by Diane Bator
Mick frowned. “You keep saying that. Do you really think Yoshida would steal from his own school? I think it would have to be someone who has no idea how good you are at tracking inventory.”
Until lately. “All he has to do is walk in and take a few things. No one would think twice about stopping him.”
“Do you know how long it took Yoshida to arrange my candles?” He waved to the wall behind her where a pyramid of five yellow meditation candles stood on a narrow shelf by her head. “Ten minutes. He used that ruler to space them exactly an inch and a half apart like it was its own meditation. When we opened, everything in this school had to be placed just so. Pictures had to be hung certain distances apart. Things needed to be clustered in fives. He’d lose his cool if they weren’t. If they’re moved when someone cleans, he notices.”
“Maybe he’s obsessive-compulsive.” Gilda leaped from her chair and returned to her computer to figure out the significance of the number five to a Japanese martial artist. The four possessions she understood. The number five was a mystery.
“What did I say this time?” Mick followed her to her desk. “Was it about the stacks of five? Maybe he’s OCD, like you said.”
“That would explain a lot, wouldn’t it? I thought it was just because of all his training,” she said. “Is there something about the significance of fives in karate?”
Mick moved around her desk. “No idea. Can you look it up?”
Before he crouched beside her, she’d pulled up a website and summarized. “OCD. A personality disorder. Control. Perfectionism at the expense of relationships. Preoccupied with details and rules. Stubborn, self-righteous, uncooperative. Unable to complete tasks due to their desire for perfection.”
“That’s Yoshida in a nutshell.” He grimaced. “Do you think he’s capable of setting someone up to go to jail just to take a few things that already belong to him?”
“Capable? Yes.” She glanced over at him. “But why bother? Like I said, he could just walk in and take what he wanted. He owns the place.”
Mick moved around to the chair beside her. “As long as he told you first.”
She scowled. “Like I’d yell at him. He’s scary.”
“Well, you yell at me.” He coiled a strand of her hair around his finger. “Aren’t I scary?”
Gilda bit her lower lip. Mick scared her on so many levels she didn’t know where to start. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. You like me.”
“You’re my boss. It helps.” Her face grew so hot she probably could have pressed linen with her cheeks. “What are you going to do about Yoshida?”
“Ignore him.” Mick leaned so close his cheek brushed hers. “I think that’s my best option. He’s too stubborn to compromise. I’ll wait until he brings it up again.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Gilda asked.
“Then I’ll assume he has a split personality and run for the hills.” He pulled up the calendar icon in the corner of the screen.
“Sounds reasonable enough for now.” She sighed. “You surf the net. I’m going home.”
“I have a thought,” he said. “There might be something to this whole five thing. Isn’t Friday the fifth day of the week?”
A chill ran down Gilda’s back. “If you consider Monday the beginning of the week, then yes. That means the murders happening on Fridays is no coincidence.”
“Which also means if he’s following the list of the four possessions we have an idea when someone else might die and why. Sort of.”
“Told you I hated Fridays.” She blew out a long, slow breath and stared at the next Friday on the calendar. “Does this mean we have new evidence for Fabio? Maybe we should call Fabio to let him know about the missing merchandise.”
“Not yet,” Mick said. “Let’s talk to Razi and Xavier first. Maybe they know more than they’ve been saying. I’ll call Fabio later.”
“When do we do that?”
“We don’t. I’ll arrange a meeting. You’re taking time off.”
Gilda wanted to give him a hug and make all the scary thoughts disappear, but she had a feeling the fear wouldn’t end anytime soon. Not until the killer was caught. “What do you want me to do in the meantime?”
“Keep your eyes and ears open.” He took her hand as he turned to face her. “And if you see Yoshida, run and hide.”
Chapter 26
Some instructor meetings Gilda never even found out about until later. This one Mick not only invited her to but personally walked her down the street at eight that night. They walked quickly past the karate school and Ponderer’s Point toward the far end of town, where magnificent brick homes overlooked the lake.
“What exactly is going on?” She padded beside him in her rattan flip-flops, a beach towel draped around her neck.
“Black belt meeting.” Brusque and vague, just as when he called an hour after he’d sent her home from the school. He said he’d spoken to Fabio and Thayer about the missing merchandise but hadn’t said what they planned to do.
“Wearing bathing suits?” She laughed. “Besides, I’m not even a black belt.”
Mick shrugged. “Call it a staff meeting then.”
She stopped, sweaty, and tired of matching his brisk pace. “Hey, you called me, pal, so stop being snippy. Are we late or can we slow down before I lose my flip-flops?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m a bit distracted.”
“I’ll bet you are. Meetings with Thayer tend to disorient me too, but that doesn’t make me walk any faster.” She caught up to him and they resumed up the Street. “Do you mind telling me where we’re going for this so-called staff meeting?”
“Razi’s. We need to sort out a few things.” He lowered his voice. “Like who I can trust and what we should do next.”
“You still don’t trust me, do you?”
He draped his arm across her shoulder. “Honey, you’re the only one I know I can trust, which is why you’re with me.”
“Kind of like a sidekick?” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
“If that makes you happy.” Mick smiled and gave her a squeeze.
Gilda shrugged. “I can live with it.”
Razi’s plain white bungalow with dark green shutters stood at the edge of the cliff along the shoreline. Rather than approach the front door, Mick led her to a side gate through a jungle of lush rhododendrons and ferns. They emerged in a backyard lined with flagstones that surrounded a stone barbecue and hot tub. Flat stones dotted a line to the far end of the yard.
“Whoa. This place is amazing.” Gilda took a step back.
Colored solar lights came on around the yard and twinkled like delicate fairies. She never knew Razi was such a devoted gardener or entertainer. If the guys had meetings or parties here, she’d never heard about them.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” Razi bowed before them. “I am glad you could join us, Miss Wright.”
Xavier stood next to a lounge chair. A towel hung around his neck and he clutched a beer bottle in one hand. “What’s she doing here? This is a black belt meeting.”
“Under the circumstances,” Mick said, “it seemed like a good idea she was here.”
“Why? No one’s hunting nosy receptionists yet that I’ve heard.” Xavier scoffed.
Gilda hung back in the shadows, her arms crossed over her belly. If any of the men made a move toward her, she’d make a run for the iron garden gate. They might be stronger and faster, but she was smaller and could duck beneath the foliage. The men would have to fight their way through the leaves.
“Leave her alone. This affects her as much as it does us. We need to stick together and protect each other,” Mick slid his arm across her back.
“He’s always a jackass after a couple drinks. Give him one more and he’ll morph into a pussycat.”
“What happens after four drinks?” she asked.
Mick grinned. “He’ll either do anything we want or pass out.”
“Great.” She
stepped back behind the gate. “This is a bad idea. There’s three of you and one of me. Throw in a hot tub and alcohol and those aren’t great odds. Xavier was right. Maybe I should leave.”
“None of us would ever hurt you.” He followed her into the shadows and slipped both arms around her. “If you want to leave, I’ll take you home. If you stay, I’ll make sure these guys behave.”
“And you?” When she met his gaze, she instantly regretted the surge of heat that shot through her body.
“Especially me.” Mick ran a finger across her jaw. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Yes.” Gilda hoped that was true. She let him pull her back into the yard toward the hot tub. Currently, she had a problem trusting anyone.
“Seems the gang’s all here.” Xavier cracked open another bottle. “Why don’t you be a gracious host and tell us why?”
Razi opened a grapefruit-flavored cooler and handed it to Gilda. “Yes, Sensei Mick, tell us why we are here.”
“After all that’s gone on lately, I figured we needed to relax and give each other some moral support.” Mick sat back in the hot tub.
“That’s it?” Xavier asked.
“That’s it,” Mick said. “No ulterior motives.”
Gilda narrowed her eyes. What about Yoshida’s visit about the missing merchandise?
“Good call.” Xavier sipped his beer. His shoulders sagged. “Do the cops have any idea what’s going on?”
“None they’re sharing with me.” Mick opened a beer and raised it over the water. “To our fallen brothers. May their justice be swift and sure.”
“Cheers.” Xavier clinked his bottle against Mick’s.
“To Walter and Erik.” Gilda joined them.
“Le’chayim. To life.” Razi clinked his bottle against each of theirs. They drank and sat in silence. “What is going on? I have heard rumors at Happy Harvey’s Hangover Hut and at Café Beanz. Is it true someone has stolen merchandise as well as killed our comrades?”
Mick stiffened and glanced at Gilda. She shrugged and shook her head.
“Well, it wasn’t me.” Xavier sat back in the swirling water. His gaze fell on Gilda. “And nobody better dare say it was.”
“Relax. Nobody did,” Mick said. “There’s no evidence against anyone.”
Razi’s dark eyes focused on Gilda. “Mick and I were not sure what beverages you liked. This was Happy’s suggestion. He said we should take good care of you or else. Is there something you think we should know?”
“He and I are old friends,” she said. “When my parents moved to Erie, Happy took me under his wing, not that I go to his store often. I don’t drink much.”
“Neither do the rest of us,” Mick assured her, “but this last week’s been tough. We all need to stick together and protect each other.”
“Two black belts killed inside our dojo in one week. One with a katana, the other with poisoned ninja stars.” Xavier said. “Kind of feels like someone’s out to get us, doesn’t it? With no real pattern, how do we know who’s next?”
Gilda blew out a breath. “Maybe nobody’s next. Maybe somebody had something against both Walter and Erik.”
She could mention the missing scroll and her theories about the kanji she and Mick found. Instead, she sat back and listened, hoping to hear something she didn’t already know.
“We all know the scroll containing the Four Possessions of the Samurai went missing from the change room,” Razi said.
Mick paused, his beer bottle midway to his mouth. “Did Gilda point that out?”
“No.” Razi frowned. “I noticed when I replaced the mats. When did you notice the scroll missing, Miss Wright?”
She bowed her head. “Not until after the police left the day Walter died.”
“And you did not say anything?” Razi’s face hardened.
“I told her not to. She also found something else.” Mick was about to throw her to the wolves. Was this a test of her loyalty or was he honestly trying to draw out more information?
“What?” Xavier narrowed his eyes.
“A ring,” she said. “A goju ring.”
He frowned. “As far as I know, I’m the only one in the school who has one. It’s gold and has been missing for weeks. Do you still have it?”
She glanced at Mick, who nodded. “I gave it to Fabio.”
“Was it missing for several weeks?” Mick asked. “Or just since Walter died?”
“I don’t have to take this.” Xavier stood and leaned on the edge of the hot tub. “You’ve never liked me. That’s no secret. All of you can just go—”
“That is enough.” Razi stuck out an arm to stop him from getting out. “Xavier is not the only one with such a ring. Shihan Yoshida has one as well.”
“There are two rings?” Gilda asked.
“Mine was a gift from my ex-wife.” Xavier polished off his drink. “She ran off with a mechanic from Louie’s Garage. The ungrateful cow had no idea about the great opportunities coming my way.”
Gilda hoped the pussycat side of him would eke out soon.
Razi rolled his eyes. “I think you have had enough to drink, Xavier. Perhaps water would be a better idea.”
“Hell, no. I want another beer then we can get down to some serious relaxing.” Xavier struggled out of the hot tub and missed the steps. He fell out of her sight, landing on the stone patio below with a sickening crunch.
“I will take care of him.” Razi jumped up. He hoisted Xavier off the rocks like he was little more than a watermelon and carried him toward the white bungalow.
“I’ll give you a hand.” When Mick stood to help, Razi waved him off. Mick sat back, close to Gilda. “I forgot about Yoshida’s ring.”
“Yoshida never wore his ring to the school, did he?” She sipped her cooler.
“No, but I saw it at a couple banquets and tournaments,” he said. “I wanted to get one, but he’d never tell me where he got his.”
The drink made her giddy as their arms touched beneath the water. “Maybe from the Secret Order of the Goju Water Buffaloes.”
He burst into laughter. “Great. We give you one cooler and suddenly you’re making bad Flintstone jokes and giggling. Have you always been such a cheap date?”
“Correction.” She held up her bottle. “Half a cooler.”
“Even better.” He winked. “I should see how Xavier’s doing. I hope he’s not badly hurt.”
Gilda didn’t relish the idea of sitting in Razi’s hot tub with or without Mick. The murderer could be hiding in the bushes waiting for the right moment to ambush whoever was alone.
Mick touched her chin with his knuckle. “You okay?”
She flinched. “I guess I’m more spooked than I thought. I’m afraid the killer might be lurking in the shadows.”
When the patio door opened, Xavier limped out of the house with a large white bandage around his right leg. He fell onto a nearby lounge chair. “Somebody grab me a beer.”
“No ambulance required.” Razi handed everyone except Xavier a fresh drink before he climbed back into the water. “He tore some skin and has a bruise.”
“I’m fine. Thank you. Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive.” Xavier waved a hand. He droned on and on about how no one cared what happened to him and how he’d be better off if someone put him out of his misery.
Gilda, more uncomfortable than ever, wished Mick had let her leave when she wanted. She shot him a nervous glance.
Mick rolled his eyes and dropped his head back onto the edge of the tub. “Beer number five. Let’s hope they kick in and he passes out soon.”
“Which is why we usually meet for coffee,” Razi said.
“Is Xavier an alcoholic?” Gilda gasped. “He was drinking when he tried to poison us, wasn’t he? That’s why you never pressed charges.”
“Partly.” Mick lowered his gaze. “He’s been having a lot of problems lately. We called this meeting to make sure he wasn’t alone and doing anything stupid.”
“So you not on
ly lied to me, you tricked me,” she said.
He shrugged. “Technically.”
“That figures.” Gilda stepped out onto the textured stone deck and glared at both Razi and Mick. “I’m going home. You’re despicable.”
“Sherlock, no. Please, don’t leave.” Mick followed her across the yard. He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “At least let me walk you home.”
“Why?” She backed away. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Everybody knows me and loves me. I’m not in danger anyway, you said so yourself. Why should I worry, aside from the fact Xavier tried to poison me and Yoshida wants to maim me?”
Razi opened his mouth then closed it as he kept a watchful eye on them from the hot tub.
She wrapped her towel around her hips. “Besides, like Xavier said, no one’s hunting receptionists. Just black belts.”
“You work for me,” Mick said. “That alone makes you a target.”
“Oh yeah? What happened to me being too nice and naive to be a target?” she asked.
Mick grabbed his T-shirt and towel. “I’m taking Gilda home. I’ll be back.”
Razi raised his bottle and winked. “Take your time.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll be fine without a bodyguard.” Gilda stomped through the foliage.
“At least leave your drink here.” Mick chased her through the shrubs and grabbed her hand. “We don’t want to give Thayer a legitimate reason to throw you in jail.”
“Seriously?” She turned on him. “With everything going on, you’re worried Thayer will throw me in jail over a drink?”
He pulled her back through the greenery then set both their bottles around the corner. He dropped his arm across Gilda’s shoulders. “You, my dear, are enough to make a man drink some days. Most days, actually.”
“I know more about you than most people, so don’t blame the drinking on me.” She shoved through the rhododendrons. “How long have you known Xavier’s an alcoholic?”
“About a year. I’ve tried to get him help, but he keeps sliding back,” he said. “He’s never come to the school drunk or I’d kick him out. I should have kicked him out a long time ago.”
“You think? It’s no worse than covering up Walter’s past.” She snorted then turned to face him. “No, actually, they’re both really bad. What were you thinking?”
