Hardheaded Brunette (14 page)

Mick chuckled. "Looks like we need to rescue a damsel in distress."

Kane pushed Mick and Gilda apart. "A damsel in distress? Where? Who?"

"Mena," Gilda said.

"Oh," Kane snorted. "Forget it. That psycho chick's on her own. I'd rather talk to the people without retractable claws, thank you."

Gilda smirked and pressed against Mick's side. "Some days I'm not sure if he actually dislikes her or just likes to make people think he does."

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"He's still watching her and Gary over his shoulder."

Mick glanced at Kane and grimaced. "Huh. Interesting."

Mena smiled. "Hey, I hoped you guys would get here soon."

Gary didn't seem as happy. As he met Gilda's gaze, he twitched his head to one side. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Yeah. Sure." Gilda winced as she met Mick's glance.

As Gary led her back toward the double doors, he placed a hand on her lower back and seemed to tense when they passed Sanchez and Gomes. "There are a lot of people here I didn't expect would show up. I kind of feel like I'm being sized up for the next coffin."

"Why would you say that?" she asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

He pulled her into the cloakroom and lowered his voice. "They all know who I am and that I've bet against them in the past."

"Betting against someone isn't worth killing over, is it?" she asked.

"Maybe not." Gary peered around the corner as if to make sure they weren't followed. "But they also know that because of my current occupation, I know things about each of them that could get me in trouble if I opened my mouth to the wrong person."

"Like me?" Gilda stepped back.

"Don't flatter yourself." Gary popped a piece of gum into his mouth. "More like Fabio and Thayer. Or Mick."

"Mick?"

He peered out toward the chapel once more then turned back to her. "Mick and Razi used to be a part of Charlie's ringside team. They helped coach fighters and trained them to be the best of the best. Then Mick and Charlie had a major falling out. This was years before Charlie and Kane went their separate ways, but for more or less the same reason."

"Did it have to do with drugs?" she asked.

Gary's face paled.

"The service is starting." Fabio stood in the doorway.

Despite his earlier diligence, Gary's eyes widened and he pushed past Fabio toward the chapel doors as if his life depended on being there on time.

Gilda shrugged then followed Fabio in silence. She looked around for Mick, who was already seated across the room next to Mena. Before she could make her way over to him, Doc grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the pew nearest the door. Her right shoe fell off in her less than graceful tumble onto the wooden seat.

"Glad to see you here," Doc said. "You and I need to talk."

When Mick narrowed his eyes, Gilda leaned close to Doc. "Is everything okay?"

"I saw you with Gary," he said. "You should stay away from him. Word around town is Gary had something to do with Charlie's death and someone put a hit out on him."

"A hit on Gary? Why?" Her jaw dropped while she reached out a pointed toe to recover her shoe. "He didn't do anything."

"Shh!" A woman in a black dress turned and scowled.

Doc leaned away from Gilda and stared. "How do you know that?"

"He told me." She pulled her shoe closer and jammed her foot inside.

"Gilda, you're so trusting sometimes it's frightening." He smiled and patted her leg.

At least she wasn't as trusting as she used to be. She remained wary of a few people. Kane and Mena were at the top of her list. "Have you met Kane Garrick yet?"

"Shh!" The woman in black threw another nasty look in her direction.

"No comment." Doc stared straight ahead.

She huffed and tried to listen to the service. At the far end of the row ahead of her, Kane glanced back over his shoulder then looked from her to Mena and Mick. When Gilda peered over Doc toward Mick again, she realized why. Mena sat next to Gomes, the tops of their heads touching as they whispered. Gomes' trainer, Sanchez, was nowhere in sight, although Gilda was sure he was in the chapel earlier.

The chapel cleared out immediately after the service. While Charlie's family hopped into their cars to follow the hearse, most of the fighters milled around outside in the sunlight.

Gilda searched for Mick, dismayed to see Mena clutching his arm and crying on his shoulder. Considering she hadn't shed a tear throughout the service, her current overabundance of emotion seemed out of place.

Kane stood next to Gilda with his arms folded and his sunglasses back in place. "She can turn those crocodile tears off and on like a water tap."

Gilda studied his tight jaw. He seemed more jealous than anything. "How close is she to Gomes?"

"Last I heard she hated the guy." He grimaced. "During Charlie's funeral she was practically sitting in his lap." His Australian accent had slipped away.

"I meant friendship wise, not… Does that bother you? I thought you two were no longer an item."

Kane's cheek twitched as an easy grin slid into place. "Yeah, we're not, love. Why don't you and I go off and get a cuppa joe? I'll even treat you to dessert. We can have the main course later." He winked.

Gilda was almost glad to see him back to his usual obnoxious self. Almost. "I'll pass, thanks. I need to talk to Mick."

"Yeah. Of course you do." He shrugged, giving her a quick once-over. "You can't blame a bloke for trying, can you?"

As Kane walked away, Gilda turned toward Mick and Mena. Mick patted Mena on the back with one hand, while he pried her fingers off his lapel with the other. He cast Gilda a pleading glance then motioned toward Gary, who stood near them, his gaze shifting around the parking lot as he smoked the stub of a cigarette.

Gilda sucked in a bracing breath, approaching Gary first. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, I was waiting for you to join us." He dropped his cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it with his toe. "What did Kane want?"

"Nothing," Gilda said. "He just asked if I wanted to go for coffee."

Gary flinched. "I see. Are you meeting him somewhere?"

"No." Gilda met Mick's gaze.

Mena sniffed. "Then where's he going?"

"I don't know," Gilda said.

Gomes touched Mena's upper arm. "You look like you need a stiff drink."

She inched away from him, yet nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"Why don't we go somewhere we can sit and talk before the wannabe Aussie finds us?" Gomes smiled, sending a shiver down Gilda's back.

Gilda wanted to tell Mena to run but kept her mouth shut. She wanted to talk to Mick and find out what went on next to him during Charlie's funeral but had to wait until they were alone. Once Gomes walked away with Mena, Gilda turned to Mick. "Do you have time for coffee?"

Mick hugged her. "I'd love to, babe, but I need to talk to Razi about taking over classes for me. I may need to go out of town for a few days."

"Really?" Gilda wasn't sure why that surprised her since his family lived hours away and he often went for short visits. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see you guys later. I have things to do that won't wait all day." Gary snorted then stormed across the parking lot to his car and slammed the door.

Gilda frowned. "What was he waiting for?"

"No idea." Concern flickered across Mick's face before he kissed her. "Why don't you go home and putter in the garden? I'll call you later."

She stood alone in the parking lot, staring after Mick. Rather than go directly home, she wandered up the street toward the karate school with plans to print off a copy of the photo she'd discovered and do a little more digging into Charlie Hunt's sordid life.

Gilda pulled up the image of Mena, Razi, Mick, Charlie, and Kane smiling in the center of an octagon. She overlooked Kane's bruised and bloodied body to focus on Mena, who clung to Mick with her back turned to Kane. Print screen. Before long, a color copy of the photo appeared on the printer dock. She laid it on the desk, hoping to find more.

It seemed Mena had known them all for a long time. She'd gone off with Charlie willingly at Razi's and was all over Gomes at the funeral. Odd behavior for someone who said she was Kane's girlfriend then clung to every man but Kane. Ex-girlfriend with numerous benefits, the way Kane told things. If that was the case, what sort of relationship did she have with Mick then or now?

Gilda sighed and looked past the main figures in the photo at the background. Charlie Hunt stood just outside the octagon, his arms folded as he sneered. Sanchez's mouth hung frozen open for all eternity as if in mid-speech. Behind him, Gomes examined a young fighter. A man she'd never seen before, yet seemed so oddly familiar her forehead itched as she turned back to the computer to search for more information about the fight.

"What are you doing here, love?" Kane stood across the desk.

Gilda jumped, accidentally knocking the power cord beneath the desk with her foot. The screen went black. "Nothing. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be off with Mick."

He turned away. "I had some things to take care of."

"Like what?"

"I asked Kane to meet me here." Razi walked into the school, his jaw tight and nostrils flared. "It might be best if you do not remain in the school much longer, Miss Wright. We have come to settle a few things. You do not want to witness what is about to happen to your friend."

Gilda winced at the mere thought. She'd seen Razi fight before. Whatever he and Kane needed to discuss while they trained was serious. Perhaps there was a way she could sneak back inside unseen after she left. She wasn't really sure that was a good idea, though.

"See you later, love. Go have some fun in your garden." Kane slapped a hand on the top of the desk, making her jump. "Oh, and if Mena asks, you never saw me." He darted down the hall toward the changing area.

Gilda raised her eyebrows. "I'm not so sure I really did see you."

"That's the spirit, love." Kane waved over his shoulder on his way to the changing rooms.

Razi came around behind the desk, his voice a low rumble. "I have not seen that photo in years. I hope you do not think you have found any sort of evidence. That picture proves nothing."

"I thought it was a nice picture." She tried to feign nonchalance. "Who did Kane have to beat to win that belt?"

He picked up the photo and studied the image. "Someone who should never have set foot in the ring. A kid Charlie Hunt sent to his doom just for show. A nobody."

Translation: None of her business.

Gilda nodded, more intrigued than ever. She sighed. "I'll get out of your way then."

Kane reappeared wearing an Under Armour shirt, tight shorts, and a smile. "Why don't you go for a run or something?"

"Yeah, sure." She winced. "Why don't I do that? Oh, yeah. I threw out my shoulder."

"How about a long walk then?" Kane leaned over to see what Razi held and froze. "Now there's a moment in time I'd rather forget."

Gilda frowned. "You'd want to forget you won a fight?"

"No." Kane shook his head. "I just want to forget I beat—"

Razi jabbed him in the ribs with a sharp elbow and shoved him away from Gilda's desk. "We should go train. I do not have all day."

She gave a huff as the men walked away into the dojo. Who was the man Kane beat and why was Razi so determined to keep his identity from her?

"Where is he? Where's Kane?" Mena stormed through the front door less than two minutes later. "Why am I asking you? You wouldn't even tell me the time, would you?"

Gilda huffed. "Maybe if you asked nicely."

When Mena looked up, her blue gaze locked onto Gilda. Tiny tears dotted her long lashes, almost covering her confusion and fear. Her nostrils flared, and then she grimaced, her jaw tight. "I didn't kill him, you know. You have to believe me."

"Who? Charlie?" Surprised, Gilda sat back. "What makes you think I don't believe you?"

Kane lumbered around the corner toward them. "A likely story, love. We all know you're a demon at heart. The trick is for the people around you to not care—then they won't get hurt. Much."

Mena's jaw dropped. "Oh. Like anyone could hurt a hardheaded Neanderthal like you. You don't care about me. You never did. It was all a trick to get me to invest time and money in your career and make you look good in public after the drug scandal."

"That's a lie." Kane lunged toward her.

Gilda ran around the desk and stood between them. "Stop it, both of you. What's wrong with you two?"

"He's a juiced up caveman." Mena folded her arms below her breasts.

"She's a black widow." Kane looked smug but stepped back out of Mena's reach as she lashed out. Her arm smacked into Gilda's sore shoulder instead, just as Razi appeared in the doorway of the dojo.

Gilda gasped, shoving Kane away with her left arm. "Kane, go for a run or something."

He huffed. "I already did five miles this morning."

"So go do five more," Gilda snarled.

"I don't know why you're getting rid of him," Mena said. "You haven't liked me since we met on the beach, and you wish I'd just disappear so you can have both him and Mick."

Gilda frowned. "You're wrong. I'm seeing Mick, Kane is just—"

Mick came around the corner and stepped between them.

Gilda's jaw dropped. She hadn't even realized he was in his office. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd gone out."

Mick seemed to force a smile. "What's going on, guys?"

Kane opened his mouth, then quickly shut it and dodged around both women toward the door. "I'm just leaving. We can train later, Razi."

"No." Mick clapped a hand on Kane's shoulder, pulling him off balance. "Stick around. I'd like to talk to you."

Mena scowled. "Oh, great. Gilda doesn't want us to make a scene and you're about to create one."

"I think there have been enough scenes around here lately," Mick said. "Kane, go wait in my office."

"Yes, Sensei." Kane bowed his head and shuffled away.

Mick watched Kane head to his office before he turned back to Gilda and Mena. "Why don't you go grab some coffees, then we can sit in my office and talk?"