Gilda tossed, threw all the blankets off her bed, then pulled them back on and huddled beneath them like they offered protection from her thoughts. They didn't.
Razi arrived hours ago, hauled Mick to his car, and took him home. She hadn't heard from either one since. Mick was sure everyone except Walter left the school before he did that Friday, yet someone had entered the school once he left and killed Walter. Everyone in the school knew he normally locked all the doors when he trained alone, to be completely undisturbed. He liked privacy.
As far as she knew, no one had stepped forward yet to say they'd seen anyone enter or leave the school. The only other way inside was through the back door, which 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 bothered to check 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 arms, 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 each 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 was so mad he refused to let Erik set foot inside 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 pace 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 settle things behind closed doors, there'd been tension between him and Walter ever since.
Gilda frowned. She still doubted the couple had 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, which convinced Gilda there was more to the story than what Mick told her.
With the school in sight, Gilda glanced around, then snuck to the back alley and turned on her flashlight. She took a deep breath and walked 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 for cover to hide behind.
The alley was darker than she'd expected since there were no streetlights. 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 late at night. She shone the flashlight above the door. The light bulb had been smashed. The back door of the school rippled in the light like someone had made an attempt to pry it open.
Gilda shuddered. She couldn't 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, someone had pried the door to the point he might be able to insert a screwdriver and pop the latch open. Too bad she didn't happen to 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 the hairs on her arms stood. She aimed the beam down the alley. Her flashlight cast shadows on the gravel that made her shiver. Nothing scarier than a crumpled beer can and a wad of paper towels shredded by a raccoon or skunk. She must have been 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 gotten a gray post with a wide band of reflective tape installed 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 had torn the reflective banner. She was willing to bet it matched the paint from the bumper of Xavier's car.
The alley brightened behind her, and Thayer growled. "You'd better have a damn good reason for snooping around in the alley after 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?"
"Mrs. Watson's grandson lives above the consignment store. He called to report a prowler in the back alley." He lowered the beam out of her eyes.
"I'm not a burglar, and you have no legal cause to arrest me." She ignored him and poked around the alley some more. Still nothing interesting. Only way into the school through the back door might be with a screwdriver. Didn't even open with a key.
"I should haul you in on principle alone. Let me guess. You forgot your key and need to find another way inside." He stood beside her, 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 and seem 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.
"I'll bet you never looked back here, did you?"
"Of course we did. We're trained professionals," he said. "Now, stop stalling. 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?"
"Not a chance. Give me one more."
"A broken light bulb over the back door."
He nodded. "That could be something. So could the pry marks on the steel door. When do you think someone tried to break in?"
"I don't have to think anything. That's your job. What do you have?"
He studied her for a long minute then pointed across the alley to one of the signs marking a parking space for the school. The post bore a deep dent that warped the metal. "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. Gary…well, 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."
"Friends? After what you did to me?" She laughed. "Are you for real? How many ways do I have to tell you I don't want anything to do with you? 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 her shriek and jump.
Thayer had his weapon drawn and crouched to one knee seconds before the 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, which definitely let her out. Erik, however, used to wash skyscraper windows in Newville.
"Must be the grandson's cat," Thayer said. "Why wouldn't it take the stairs? That's a pretty steep jump, even for a cat. What's up there?"
Her eyes widened. "The roof." And the air conditioner and vent for the school 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 from up there?"
"I doubt it. 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 for sure.
A parkour fanatic, one of those crazies who ran up the sides of walls and did gymnastics on playground equipment, Erik was agile enough to 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, he 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. 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?"
"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," Thayer 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?