Death of a Jaded Samurai Read Online Free PDF

desk. "Why would I want to kill him? Walter wanted me to help him start his own karate school, but I didn't think he was ready. He needed money up front as well as more interaction with the students, which is why I let him take over so many classes."
    "That was months ago. I only remember because he threw my flower vase at your office door, and it smashed all over the lobby twenty minutes before classes started." She'd picked up every shard of glass so no one got cut and had cut her fingers in three places.
    "Yeah, then Walter held a so-called secret meeting with the others to try and get them on his side." Mick dropped onto her comfy chair. "They came to me later and filled me in. I was mad but not mad enough to kill him. Not literally, anyway."
    "Not then, anyway." She folded her arms across her waist as a shiver raced through her body. In his defense, Mick had bandaged her bleeding fingers that time. He'd even held a wet cloth to her hand to stop the bleeding and pushed a stray hair out of her mouth. Something so insignificant, yet so intimate at the same time—until his girlfriend, Chloe del Garda, walked in. "Yoshida was furious Walter dared to even question your decision."
    "At the time. Yet a month later, he wanted to hand Walter a school on a silver platter."
    "What changed?" she asked.
    He smirked. "You're not thinking of taking the case, are you, Sherlock? You're smart, and you already know the most about this place. You should be able to tell me whodunit, and then we can reopen for Tuesday classes with no problem."
    Gilda cringed. He hadn't answered her question. "Everyone's leaving town for the weekend."
    "Not anymore," he said. "Your buddy Thayer told us to all stick around for a few days while he questions us. Didn't he tell you the same thing?"
    More proof the whole town knew Gilda Wright had no life. Her face overheated until she was sure she was redder than the sparring gloves he gave her for Christmas. "Thayer doesn't think I'm capable of anything that requires brainpower or physical prowess."
    Mick chuckled. "Doesn't sound like he knows you very well. You could kick his butt with both hands tied behind your back. Is he still after you to get back together with him? Man, some detective. You would think after two years he'd take the hint."
    "I got tired of him not knowing me very well," she said. "Most of the time, he treated me more like a criminal than an equal."
    Mick toyed with Gilda's favorite slim, silver pen. A gift from her father—a twenty-seven-year member of the Newville police force—shortly before he died in the line of duty. The town had even named Wright Park in his honor. She didn't want him touching her pen and itched to snatch it from him but refrained. Later, she'd take it home.
    Someone banged on the front door at the same time the phone rang. Both she and Mick jumped, not sure which way to turn.
    When Mick reached for the phone, Gilda turned away. "I'll get the door."
    "Yoshida Martial Arts." Mick answered the phone then lowered his voice. "What do you want? I told you you're not welcome here. I don't care if you have questions. Don't call here. No. I'll talk to you later." He hit end and slammed the phone onto the desk.
    Gilda paused with her hand on the door lock. Her heart drummed so fast she grew dizzy. Mick had never kicked anyone out of the school that she knew of. Who, and why now? She'd have to check the caller ID on the phone later. Maybe getting rid of him was a good idea. Then she could snoop.
    "You okay, lady?" A man in white asked from the other side of the door and flashed an identification card.
    "I'm good." Her breaths came short and shallow. Walter's sudden death—murder—had made her afraid of every little noise in the building.
    When Mick disappeared into his office, she showed the man in white the dojo and the changing room. "This is the worst of it. The police took the rest. Mick will let you out later."
    He patted her arm. "Thanks. My boys and I will take care of