Gilda tossed all the blankets off her bed, felt a chill, then pulled them back on and huddled beneath them like they offered protection from her thoughts. They didn’t.
Razi had arrived hours ago, hauled Mick to his car and took him home. She hadn’t heard from either one since. Mick had left the school before Walter’s class that day. Everyone in the school knew he normally locked all the doors when he trained alone to be completely undisturbed. He liked privacy, yet someone entered the school once Mick left and killed Walter.
As far as she knew, no one had stepped forward yet to say they saw anyone enter or leave the school. The only other way inside was through the back door that couldn’t be opened from the outside. Not unless someone either left it propped open or knocked loudly for someone inside to open it.
She deflated. Why hadn’t she checked out the back alley?
She pulled on black yoga pants and a dark hoodie in spite of the evening heat. With her thoughts moving faster than her legs or her sense of reasoning, she grabbed a flashlight off the counter. A late night run was the last thing on her mind as she took her keys and peered out the door. No dark sedans. No yellow Ferraris.
As she blew out a breath and stuck her keys into her pocket on her way to the sidewalk, her thoughts tumbled. Keys. Who else had keys to the school? Walter. Mick. Razi. Yoshida. Herself. Did Xavier and Erik have keys? She couldn’t recall. They must.
Her pace quickened and her thoughts tripped each other up as she ran the last block. Erik, she was positive, no longer had keys. He’d abused his privileges when he brought friends into the school one night for unauthorized training and a party. Mick had refused to let Erik into the school for over a month.
Xavier, in yet another snit about something to do with Walter, threw his keys at Mick in a rage another evening. Mick calmly picked up the keys, tossed them in a drawer, then punched a hole in his office wall.
Which brought her back to Walter.
Her shoulders tensed and her paced slowed. Walter had sparred with a new white belt during the woman’s first day in class. He threw several punches and wild spin kicks and sent the woman running out of the school screaming. The woman and her husband, a lawyer, threatened to sue and go to the media. While Mick managed to smooth things over behind closed doors, there’d been tension between he and Walter ever since.
Gilda doubted they’d changed their minds and walked away. When the woman signed up, she seemed to already know Walter and was wary of him from the start. She was sure there was more to the story than Mick said.
With the school in sight, Gilda glanced around then snuck around to the back alley and turned on her flashlight. She took a deep breath and crept down the alley toward the green rear door of the school, with one eye on the dumpster that stood between the Italian restaurant and the consignment store. Anyone, especially a killer, could use it to hide.
The alley was darker than she’d expected. Odd. She was sure the school had a light over the back door. In fact, Xavier never failed to remind them all how he personally installed the light so he could find his car when he left at night. She shone the flashlight above the door. The light was there, but the bulb smashed. The back door itself rippled in the light like someone had made an attempt to pry it open.
Gilda shuddered. No time to be afraid. She had to do this alone since she didn’t trust Thayer or Fabio. Nor did she want to be alone with any of the black belts, including Mick, until she had proof of their innocence in Walter’s murder.
On closer examination, there was no lock for a key. Someone had pried the door to the point they might be able to insert a screwdriver and pop the latch open. Too bad she didn’t have a screwdriver handy to test her theory. The warped door, however, did nothing to make her feel safer either inside or outside of the school.
Gravel crunched behind her and made the hairs on her arms stood. She aimed the beam down the alley. Her flashlight cast shadows on the gravel. Nothing scarier than a crumpled beer can and a wad of paper towels shredded by a raccoon or skunk. She must be hearing things.
Behind the school were four parking spots, two for the staff of the karate school and two for the Nine Lives Consignment Boutique next door. Since Mrs. Watson, nearly eighty, had backed into the building twice in one week, Mick had installed a gray post with a wide band of reflective tape in front of the far corner. Scrapes marred the post and the tape, tinged with blue paint from Mrs. Watson’s Ford Fairlane. Below the streaks of blue, a silver scrape tore the reflective stripe. A probable match to the paint on Xavier’s car.
The alley brightened behind her as Thayer growled. “You better have a good reason for snooping around the alley in the dark.”
She spun around, blinded by a flashlight beam aimed directly into her eyes. Her breath stuck in her throat for several seconds before she managed to push it out. “I work here. I’m allowed to snoop. What are you doing here?”
He lowered the beam out of her eyes. “Mrs. Watson’s grandson lives above the consignment store. He reported a prowler in the alley.”
“I’m not a prowler and you have no legal cause to arrest me.” She poked around some more.
“I should haul you in on principle alone. Let me guess, you forgot your key and need to find another way inside.” Thayer stood so close her hair stood on end.
A far cry from her reaction to Mick.
“Admit it, you just can’t keep your nose out of my investigation. You’re convinced the murderer came out the back way,” he said.
Gilda folded her arms across her chest, careful to aim her light into his face to make him shield his eyes. “Which means you and Fabio already searched the alley and found the same things I found.”
“Then maybe we should compare notes.” He nudged her flashlight down. The beam travelled down his T-shirt and jeans.
“You never even looked back here, did you?”
“Of course we did. We’re trained professionals,” he said. “What did you find?”
She pointed her light at the post. “Several blue scratches from Mrs. Watson’s car. One deep scrape with silver paint. Which could have come from Xavier’s car since his rear bumper had a similar scrape.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s one.” She stood her ground. “What do you have?”
Thayer frowned. “Not a chance. Give me one more.”
“The broken lightbulb over the door.”
He nodded. “Could be something. So could the pry marks. When did someone break in?”
“That’s your job. What do you have?”
He studied her for a long minute then pointed across the alley to a sign marking a school parking space. A deep dent warped the metal post. “It looks like someone was in a big hurry. Who drives a silver car besides Xavier?”
“Walter. Razi. Happy. Fabio. Pretty much half of Sandstone Cove.”
Thayer scowled. “Only the karate black belts are actually on our suspect list.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Gilda shifted. “What about Chloe, Jade, and Gary? They all stood to gain with Walter dead, especially Jade. Chloe might have done it just to get back at Mick. As for Gary...he has connections.”
He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “You know you don’t have to be like this. We could work together amicably. Maybe even be friends again.”
“After what you did?” She started to walk away. “After two years of me pushing you away, you still don’t get it, do you?”
Behind them, a metal garbage can clattered to the ground, making Gilda shriek and jump.
Thayer drew his weapon and crouched to one knee seconds before a calico cat raced away down the alley. “Where did that thing come from?”
Gilda shone her flashlight toward the consignment store. A weathered, silvery wood staircase led to the apartment above the store. From there, anyone could climb over the railing and onto the karate school roof. Anyone unafraid of heights, that was, which let her out.
“The grandson’s cat,” Thayer said. “That’s a steep jump even for a cat. What’s up there?”
“The roof.” Her eyes widened. And the air conditioner and vent for the building.
Thayer started up the stairs then seemed to reconsider when the light in the small apartment over the boutique turned on. “Is there another entrance to the school up there?”
“As far as I know, it’s just the air conditioner.” She gazed up the stairs, across to the roof and down to the cracked asphalt in the alley and wished he’d go away so she could find out.
Someone agile could run out the back door, climb the stairs, and run across the rooftops to the grocery store at the end of the block. With all the tourists armed with beach toys, shopping bags and souvenirs, they could disappear into the crowd. A barefoot ninja. She shuddered.
“Gilda?” Thayer waved a hand in front of her face. “Did you have an idea or a stroke?”
She pushed past him. “Neither. I’m tired and I’m going home.”
“I don’t think so, honey.” He reached for his handcuffs, but he was wearing civilian clothes. “If you know something, you need to tell me or I’ll lock you up.”
Her mouth dropped open. “For what?”
Thayer put his hands on his hips. “Mostly your protection, but also for impeding an investigation.”
“I showed you the post and the dents in the door, didn’t I?”
“I guess,” he said. “Go home, stay out of trouble, and don’t leave town.”
She didn’t make any promises. Two out of three wasn’t so bad. Was it?