Karma's A Bitch (A Pet Psychic Mystery) (7 page)

I was also starting to get worried about leaving Karma alone for so long but I really wanted to talk to Frankie about some fund raising ideas.

While Frankie and Landon were exchanging pleasantries, the twins appeared, their silver outfits swapped for street clothes. They looked about in their early twenties. Stocky girls. Gymnasts maybe? One of them waved at Frankie and then Vick made a jerking motion with his head. They followed him to the corner of the stage. I kept glancing over at them and noticed Frankie doing the same, concern pinching the corners of her eyes. At one point, one of the twins threw up her hands and laughed. Vick had his hands on his hips. He didn’t look amused. This seemed to get Landon’s attention, too and his eyes narrowed for a second before he went back to his conversation with Frankie.

The twins turned and walked away, leaving Vick staring after them. What in the world? What would two young girls have to talk to someone like Vick about? Maybe it was just my naivety again, but something didn’t feel right about it.

When a lull in the conversation came between Frankie and Landon, I butted in. “Excuse me, Frankie?”

“Yes?” That wide smile again. I pushed the image of a camel out of my head.

“Do you have a business card? I’d like to discuss a few fund raising ideas I have for the homeless. I thought maybe we could do something together?”

“Oh, wonderful idea.” She dug through a gold bag and handed me a card. She seemed genuinely pleased with the idea, which made me happy. Something got accomplished this evening besides being wowed by Landon Stark. I glanced at Sylvia. Well, for me at least. She seemed as wowed as a gal can get.

The evening wrapped up about an hour later with Landon lingering over Sylvia outside the building, asking her if she was sure she didn’t want a ride home. To her credit, she refused, saying she was going to walk back with me. I watched this exchange with open curiosity but they didn’t seem to notice. I couldn’t figure out why she was acting so uninterested when I knew exactly how interested she was. Was this what they called “playing hard to get”?

Sylvia offered her hand, which he kissed and then she slipped her arm in mine and we walked away. I glanced back once. Landon Stark still stood there—hands in his pockets, a slight smile on his face—watching us. I rested my head wearily on Sylvia’s shoulder.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I thought Karma had behaved himself quite nicely last night as he greeted me with a slight thumping tail on the bed—although extra slobber did grace my pillow, which I’m sure he did on purpose. Until the morning when I found the French doors to the porch wide open and the bowl of dog rose water emptied.

“That was naughty,” I said, making sure the doors were tightly closed this time. “Don’t most dogs just drink out of the toilet bowl?” He sat by the front door with his head hanging. “Well, I hope you don’t get a belly ache.” I sighed, reaching for my straw bag. I wasn’t sure what the effects would be of so much undiluted essence. “Let’s go.”

I decided the time had come to go back to our morning breakfast routine at Hooker Tea Company. So, after a quick walk in the park with an extra large poop bag, he waited patiently as I mopped the wood floors of the boutique, put some fresh homemade treats in the display case, and straightened out some collars and t-shirts left in disarray. Then we headed out the door.

A twinge of sadness twisted my gut as we approached our favorite table. Did Karma feel it, too?

“You wait here, boy.” I lifted a chair and placed the end of his lead around the leg. I wasn’t delusional. I knew the chair would just go with him if he decided to go anywhere. This was more for the peace of mind of the people walking by who were leery of a hundred and fifty pound dog sitting there alone.

At the counter, I had to fight a big old lump in my throat when I ordered only one ham and cheese omelet. I wasn’t prepared for these little things that kept fashioning the loss of my friend into sharp edges once again. I ordered Mad Dog a black tea, just in remembrance. It made me feel better.

“Excuse me,” I said, trying to make it back through the small knot of customers with my tray. I was learning to pay attention to people in my space: adapting. That was the name of the game, wasn’t it? Adapting to change, good or bad.

“Oh,” I stopped short at the table. “Hey.” Detective Blake was leaning down, two big hands scratching under Karma’s ears. Karma’s tongue lolled, his eyes squinted in pleasure.

“Hi, Miss Winters.” He stood, dusted off his slacks and hands and smiled. Good god in heaven, the man had an electric smile. “How’s he adjusting to his new arrangements?”

“Fine.” I set the tray down and then slid Karma’s plate in front of him. “Took him a few days to eat. He was in a real funk. Then I took him back to visit Pirate City.”

“You what?”

I slid into a chair and stirred the honey into my tea. Should I have not told him that? It wasn’t against the law. Still, he was making me feel like I did something wrong with the way he was staring at me like I was crazy. “It was fine. The people there were friendly and it seemed to help Karma.” I snuck a glance at him as he slid into the chair across from me and folded his hands together. His crisp sapphire shirt matched his eyes. Holy moly, it was hot this morning.

“Listen, Miss Winters…”

“Darwin.” Why did everyone insist on making me feel like my mother?

“Darwin. I don’t know where you came from…”

Same planet as you. “Savannah.”

“Okay. But, here, you can’t just go wandering into the homeless camp. It’s not a safe place; there are drug abusers, criminals, very, very desperate people who wouldn’t think twice about robbing you…or worse. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I poured raw sugar into Mad Dog’s tea, like he liked it, and stirred. There was no way I was giving up on finding out who took Mad Dog away from us, and that was something I knew I had to make Detective Blake understand. “It’s a shocking way for human beings to live. And I did notice the violence. There was a boy there that looked injured just like Mad Dog. Someone is beating these poor people up. Like they don’t have enough problems.”

“All right, look.” Detective Blake rubbed the space between his eyes and sighed. I noticed a distinct lack of a wedding band. Gah! Stop it, Darwin. This heat was really getting to me. “Since I have a feeling you’re not going to listen to anything I tell you, I’ll tell you this as a warning. Last month a guy named Harold Barber got released from jail. He’s homeless, though I don’t think he stays at Pirate City. They call him Scary Harry.”

Sounded like a Sesame Street character to me. I imagined him with purple fur and big black eyebrows.

“He’s a really, really dangerous guy, Darwin. We’ve been trying to keep tabs on him but he’s slippery. If it turns out Matthew Fowler’s death was not a suicide—”

“Matthew Fowler?”

“Yes. That was Mad Dog’s real name.”

I let this sink in. Matthew Fowler. I knew his real name now, which was something.

“If it turns out his death was a homicide, we’ll look to him first.” He shook his head slightly. “And I’m not telling you this to fuel your need to find out what happened to your friend. You stay away from the guy.” He paused and his eyes moved to the street. “Can I ask you something?”

“You’re the detective.” I shrugged and sipped my tea.

“What was the nature of your relationship with Mr. Fowler?”

It took me a second to realize he was asking about Mad Dog. “He was my friend. I told you that.”

“That’s all? Just friends?”

Whoa.Was he asking as a detective? Something in his tone, almost embarrassment, told me it wasn’t just a professional question. I decided to be honest with him. Well, as honest as I could be.

“I didn’t have many friends in Savannah, detective. My sisters and I were sort of sheltered growing up—homeschooled, that sort of thing.” Boy, was that an understatement. “Besides my business partner, Sylvia, at the boutique, Mad Dog was the first friend I made here. Homeless or not, he had a good heart. He loved this dog and took care of him the best he could. And Karma loved him. That tells you a lot about a person. Yeah, he was messed up from his military service, but he was nice. I enjoyed his company. He didn’t deserve to have his life taken away so soon.”

Detective Blake leaned back in the chair. “You really believe he was murdered, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why? I mean, besides the fact that you don’t think he fell off the wagon? What makes you so certain?”

Because Karma showed me parts of what really happened that night, shared his fear and rage with me
. I took a bite of my croissant to give myself a moment to think.

He was giving me a chance to convince him. I had a feeling he wanted to believe me, but his was a profession based on facts, not hunches. I wiggled in the chair; my legs sticky with sweat. He must have seen the struggle in my face because he leaned forward again, his eyes catching mine and the rest of our surroundings disappeared. I swallowed hard.

“Go on, Darwin. If you know something you can trust me with it.”

Yeah, I knew I could trust him. With real information. I could trust him to do the right thing with a solid lead. But, I couldn’t trust anybody with knowledge of my gift. It only provoked fear and malice. I had learned that lesson well and was not going to screw up the chance I had to start over, in a new city, with people who thought I was a normal business owner. Nope. No matter how much he opened himself up, giving me a chance. I couldn’t do it.

“I just knew Mad Dog, that’s all.”

He leaned back and nodded. I could sense the disappointment coming off of him in waves. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry any more. I had never gotten images from people but I did feel their emotions. In this case, I wasn’t sure where his disappointment started and mine ended.

“Well, time for me to open up the boutique.” I gathered our plates and cups onto the tray. I could still feel his eyes on me. He expected something from me. But what? The truth, probably. He knew I was holding back. I snuck a glance at him as I reached down for Karma’s plate. The muscle in his jaw twitched like he was chewing on something. Yeah, he knew.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I sat under one of the oversized red umbrellas at the Moon Under Water restaurant waiting for Frankie Maslow. She had agreed to dinner tonight to discuss some fund raising ideas for the homeless. Karma was stretched out on the brick walkway between my chair and a large white lion statue. It was a gorgeous tropical evening, still hot enough to be grateful for the tall fans circulating the air around the tables. I slipped my sunglasses off as the sun sank low enough off the bay that I didn’t need them. It had been a good day. I settled into contentment as I studied the menu. Everything looked delicious. What was I in the mood for? Something spicy. Yeah, being outside in the heat made me crave spicy food.

The waitress approached wearing a red shirt and kaki’s. “Hi, Can I start you off with a drink?”

“Oh, sure, I’ll have a glass of Guinness. I’m waiting on someone to order dinner, though.”

“No problem, I’ll bring that right out.”

A band played on the porch of the hotel next door. I could still hear bits of conversation going on around me. A few minutes later, I spotted Frankie strutting down the sidewalk and had to smile at her eclectic way of dressing. She received a fair amount of attention in her zebra striped pants, which hugged her amble figure, a white tank top studded with red and black sequins and a red straw hat.

I waved her over.

“Darwin!” She air kissed my cheeks as I stood to greet her. “I’m so glad you called.” Her perfect square teeth had a smear of red lipstick. I found myself running my tongue across my own teeth.

The waitress came up behind her and smiled. “Oh, hey, Frankie. What can I get for you tonight?”

“Hi, Amanda. Just bring us a bottle of your best Bourdeaux, sugar. And a couple of those rock shrimp appetizers for starters.” She fell into the chair across from me with a loud sigh. “I should have gone for a massage today. Oh, I’ve got the best girl.” She rubbed a shoulder with a plump hand. “Veronica Wilkens. You have to come with me one day, Darwin. You won’t find a gal with better hands.”

“Oh.” I cleared my throat. I’d never had a massage before. “Sure. That’d be nice.”

“So, how did you enjoy Landon Stark’s show? Isn’t he just amazing?” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. Her perfume smelled expensive. “Sometimes I think he’s the real thing…you know, really magic. Some of things he does.” She shook her head. “Damn near impossible, I’ll tell ya.”

Huh. She believed in real magic? Interesting. My mind wandered for a moment, imagining I could share some of the things I knew with her. Then I shook it off. Somehow I didn’t imagine she would be good at keeping secrets. Taking a sip of the frothy beer, I decided I better get down to business.

“So, I heard that you’re involved in working with the homeless around here, taking meals to Mirror Park every Sunday?”

“Mhm. Oh, these just look delicious,” she said as Amanda slid the appetizers in front of us and opened the bottle of Bordeaux. “Yepper. I used to be one of the homeless, you know. Lived in Pirate City and everything. The way I see it, I won that lottery for the homeless community, not just me. Gotta take care of our family, right? Of course,” she held up a hand as she chewed on a rock shrimp. “I never imagined the perks that would come with having money. I mean, it’s not just not worrying anymore where your next meal is coming from. It’s not having to feel embarrassed, it’s feeling safe, it’s having people look at you like you’re a human being, for cripes sake, instead of ignoring you or being scared of you cause you haven’t had a place to shower for weeks.” She paused to take a large swallow of red wine. I could see her struggling with the anger still, the hurt. I tried to guard myself from the waves of sadness washing over me, but they rolled in strong and squeezed my chest. I stayed silent, hoping it would help her to talk it out. She forced a smile. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I believe you learn something from every experience. Being homeless taught me humility, taught me to be humble. Helped me to see inside people, beyond their disabilities or current situations. We are all brothers and sisters. All the same inside.”