Single Elimination: A Cozy Mystery (Brenna Battle Book 4) (12 page)

“Really?” His grimace looked just a teensy bit menacing. I scanned his figure for signs of a concealed weapon and considered whether I should go on the offense now, or wait until he forced a physical confrontation.

“You left the seminar really abruptly.” I decided to take a shot in the dark. “And it looked like something was wrong.” Okay, so I was still sort of playing him, but it was true that I was concerned, even if it wasn’t necessarily for
him
.

Walter ran a shaky hand through his wet hair. He didn’t have a hood, and rain water streamed down his forehead, over the bridge of his nose. “Well, everything’s fine. I was just saying hello to a friend.”

“Oh. That’s good. Well, if you need anything…” I shrugged. That was easy. I’d let it go. Shrug it off and head back to the dojo. Walter didn’t say anything, so I turned to leave.

“No!” Walter’s big hand was on my arm.

All my instincts said
fight!
But I held back. If there was any chance I could leave here without him knowing I suspected him of committing murder, I had to take it.

17

Walter’s hand tightened. “You can’t go.”

“Walter,” I said, “take your hand off my arm.”

Walter snatched his hand back like a kid who’d just grabbed a hot cookie sheet. “I’m sorry.”

He looked so sincere. And afraid. Afraid of me. Scary Brenna had come out without me even realizing it.

“You can’t tell anyone you saw me here. Especially not Riggins or Chief. Or Helen from the
Blaster
. Please.”

No diabolical criminal would tell someone exactly what he was afraid they’d do to expose him. But a guy who’d murder on impulse, with whatever object he found handy, just might…and yet, my gut was telling me not to be afraid of Walter Random.

I said, “I guess you don’t want me to tell anyone about the things you said at the party. When you were on the phone?”

“How? How do you know what I said on the phone?” The shock turned to defensive sharpness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped. “I didn’t say anything on the phone.”

“Yes you did, Walter. I heard you. I know you owe someone money. Do they know about what you did to Dina?

“I didn’t do anything to Dina Hermiston! What does she have to do with this?”

“
You
tell
me
what she has to do do with this. Maybe she knew something about this.”

“Just what do you think ‘this’ is?”

Okay, so he had me there. I had no idea what was going on. Should I lie? Tell him his secret was safe with me? Of course it wasn’t. If any of it was related to crime, I was going straight to the police with whatever I learned.

“Gang activity.” I picked a criminal enterprise and tried to sound confident about my accusation.

“Gang activity!”

“Sure. Maybe you’re in a little bit of trouble with your friend. The one with all the tattoos, who met you in the restaurant.”

“Prak? I wasn’t there to meet Prak. He’s Lu’s granddaughter’s good-for-nothing boyfriend. If there was anything—anything legal—I could do to get him to leave them alone, I’d do it.”

“Who were you there to meet, then?”

“An old friend.”

“Tola?”

Walter didn’t say anything, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. It
was
Tola. Too bad I didn’t know who the heck Tola was.

“So, your friend Tola couldn’t just have you come by for dinner after the seminar? You left in the middle of everything and sneaked over here.”

“Look, I’m helping someone. Someone with a serious problem.”

“A problem with killing?”

Walter shrank back. Then his face turned red with emotion. He blurted, “The only person she’s killing is herself, and I’m going to stop it or die trying!”

Whoa.
Walter was near tears. The grief-stricken near panic on his face was real. My gut told me this was a hurting man. A man who was trying to do the right thing. Whoever he was referring to, he was genuinely terrified for her. “Hold on. What exactly is going on here?”

Walter seemed to instantly regret his words. “It’s none of your business.”

“No, it isn’t. But I can tell you want to talk about it. You want to help her. Maybe I can help. Maybe the police can help.”

He shook his head, hard. “No. You can’t. They can’t. This can’t get out. It won’t help anyone if it gets out. She’ll ruin even more than she already has.”

“Walter, I want to help you, but given what’s been going on in Bonney Bay, it looks very suspicious. If I don’t know what’s going on with you, I have no choice but to report my suspicions to the police.” I might even have to make a citizen’s arrest. Who knew if Walter might bolt, or warn whoever he’d come all the way to Seattle to see.

“Please, don’t do that.”

“Tell me what you’re doing here. I know you don’t want to, but if I know what it is, and it’s not something the police need to know, I won’t report it. Otherwise, I have to—”

“Alright!” Walter yelled. He took a breath and wiped rain water off his face. He lowered his voice. “I’m helping someone I care about. Someone who’s in trouble. It doesn’t have anything to do with Dina Hermiston’s murder.”

That’s not enough, Walter
. Maybe I could get more out of him with a less direct approach. “Who is she? An old girlfriend?”

He laughed a short, sad little laugh. “She’s my mom. My mom is an addict. Has been for years.” Walter’s voice wavered, and he took another deep, steadying breath. “She always refused to get help, but now she’s finally reached rock bottom.”

“And she asked you to come here to help her?”

“No, her friend Tola owns this restaurant. My mom hasn’t spoken to me in three years. We had an intervention. Me, Grandpa, the whole family. It didn’t go well. Tola’s the only one she’ll talk to now. She let Tola check her in to rehab, but she can’t afford to pay for it. My mom would never stand for me footing the bill, but if I give the money to Tola, she’ll take it from Tola.”

Walter hung his head. His arms fell to his sides. He looked absolutely emotionally spent.

My heart just about broke for Walter. Here he was, sneaking around in the pouring rain, trying to help his mother. A mother who’d been separated from her family for years. Who was in desperate need.
If he’s telling the truth
, I reminded myself. How could I know for sure that this had nothing to do with the murder? Walter’s wife had gone out of her way to cast suspicion on Gunter Hatton. That could very well be to divert attention away from her husband.

“Your wife…she said something about Gunter Hatton. It made me think she believed he was responsible for the murder.” Or that she wanted me to think so. But I was guessing Walter wasn’t the sort of guy who’d take well to me implying his beloved soulmate might be dishonest.

Walter looked genuinely perplexed. “Evelyn said that? No, you must’ve misunderstood her. I don’t think she thinks that.” Walter shook his head, sending rain water flying. “She never told me that.”

Interesting. She’d made it sound like they were on the same page, suspecting Hatton of wrongdoing. Hadn’t she said it was Walter who’d persuaded Herbert to run for mayor, for that very reason?

“I’m going to tell Will. He’ll want to talk to you about it, I’m sure. But Will’s your friend, Walter. He won’t leak this. He wouldn’t do that to you.”

Walter shook his head. “Probably not, but other people in the department might. People who want my grandfather’s campaign to fail.” Walter lowered his voice, even though there was no one around to hear. “I think Hatton has some of them in his pocket.”

“Who?”

Walter pulled back. “I can’t say.”

I couldn’t help thinking of Officer Tony Pfeiffer. I wondered if he genuinely suspected anyone in particular, and if he had any real reason to do so. But I’d pushed Walter enough for one day.

“Well, if you’re done here, Walter, let’s get out of this.” I gestured at the rain.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

I was so wet, so gross, and I’d left my gym bag inside. I didn’t have a spare gi in my truck either. I’d developed the habit of keeping one in my vehicle years ago, but I’d stopped after I moved to Bonney Bay. I ran up the creaky steps and inside to get my bag. It felt so good and warm, sheltered from the wet and wind.

I stood in the spot where I’d left my bag and just stared. Gone. My bag was gone. With my keys inside, my clothes…

Either someone had stolen it, or someone had taken it into the dojo, thinking it had been mistakenly left behind. I spotted a sign for the bathroom just inside the entrance and ducked in there to see what I could do about making myself look presentable. I had to go back into the dojo, where my presence was sure to be noticed, to get my keys and my bag—or, if my stuff was truly gone—to beg someone for a phone or a ride. And who would be the first person to offer me a ride? Jake. If Walter was still around, maybe I could go back with him. But only after everyone at the seminar realized I was mysteriously soaking wet and had lost my bag.

This was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare.

18

There was no way to just disappear. And once I showed back up in there, I’d have to say something.
Aargh!
What was I going to say? I took a deep breath. First things first.

The bathroom smelled like Pine-sol. It had that old but charming black and white tile and wooden stalls painted dark green. In the corner, on the floor, was a janitor’s sink. A mop was propped up in a wheeled bucket inside it. I moved the mop and bucket, stuck my filthy feet in the sink, and turned on the hot water.
Ah, that’s better.
Nice and warm. Not quite clean, but…the bottle of Pine-sol rested on a shelf above the sink. I debated between the soap dispenser on the wall and the Pine-sol. I’d have to take my feet out of this nice, hot water and hop over there to get the soap, and besides, something stronger than soap was in order. I didn’t want to track germs all over the mat. Pine-sol won. I grabbed the bottle, struggled with the childproof cap, then began to pour.

The bathroom door banged open. I jolted, and the bottle of Pine-Sol slipped out of my hand. Piney cleaner sloshed across my legs. I scrambled to grab the bottle and turn it upright before its entire contents went down the drain.

A girl, about nine years old, stared at me, wide-eyed. Brenna Battle, the Olympian, standing in the janitor’s sink, barefoot, filthy, and doused in bathroom and floor cleanser. She averted her eyes and ran into a stall. A girl after my own heart. That was exactly what I wanted to do.

I’d probably scarred her for life. I had to get out of there before the kid came out of the stall and was forced to face the awkwardness of my humiliation, coupled with the trauma of realizing someone she’d looked up to just half an hour ago was actually a moron. I hadn’t bothered to roll up my pant legs since they were already hopelessly soaked. Now they were also bathed in the overpowering scent of Pine-Sol. I grabbed a wad of paper towels and tried to dry my feet and my pants. At least my feet appeared clean now.

I caught a glimpse of my hair, hanging in dripping strands from my weeping ponytail. I took my hair down, rung it out, and looked around for a hand dryer. No such luck. I pulled it back again and secured it into a new ponytail. I’d go in there, get this over with, go home, and take a nice, hot shower. And hopefully not have come back with Blythe because someone had taken off with my keys.
Relax
, I told myself.
The truck’s still there, so the bag probably wasn’t stolen.

I neared the dojo door, steeling myself for my impending humiliation.

“Do you smell Pine-Sol?” Someone said from inside.

I swear, I could hear them sniffing even though I hadn’t even walked in the door. I’d just duck in, find my bag—

“Brenna?”

No. Way.
What was he doing here?

I turned around and tried to mask my shock and mortification with a smile. “Will. Hi!” I said awkwardly.
 

He looked at me quizzically. He was clean, dry, and handsome, dressed in jeans and a light sweater that looked like it was made for him. I put my arms around him. His hug was quick, a little stiff. I told myself it was just because I was soaking wet. “I didn’t know you were coming. How did you know I was going to be here?”
Or were you just coming yourself, to check out Jake?

“Blythe told me you were coming. I didn’t like it. It didn’t feel right.”

“Blythe told you?”

“Don’t blame Blythe. You know she can’t lie when someone asks her a direct question.”

And Will, with his detective’s mind, didn’t fall for her vague pleasantries and attempts at distraction, which were so effective on everyone else when she didn’t want to answer a question.

“You didn’t answer your phone. I got worried. I thought you might be getting into trouble.” He crossed his arms. “It looks like I was right. What happened to you?”

“I’m fine. Getting a little wet never hurt anybody.”

“What were you doing—with Walter?”

It was an accusation, but it wasn’t a jealous one. Not only was Will not the jealous type, Walter wasn’t the type he’d be jealous of. Nope, I’d bet the hot
ramen
noodle lunch I’d been looking forward to that Will Riggins suspected I was up to exactly the type of thing I’d been up to. Snooping.

“Walter?” I said.

“You just came in here looking like a drowned rat, right after Walter came in looking like a drowned wookie. No connection?”

“A rat? Why can’t I be a wookie?”

“Brenna.”

“Walter’s friend Tola owns a restaurant near here. We went to see her.”

“In the middle of the seminar?”

“I’m sure I didn’t miss anything I haven’t seen before,” I grumbled.

The look on Will’s face was unmistakable, as he turned away. He was thinking of just how much I’d seen of Jake Fletcher. Too much for his liking. I wanted to throw up. And smash something. Preferably something of Jake’s.

“So you just stepped out with Walter?”

“No, I wasn’t
with
Walter, I was following him.”
Are you happy now?

“Brenna? Is that you out there?” Jake emerged in the hallway. In his hand was my judo bag. “Where’ve you been? Someone found your bag in the hall.”