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

by Laney Monday

  Will leaned in behind me a nuzzled my neck. “I’m glad you didn’t move to Istanbul.”

  We got a little carried away, expressing just how glad we were that the two of us were here, together.

  Will kissed me one more time, then pulled back and said, “So why was he here? Trying to get her back?”

  I turned away so he couldn’t read my face. Was Jake trying to get back with Blythe? Or was he trying to get back in my good graces? Or just mess with us? But that was the thing. Jake didn’t really do that. Mess with people just to mess with them. That wasn’t his style.

  “I don’t know,” I said. I caught a look at Will out of the corner of my eye. He looked a little perplexed. He sensed something was up.

  “Why did they split up?”

  “He left her for a younger woman.”

  Will raised his eyebrows. “Blythe’s not exactly old.”

  “A younger, ditzier woman.”

  Will nodded knowingly. “Ah. One of those.” He pulled me close again. “Just in case you were worried—I’m not into those.”

  “I know.”

  Then what is it? He looked like he was about to say it. But he let it go. He let me go. “I’d better check on the grill.” He went out the side door, and I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or absolutely awful.

  Blythe stopped mopping the mat and bit her lip. “Okay. You’re right. Will and the rest of Bonney Bay PD needs your help, whether they can say it or not. And I don’t want to do the snooping myself, so…”

  I put down the sprayer I was using to douse the mats with disinfectant while Blythe mopped after me, a typical morning ritual for us as we strove to protect our Battlers from awful rashes and other infectious nastiness. I hugged her tight. “Thanks, Bly. I owe you.”

  It was settled. After camp, I was going over to Herbert Random’s campaign headquarters to sign up. I’d been doing a lot of thinking about which direction to go with my sleuthing, and I’d decided I needed more of an inside look at the dynamics of this mayoral election. The best way to get more involved in the election was to join one of the campaigns. And the only campaign I could support in good conscience was Herbert Random’s. As an added bonus, it should make Harvey very happy, since Random supported the idea of exempting Reiner House’s sidewalks from the planned widening. No, it wouldn’t remove Gunter Hatton from the race, but at least I’d be doing something to support him.

  About a hundred red, white, and blue signs bearing a smiling image of Herbert Random covered the neatly manicured lawn. A newly printed banner hung between the pale periwinkle pillars, which flanked the front steps:

  Welcome to the Herbert Random campaign. Honesty, integrity, good-old-fashioned common sense for good old Bonney Bay.

  The slogan would probably appeal to the many retirees in Bonney Bay, but would it draw enough of the younger voters? Well, I was a younger voter and I liked the message, but I’d never been into “hip.” Never really followed fads. And flashiness didn’t speak to me at all. The retirees of Bonney Bay weren’t a monolithic group either. They ranged from retired military and successful business people, to old money, to art and nature lovers escaping the bustle of Seattle or other big cities to settle somewhere quaint and picturesque. Not to mention the old-timers, the families who’d been here for generations.

  Gunter Hatton was a businessman and an artist. He had the potential for real bridge appeal. And Jessie Pakowski had that no-common-sense feel-good thing going for her. And maybe it was just me, but it seemed like common sense was eroding and feel-good was a winner for more and more people.

  I rang the bell, and a young woman answered the door. She had a sweet smile, so genuine that her overbite only added to her prettiness. Her dark blond, shoulder length hair was secured with a headband, and she wore a light cardigan and dressy jeans.

  “Hello! Welcome to the campaign headquarters of Herbert Random.”

  “Hi. I’m Brenna Battle. I’m here to help with the campaign.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful! What made you decide to join us?”

  “Something Mr. Random said at the salmon bake. He has good sense, and that’s what Bonney Bay needs.”

  “Exactly!” She shook my hand. “I’m Evelyn Random. I think you know my husband, Walter?”

  “Walter! Yes, I know Walter from judo. How nice to meet you, Evelyn.”

  Evelyn ushered me into a sitting room to chit-chat and fill out a contact form. From the open doorway, I saw what must’ve been a den, now outfitted with folding tables and extra chairs. A handful of volunteers were busy at their lap-tops in the makeshift office. Lawn signs were stacked neatly in one of the corners.

  “We’re having a kick-off party on Friday for all our volunteers,” Evelyn said. “Of course, it’s open to the public, too. Herbert will be there to answer their questions.”

  “So it’s kind of a ‘get to know the candidate’ thing?”

  “Exactly! Of course, most Bonney-Bay-ans have known Herbert for ages, but it’s a chance for them to get to know Herbert, the future mayor.”

  “Friday, as in tomorrow?”

  “Yes, of course. I can’t believe tomorrow’s Friday already. I’ve got to call the caterer and make sure we’re on track. You can make it, can’t you?”

  Caterer? That sounded promising. “Sure. I’ll be there,” I vowed.

  “We really appreciate it, Brenna. Herbert needs all the support he can get. Walter had to convince him to run. Mrs. Pakowski means well, but we just don’t think she’s mayor material. And Mr. Hatton—if he wins, he won’t be in office for long, if you know what I mean.”

  I nodded knowingly, even though I wanted to say, No, I don’t know what you mean. Spill it!

  “That kind of thing, on top of everything else, would just shatter Bonney Bay.”

  Did she think Hatton was responsible for the murder? Did she know it? Maybe Will knew it, and they were just short on evidence so far. Will wouldn’t lie to me about Hatton having an alibi. He’d clam up, but he wouldn’t lie. But if they had discovered a hole in that alibi, he wouldn’t share it. One of their witnesses could have decided they were mistaken, or another witness with a conflicting story might’ve come forward.

  Wouldn’t that have made its way to the Blaster? Maybe, in spite of her pledge to remain neutral, Helen Rolf knew something about his involvement, and she was holding it back. After all, Gunter was her brother-in-law.

  Or maybe this nice lady, Evelyn Random, wasn’t so nice after all. Maybe she was just trying to cast suspicion on her grandfather-in-law’s strongest opponent. Or maybe she knew about some other dirt on Gunter Hatton. Did Helen know about this dirt? Did everyone but me and Blythe, the new girls in town, know?

  I decided not to fish for more just now. I’d wait until the party. What was a party without gossip? Especially a small-town political get-together? Okay, so I’d never been to one. But I couldn’t imagine there wouldn’t be some serious smack talk going on. What did a bunch of like-minded fans do when they gathered around the nachos and hot wings for a game-day party? Trash talk the other team, that’s what. There was no way I was going to miss that party.

  12

  The next day, I pulled Sammi aside after day camp. “Sammi,” I said, “you’ve been doing so well lately, and you’re getting older. More responsible. I really need someone to do me a favor, and I think you’re just the one for the job.”

  Sammi dropped the belt she’d been tying around her folded gi. “You need me to help you snoop?”

  My face fell. Really? I’d just totally set myself up for that one. Way to go, Brenna. “Uh, no, I have something I need to take care of tonight, so I need you to help Blythe with the younger kids.”

  Sammi stood up. “Ha! So you can go snooping without me? No way.”

  “Who said anything about snooping?”

  “What else would you skip class for?”

  I couldn’t lie to Sammi. Not straight out like that. Sammi folded her arms and smiled a satisfied smile at
my failure to deny it.

  I shrugged. “That’s okay, Sammi. I’m sure Katie can help Blythe out instead.”

  “That’s a great idea! And then I can go with you.”

  “Look, I’m just going to a campaign party, that’s all. Boring stuff. I’m going to rub elbows with people who might be in the know. No walkie-talkies, no disguises, no climbing through windows or breaking trellises.”

  Sammi reddened at the mention of the trellis. Not her brightest moment. At least I’d found her in one piece. Did I mention this not-quite-twelve-year-old had a habit of inserting herself into my investigations, uninvited?

  “Just talking, Sammi. Boring, grown-up talking.”

  “Swear?”

  “I swear.”

  She scowled. “Okay, then. But can I see if Katie can help too?”

  “Sure, as long as you two can focus on the kids. No standing there whispering to each other and leaving Blythe hanging.”

  “I promise. But you’re going to owe me, Sensei Brenna.”

  I grimaced. I could only imagine when Sammi would demand pay-back and what form that would take. Knowing Sammi, cookies or ice cream wouldn’t do the trick.

  “What do you wear to a small-town political thingy?” I called to Blythe.

  She came into the bedroom from the kitchen, where she’d been fixing dinner for her and the girls. Katie and Sammi had gotten the okay from their moms to have dinner with Blythe and stay to help with the younger kids’ classes. Katie had already gone home before I talked to Sammi, so Sammi had gone to get her and walk back together. They’d be here any minute.

  I was glad Blythe had thought of inviting them to eat. I always felt bad leaving her to eat alone. Personally, I loved having some alone time, but Blythe was a people person.

  Blythe briskly examined the contents of my closet, shaking her head and moving the hangers aside. “Something nice, but not too dressy…”

  “Too dressy shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Blythe regarded my collection of T-shirts and the occasional polo. “No kidding.”

  She went to her own closet and pulled out a silky, aqua blue blouse. “This’ll show off your eyes. Pair it with those dressy jeans we bought for that date with Will.”

  “Yes. That’s perfect! Thanks, Bly.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hurry up, Brenna. Don’t forget to put some makeup on.”

  I grimaced and nodded. That, I would do myself. A little bit of mascara and some lipstick. If I let Blythe near me with her collection of brushes and powders, we’d be in the bathroom for an hour and I’d come out looking like a princess. No, thanks.

  Blythe’s blouse was a little tight across my biceps, but she was right; it did bring out my eyes. It was a nice, classy-casual look. I just had to remember not to flex.

  Walter had the manner of a big, gawky guy—except he wasn’t that big. He smiled sheepishly and offered me a hand to shake. He had the gawky thing locked up, though.

  “Brenna Battle! Evelyn told me you were coming. What a surprise, to have you join Herbert’s campaign.”

  His hair was gelled into a slightly spiky, slightly messy do. Intentionally casual. He was jacketless and his white, pin-striped sleeves were rolled up under his black suit vest. He straightened his blue bow tie. I’d never seen Walter outside of a judogi, the sweats he put on after practice, or his police uniform. I didn’t have him pegged for a hipster.

  “Well, I thought it was time to really get involved in the community,” I said. “The next mayor will shape Bonney Bay’s future, and I want to be a part of this town long into the future. Besides, my friend Harvey is counting on me to help him keep his roses.”

  Walter laughed lightly. “Gramps told me about that. I hope he gets his exemption.”

  “There ought to be allowances made for historic encroachments on town property. Some kind of squatter’s rights or something. Not that I’m usually in favor of squatting, but come on. The property was thought to be part of Reiner House for a hundred years!”

  Walter nodded. “I’d say Harvey’s roses are unusually worthy squatters.”

  Who knew Walter had a pretty smart sense of humor? He might still move awkwardly, but when it came to conversation, he had a sense of confidence here that I’d never seen from him elsewhere.

  Little did Walter know, he was about to become my new best friend. Just as soon as I got something to eat. I popped a mini quiche into my mouth, excused myself, and went looking for the good stuff. Maybe a stuffed mushroom or a piece of asparagus wrapped in prosciutto.

  My neighbor Lourdes was filling her plate at the buffet table. Lourdes had been good friends with Miss Ruth, the woman who’d rented the building that was now home to the Bonney Bay Battlers Judo School for her Little Swans Ballet Academy for decades. Miss Ruth had been a mother figure to Lourdes and her baby brother, Carlos. She’d retired and moved away, and Blythe and I had moved into the building our late aunt had left to me.

  “Lourdes!”

  She gave me a quick hug. “Brenna! Are you working for the campaign? You don’t have a button.” She pointed to the bright Random for Bonney Bay! button pinned on the woman next to her.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. I need to get one of those.”

  “I want to hear more about what he has to say.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t like my other choices, you know?”

  I knew. Boy, did I know.

  “Come on. Let’s get you some punch.”

  Lourdes liked nothing better than to feed me. Miss Ruth had asked her to look out for us and make us feel welcome, and she’d quickly learned the best way to make Brenna Battle feel at home.

  “That sounds good.”

  I soon had a plate heaped with goodies. I reached across the buffet table to snag a cupcake, and I heard a ripping sound. Dang it! Blythe’s shirt!

  I carefully set the plate down and peered at my own shoulder.

  “Busting out of your clothes, huh?”

  Tony Pfeiffer. I felt along the seam with my fingers. I touched bare skin. I’d split part of the seam all the way through.

  “Ever think about laying off the buffet table?” Tony grinned a toothy grin that made me want to knock every last one of them out. Except maybe one tooth. I’d leave one to swing precariously, old-school cartoon-style.

  “Ever think about going for a different look, Tony? Something besides Half-Starved Waif? What are you doing here?”

  Tony fumed at my insult for a second, then shrugged it off. “I’m here for entertainment purposes. What could be more amusing than a Random, running for mayor?” He said it so loud, several people around us stopped eating and chatting and stared at him in perplexity and anger.

  But no one said anything. Why? Because he was a cop?

  Tony laughed a humorless laugh and walked away, sipping punch.

  “Brenna!” Lourdes said, “Do you smell crab cakes?”

  I decided to let it go, to let Lourdes distract me. “I definitely smell crab cakes.”

  Who was holding the tray of crab cakes, but Walter, my best friend in waiting. I’m telling you, it was meant to be.

  “Walter,” I said, “I can’t even tell you how happy I am to see you.”

  Walter looked a little puzzled, and concerned. “But you just saw me. Remember, I let you in.”

  “Of course I remember. But you didn’t have a plate full of crab cakes then.”

  Walter followed my gaze to the tray. He smiled. “Crab cake?”

  “Please.” I stacked three of them on my little hors d’oeuvres plate. I was pretty sure I could balance five, maybe six, if I engineered it just right, but I didn’t want to look greedy.

  As Lourdes took a crab cake, something buzzed in Walter’s pocket.

  “Excuse me,” he said, “I need to take this. It’s an important call I’ve been expecting.”

  And something about that important call scared the pants off Walter. I never doubted my gut when it came to spotting fear in someone’s eyes. It was what I’
d always looked for in my opponents in World level judo. It was a little difficult to see it in Walter and not automatically respond with the look I’d perfected as a fighter—the look that said I’d sniffed out your fear and now I was going to use it to destroy you. Hey, we were all tough competitors at that level, and most of us didn’t truly wish any harm to each other. That is, not permanent, lasting, off-the-mat harm. But when that buzzer went off, none of us were there to make each other feel better, we were there to win.

  This call wasn’t just important, and it wasn’t just private. It was something that made Walter nervous. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was even some embarrassment mixed in with the telltale fear in his eyes. I watched Walter hurry away, setting the tray haphazardly on an end table as he went. That was no way to handle a lovely mountain of deliciousness!

  Lourdes made a little sound of alarm and went to rescue the crab cakes before anyone could bump the tray and send them to an untimely end somewhere other than our stomachs. I ignored my stomach for once, set down my plate, seized the moment, and tiptoed down the hall where Walter had disappeared.

  I stepped around a side table that held a tall vase full of blown glass flowers and made myself flat, against the wall, on the other side of it. I glanced through the flowers, back toward the party. I was pretty sure no one had seen me, not even Lourdes, and the vase offered pretty good cover. But there were four doors along the hallway and every one of them was shut. I was just going to have to get closer and see if I could hear anything through any of those doors.

  The floor was dark hardwood, but thankfully an ornamental runner cushioned my footsteps. I approached the second door and thought I saw movement under the crack. Yes! Definitely shadowy feet moving back and forth. Walter was a phone-pacer. I leaned close to the door-jamb.

  “That’s a lot of money,” I heard Walter say. “I don’t know if I can get it by then.”

  Money? Blackmail? Loan sharks?

  “I know!” Walter said shakily. “I never should have done it.” His voice dropped off as he turned away. Then I heard, “…dead, and it’s all my fault.”