, it could be a bomb. Thayer said he'd call for backup. They should be on their way."

  "Who do you think left it?" He draped an arm around her to walk her to his Buick.

  Gilda welcomed his warmth and hugged her purse to her chest before she realized she'd abandoned her coffee mug alongside the sling on her dresser. Tears welled in her eyes. Her dad had given her that coffee cup for her birthday before he'd been killed. Now it might be blown to smithereens.

  "Gilda?" Gary cradled her face in his hands. He was so much like her father. The similarities frightened her. "I think you need to sit down. You look a little pale."

  The fake fur blanket was warm and comforting. Gary helped her drape the thick fabric around her shoulders before he forced her to sit in the front passenger seat of his car. The scent of stale coffee and faint cigarette smoke greeted her.

  "Don't you ever sleep?" she asked as sirens wailed up the street.

  Gary nodded. "I do, actually. I have several trustworthy associates who spell me so I can attend to my business."

  "So where were your associates last night when the police were here?"

  He merely smiled. "Around. I talked to Fabio later and knew you were in good hands with Thayer here. I thought we all agreed you were not supposed to be in your house alone."

  "Yeah. About that. Marion fell asleep and Mick was busy. I didn't really want to disturb anyone else." Gilda shivered. "Did your associates see anything odd last night?"

  "No." He frowned. "Whoever left the bag in your yard must have come in from the beach side. Since they've targeted your house and were getting in through your front door before, I never thought to post anyone back there." He paused. "Don't worry, I will now."

  She glanced behind the vehicle as two police cars pulled up.

  "Gilda?" Thayer ran around from behind her house. "Gilda, where are you?"

  Fabio climbed out of the car and gave a sharp whistle. "She's with Gary."

  Thayer stopped, grimacing as he ran toward them.

  Fabio leaned one hand on the hood of Gary's car and blew out a sigh. "I'm glad you're okay. Where's the bomb?"

  "I don't actually know if it's a bomb," Gilda said. "I just found a black overnight bag in my backyard. Considering all the break-ins lately, I didn't want to take any chances."

  Fabio nodded. "Good call. Did you let Mick know yet?"

  "No." She hugged the blanket tighter around her. "I woke up Thayer, who called you guys while I got out of the house. Gary was already here."

  "Was he? Well, that's interesting," Fabio mused.

  Gary scowled. "The perp must have come in from the beach side."

  "Wow, suddenly you sound like a cop instead of a robber." Thayer folded his arms. "It's a good thing you didn't call Mick. Wherever he goes, his pal Kane shows up to cause even more problems. The less people in the way, the better."

  Fabio reached through the open window to pat Gilda's shoulder. "Sit tight, honey. We'll take care of things. I think you should call Marion and tell her you need a place to stay for a while. I don't want you in this house until we catch this clown."

  "You don't think it's really a bomb, do you?" she asked.

  "No, but I'm tired of worrying about you." Fabio hesitated. "I'd prefer you to be far away from this house and whoever is causing all the problems. You really need to find somewhere safe to stay for a while."

  "I have a safe house you're welcome to use." Gary glanced over. "At least it's near the lake, so you'll feel right at home."

  Gilda winced. "Thanks, but…"

  Thayer waited until Fabio walked away to speak to the other officers before he crouched next to Gilda's window. "You're welcome to stay with me. I'm hardly at my apartment anyway, and no one would bother you there."

  She stared. "After all that's happened between us, you're offering me a place to stay? What are you up to?"

  "Nothing." He shrugged.

  "No ulterior motives?"

  "Well…" he said then grinned. "Nope. Cross my heart. I'd be a true gentleman. As crazy as it sounds, I do still care for you, Gilda, and I don't like all this stuff that keeps happening any more than anyone else in town does. I'm just trying to give you an option."

  She remained wary. "Thanks. That's actually very nice of you."

  When Thayer ran off to join the other officers, Gary turned to watch him cross the street. "Well, that was creepy."

  "You're telling me."

  Mick's yellow Ferrari passed the Buick and parked farther up the street, just as the police cordoned off the street. Mick climbed out and carried over a tray filled with paper coffee cups. "Gary. Gilda. I picked up coffees expecting to stop by and talk to both of you, plus Marion, this morning. Instead, I find several police cars, a roadblock being set up, and you two sitting here in the middle of everything. So, what's going on today?"

  Gary took his coffee and sat back. "Gilda found a black overnight bag in her backyard. The cops called in the bomb squad."

  "That's just great." Mick stared, blinking several times. "Gilda, honey, I think it's time you pack your bags and move into my place before things gets even worse."

  "That's what we've all been trying to tell her," Gary said. "We've made a long list of safe places for her to go. Even Thayer offered her a place to stay."

  "Thayer?" Mick turned away laughing then grew serious. "That's it. Are you coming to my house or should I call Marion?" He closed his eyes. "Where is Marion, by the way?"

  "I left her asleep at her place last night." Her shoulders sagged. "Mick, I don't want to go anywhere. This is my house. I want to stay here."

  Gary rubbed her arm. "Honey, you're in shock and not thinking straight."

  "You don't have a choice anymore." Mick raised his voice. "Gilda, someone is escalating things. They've broken in to search your house twice. Now they've left a bag in your backyard that could have a bomb inside. What more does someone have to do before you take this seriously?"

  Gilda frowned. "I don't know. I ju
st keep thinking this is all a big mistake. Maybe they have the wrong house or are after something Charlie left behind that isn't even here anymore. Eventually they'll get the hint, right?"

  Mick and Gary exchanged glances.

  She winced. "Right?"

  "I'll tell Thayer I'm getting you out of here." Mick turned to walk away.

  "Fine. I'll go inside, get my things, and we can go to your place." Gilda got out of the Buick and ran around the back of the car to meet him. "What if it's a false alarm like the shovel last night?"

  "Shovel?" Mick flared his nostrils and bowed his head. "I don't even want to ask about the shovel. What if there is a bomb and your house blows sky high? What will you do then?"

  "I guess I'll have to go shopping." Her lower lip quivered as she blinked away tears.

  "I'm sorry, babe." He pulled her into a hug. "Don't cry, Sherlock. We'll get this guy. I just don't want to lose you in the process."

  She collapsed into his arms sobbing, suddenly unable to speak. His warmth and strength were the only things that kept her from completely losing her mind. He was right, she'd feel much safer at his condo.

  Fabio waved from her gate. "Get back to your vehicles. Once the bomb squad clears the contents of the bag, you'll be free to return."

  "That's fine." Mick nodded. "Call us when we can get her things. We'll be at my place."

  "Good idea." Fabio gave Gilda a nod. "Take Gary with you. Not that I'd miss him, but I wouldn't want to see him blown up either."

  Mick buckled Gilda in the Ferrari then told Gary to follow as he drove to his condo around the far side of Ponderer's Point in the newer part of Sandstone Cove.

  While the two men chatted over fresh coffee, Gilda sat on the balcony overlooking Lake Erie with the furry blanket still firm around her shoulders and the breeze in her rumpled hair. She could see the tiny dot that was her house across the bay and was glad there'd been no explosions so far. Tears ebbed and flowed as she sipped hot, Irish cream laced coffee from a large red mug, hugging the cup to her chest between sips. Mick had lived in this building for years and it always made her smile knowing he could see her house from his balcony.