by Diane Bator
Thayer cleared his throat and pulled out his handcuffs. "Taking him in for questioning. Turn around, Kane."
"You're handcuffing him?" Marion gasped. "Are you that afraid he'll mess up your pretty face?"
"There's always a first time." Kane snorted.
"Let's go, pretty boy." Thayer snapped one handcuff onto Kane's thick left wrist.
"I guess you won't be teaching class tonight." Mick sighed. "I'll get Razi to cover until you get back."
Kane pointed at Mick, pulling his right hand out of Thayer's grasp. "At least I'll be out of your hair tonight."
"If I have things my way, you'll be behind bars longer than one night," Thayer said. "With or without cuffs on."
"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you, mate? What's the charge?" Kane turned to face him. "Besides the murder charge you're trying to trump up against me."
Thayer grinned. "Assaulting a police officer."
"He hasn't touched you." When Marion stepped forward, Mick waved her back.
"Yet." Kane widened his stance, the cuffs still dangling from his left wrist. "Are you planning to provoke me, mate?"
Thayer shoved Kane's back against the wall. "Maybe you should just tell us the truth so I don't have to go through the hassle of cuffing you and hauling you into an interrogation room on a daily basis."
Mick squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't do anything stupid, Kane. Just let it go and cooperate before you get into worse trouble."
"Who? Me?" Kane met Gilda's gaze and raised both eyebrows. He seemed to consider the possibility for a few seconds before he lashed out his left hand and clubbed Thayer across the jaw, the handcuffs bouncing off Thayer's forehead. "Oops. Slipped."
Marion and Mick stared as Thayer crumpled to the floor in a groaning heap.
"Why'd you do that?" Gilda gasped. "He was kidding."
Fabio's entire body shook before he burst into laughter. "Serves him right. Thayer should know better than to say things like that to any of the guys who train here."
Kane nudged Thayer with his foot. "Get up, mate. I didn't hit you that hard."
Mick checked Thayer's pupils. "You knocked him out cold. You'd better hope he doesn't have a concussion and sue your sorry butt. Fabio, maybe you should send Thayer home for the rest of the day. Just make sure you take care of that cut over his eye from the handcuffs first."
"I'd help you get him out of here, mate," Kane said, "but he's got me half-cuffed. I guess you're on your own."
"I don't think so, mate." Fabio found Thayer's keys and took off the handcuffs. "You carry him to the station. I'll open the doors."
Kane stared him down then shrugged. "Only because it's you and you looked after Mick and Razi when they needed help. Just make sure you open those doors wide, I wouldn't want to hit him in the noggin or anything."
That said, Kane lifted Thayer to his feet with one arm around his back, and walked him straight into the doorjamb. "Oops, careful there, mate. Watch your head."
Marion laughed so hard she had to sit on a chair to catch her breath. "Now that was funny. You ready for lunch, Gilda? I think I need a big, juicy burger after that workout. I probably lost about ten pounds."
"I'm ready." She pushed in her chair and met Mick's gaze. "Do you want to join us or are you sticking around here?"
"Nah." He shrugged. "I think I'll go be a bug on the wall at the police station. Things there will be interesting. You ladies go and have some fun. Just stay out of trouble, okay?"
Gilda smiled. "Who? Us?"
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"I think we should go to that new Greek place on Armadillo." Marion gave a sly smile. "Isn't that near where Mena's new store supposedly is?"
Gilda nodded. "Yup, right next to the tattoo place. Do you think we should stop by to see what she's done with the place?"
"I think it would be very rude of us not to stop and say hello. Is that the one?" Marion led the way as though she'd been there before. "A black store front? Really? Why doesn't she at least make it stand out a little?"
"She did. She painted the inside purple."
Marion snorted. "Purple? Are you serious? That woman's nuttier than I thought. Please don't tell me she added glitter to the paint."
"Wait." Gilda grabbed Marion's arm and pulled her into the alcove doorway of a fabric shop. "Do you see what I see?"
In front of the Healing Spirit Gift Shop, Mena stood toe to toe with Gary del Garda, his face red and veins bulging out of his neck. Whatever was going on, he kept his voice low as he spoke and leaned toward her.
Apparently not intimidated, Mena scowled and tried to back away from him but ended up pressed against the wall of her store. She gave a quick glance up and down the street before she kneed him in the groin.
Gilda gasped then covered her mouth. "Did you see that?"
"Oh yeah." Marion chuckled. "Right on the money. I wonder what issue our local bookie has going on with the purple witch."
"Could be anything. Maybe she moved here to be his biggest competition."
Marion's eyes widened. "You think Mena could be a bookie? That's crazy. From everything I've seen, I'd say she's a hooker."
Gilda tried hard to keep from laughing. "Why would you say that?"
"The woman can't keep her hands off any man. I figure she's either a pickpocket or she's just trying to get a little action."
By the time Gilda peered at Gary and Mena again, Gary had shuffled away from the new store toward his car. Mena returned to her store, slamming the door behind her. Whatever issues Gary had, he left without much of a fight. Yet, the way he scowled as he stared straight ahead when he drove past spoke volumes. It seemed Mena had just declared war and Gary was primed for a fight.
"I say we skip chatting with the purple witch today," Gilda said.
"Self-preservation. Good choice." Marion cringed. "I don't have nuts, but even I felt that kick. Forget the Greek place. Let's just go to the deli before she sees us. After what I did to her in class, she'll do a lot more than kick me."
"Deal." Gilda made sure Mena was out of sight and the front door was still closed before she and Marion darted back toward the deli for sandwiches. They took seats near the front window, close to a couple of male students Gilda recognized from the martial arts school. One had a red ball cap on; the other wore a blue shirt. Both were jiu jitsu students who trained with Mick and Razi. Neither man seemed to notice her.
"Did you catch any of the fights at the Phoenix grand opening?" the man with the red cap asked his friend.
"Yeah, that was crazy about the referee being killed."
He slurped from a glass of beer. "From what I hear, the guy was a world class jerk and totally deserved what he got."
"Charlie Hunt?" the other man asked. "I thought he was a first-class coach and all that."
"He was. Coach, referee, and drug pusher. Rumor has it his fighters had to do everything he wanted, including juicing and 'taking care' of other fighters when he was done with them."
Taking care of the other fighters? A shiver ran down Gilda's back. She'd seen enough gangster movies to figure out what he meant. If Charlie had known about Kane's violent past, what had he forced Kane to do?
"You think he'd kill off the guys who are making him piles of money?" The man in blue asked.
"That's just what I heard."
"What can I getcha?" Their waitress appeared next to Gilda. A fresh-faced high school girl, she snapped a wad of gum while clicking a pen in one hand and tapping her foot as she waited.
Marion frowned. "How about lose the gum and find us two menus?"
"Yeah. Whatever." The girl turned away, grabbed two plastic coated menus off the counter, and tossed them on the table. "I'll be right back. Take your time."
"Lucky us," Marion snorted. "I hope she doesn't expect a tip."
Gilda leaned back slightly, hoping to hear what more the men had to say. They talked about Charlie's habit of getting his fighters hooked on drugs, steroids in particular, to the point they fought so hard th
ey burned themselves out then they disappeared.
Gilda leaned over the table toward Marion. "Aren't steroids the drugs bodybuilders take to make their muscles huge?"
"Yeah." Marion flipped open a menu. "Then they become crazy and can get 'roid rage. You know, I seriously think Kane's one of those guys who got hooked."
Gilda frowned. That fit with Razi's story. "Why would you think that?"
"You're the one who said the guy's a lunatic. That would explain him swinging swords on the beach and his weird behavior, wouldn't it?"
"It would." She stared at the menu, without actually seeing the words. "Razi says Charlie got Kane hooked. Do you think that's possible?"
Marion raised her eyebrows. "Do you really doubt what Razi says? I heard they trained together for years."
She didn't bother to tell Marion what else Razi or Kane had already told her. Her gut churning, she ordered the soup of the day.
After lunch, Marion headed to work.
Left with no chaperone to steer her back to Mick's condo, Gilda returned home, where she could be alone to think. She put on a CD of relaxation music then sat cross-legged on the floor. Despite all that had happened, this was still her home. Her sanctuary. Thinking about Kane and his antics had aggravated her so much she blew out a long breath until her entire body seemed to cave in. She drew in another deep breath and sat up straight again.
What was it about Kane Garrick that kept her on edge? Was it something behind that smarmy smile or the way he looked at her as if she was one of his post workout protein shakes? She shook off all her negative thoughts of Kane and focused on the music.
Kane had come by her house a great deal lately. He'd known Charlie for years, probably knew his secrets and fears. Did he know what, if anything, Charlie had hidden in his grandma's former house? Maybe he even knew about the key Charlie had worn hidden in the necklace and what it might unlock. The same key she kept forgetting to hand over to Fabio.
Her eyes snapped open.
She was positive she and Marion had searched and scoured every inch of Margaret Palmer's former home. There had to be something they'd found two years ago that seemed insignificant at the time.
Neither Mick nor Razi had invited Charlie to the Phoenix tournament as a referee, yet he'd accepted the counterfeit invitation, putting both men in a tight spot. If Charlie had been sent a fake invitation, had Gomes and Sanchez received a similar letter from the same person?
Gilda stared at the unlit candle in front of her. If Mick and Razi were convinced Kane sent the invitation, that would explain their hostility toward him. "But why would he? Kane had more reason to hate Charlie than anyone."
Unless he'd planned to lure Charlie to Sandstone Cove to kill him all along.
A shiver ran across Gilda's back. She sucked in a shaky breath and forced her shoulders down away from her ears.
Too many questions remained unanswered, mostly because none of the fighters were talking to her or the police. Uncovering a murder plot would certainly be a good reason to fear Kane Garrick, but how would she prove his guilt? Or anyone else's, for that matter.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After the last class of the night, Gilda dropped onto the couch in the staff lounge next to Mick. He'd sat in front of the television for hours that evening watching fight videos, but she hadn't had idle time or enough curiosity to peek in on him.
"Hey, what are you watching?"
"One of the reasons I no longer work with Charlie Hunt." His expression remained somber and his gaze never left the television screen.
She curled into the corner of the couch. "You didn't like him because of a video?"
"No, I lost respect for him because of a fight." Mick released a long, slow breath. "In one minute and thirteen seconds, Kane gets his jaw shattered. He's fighting Rico Gomes, who was a dirty fighter out of Vegas before Charlie straightened him out."
"The same Gomes who was here to fight Kane at the grand opening?"
"Yup." His attention still on the television, Mick held up a finger for her to wait. "And…now."
Kane lunged in toward Gomes, his front fist guarding his face while he threw a straight reverse punch. In an instant, Gomes grabbed the back of Kane's head and kneed him in the face.
Gilda jolted forward and gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.
Mick paused the video on an image of Charlie Hunt at the side of the ring. Rather than appearing outraged and clamoring into the ring to check on his fighter, Charlie wore an ugly smirk while he stood to one side with his arms folded. One of the men from Gomes' corner leaned into him, pointing toward the ring.
Gilda had seen the other man before too. Sanchez. As Mick restarted the video to show Kane writhing in pain on the floor of the octagon, she sat back and caught her breath. She studied Mick's face in the dim light. "Were you there that night?"
"I was in Kane's corner." His voice crackled with raw emotion. "I held ice to his jaw and kept the pieces in place until we got him to the hospital. They gave him so many painkillers that night he could've gone ten more rounds and never felt a hit."
She hugged her stomach. "Is that when he and Charlie parted ways?"
"Oh yeah." Mick nodded. "Kane couldn't talk, but he certainly got his point across. He threw Charlie off a second story balcony a week later."
"Which is why the police were quick to grab him before he could skip town," she said. As a chill settled over her, Gilda nestled against Mick for warmth. "So why invite Charlie to referee Kane and Gomes in the tournament? Were you hoping they'd make up and everyone would live happily ever after?"
His jaw tightened. "Charlie called to say he got a letter from me to personally invite him to referee at the grand opening." He hesitated. "Since I didn't invite him, it makes me wonder who might have wanted him here and why."
"I guess that could depend on when he got the formal invitation," she said. "Kane and Mena weren't even in town until right before the opening. Were they?"
Mick shook his head. "No, and Razi's been with me day and night while we pulled this place together. He might have had access to the letterhead, but his written English isn't so good, even with spell check. Kane has the biggest motive of everyone, which is why the cops keep babysitting him, but he and Mena only got here a few days before the opening."
She frowned. "True, but Kane's the only person who hasn't tried to hide his past. It's all over the Internet where anyone can find it. While he has a lot of reasons to want Charlie dead, so does Mena."
He sat back and met her gaze. "Why Mena? Just because you don't like her?"
"No." Gilda's face burned. "Because she was all over Charlie when he first arrived and he didn't seem happy to see her. Besides, Kane keeps calling her a stalker."
Mick smirked. "And you just don't like her. I don't think she'd kill Charlie. She has other ways of getting even with the men who cross her. None of which, by the way, involve lethal weapons."
"Oh." Gilda sighed then raised her eyebrows. "Oh, wow. Sounds like you had a bad experience of your own with her."
"Let's just say I was young and foolish once." He grimaced. "Just once."
She forced a smile. "What about Sanchez? I know he was in Gomes' corner at that fight, I saw him in the video."
"Good eye, Sherlock." Mick turned off the television, then pulled her close and draped his arm around her shoulders. He let out a long, slow breath. "Sanchez left the party at Razi's early. Chances are if Charlie stabbed one of his own fighters in the back, he wouldn't hesitate to screw with a trainer like Sanchez who'd be more than happy to return the favor."
"Or Gomes." Kane filled the doorway and ran a hand through his thick, disheveled hair. "Once a dirty fighter, always a dirty fighter. With all the confusion and contractors in the new school, anyone could've snuck in and got hold of some letterhead."
Mick nodded. "Or made their own. Sanchez is a graphic designer by trade. It'd be nothing for him to make a fake letterhead."
"Or Mena," Kane said. "She's be
en working on her own stuff for this so-called store she's setting up. It would be a snap for her. She's good at faking a lot of things."
Gilda flashed a smile. "Did Thayer give you a day pass?"
He rolled his eyes as he turned an old wooden chair around and straddled it backward. "Not exactly. He wanted to charge me with assaulting an officer and obstruction of justice."
"Don't tell me you escaped already," Mick groaned. "You know what kind of trouble that'll get you."
"Relax, Mick, he didn't escape." Fabio limped into the lounge. "I need him here at the school to stir up some trouble."
"I'm sure that'll be easy enough." Gilda's shoulders sagged. "So now you don't think he killed Charlie?"
Fabio snorted. "Not after Thayer interrogated him. Anyone else would've snapped and tried to bash Thayer's face in again. Kane just sat there and grinned."
"But he already knocked Thayer's lights out before the interrogation," she said.
"Just not in front of the cameras, and I didn't leave any bruising. Just a cut from the handcuffs." Kane winked. "The way the prosecutor sees it, I have the patience of a saint, and it would've taken hours for Charlie to provoke me."
Or years. Gilda glanced at the dark television screen. "So where does that leave us?"
"I'm taking a closer look at your friends Gomes and Sanchez," Fabio said.
"What about Charlie's bodyguard?" she asked.
Fabio's gaze flickered to Mick then he shrugged. "The guy's a ghost. I haven't seen him anywhere around town, nor did I find much information about him."
Gilda frowned. "Who is he? Do you at least have a name?"
"No, that's the first thing I need to find out." When Fabio turned to walk away she was sure his jaw twitched. Why lie to her now?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gilda had slipped out of the school while Mick and Kane chatted. She hoped she'd be home with the doors locked, drinking a glass of wine before either man noticed she was gone.
As she walked through the warm, peaceful night toward her cozy little house, a chill sliced through her. Maybe taking a few clothes and heading over to Marion's house was a good idea. Suddenly staying in her little house alone didn't seem so comforting.
