Karma's A Bitch (A Pet Psychic Mystery) (8 page)

I raised my mug. “Amen, Frankie.”

She looked sheepish as she clinked glasses. “I’m sorry. I know I get preachy sometimes.”

“Not at all. Sounds like you have a lot to share with people from your experiences.”

We spent the next hour or so sharing our ideas for a fundraiser, laughing and munching on the wonderful food she kept ordering. I did sneak in an order for some vegetable curry to satisfy my need for something spicy. At one point, Karma stretched and stood up beside me, sniffing the table. I noticed Frankie startle.

“You hungry, Karma?” I offered him a sausage roll. “This is Karma, he’s harmless.” I smiled at Frankie.

She held a hand to her chest. “Scared me, I didn’t know you had a dog back there.” Then her eyes narrowed. “He looks familiar.”

“Yeah, you might have seen him around with his former owner, Mad Dog. He was homeless, killed a few weeks ago.”

Frankie wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin, succeeding in wiping off her lipstick in the process. She looked pale. “Oh, yeah. I heard about that. The suicide? Now I recognize Karma.”

“Yeah, he’s been really depressed. Loved Mad Dog to pieces. He’s doing better now.” I rubbed his head. He was staring at Frankie like he recognized her, too. “But, you know, I don’t believe he committed suicide.”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“Well, for one, the police think he got drunk and drowned. But, I know Mad Dog wouldn’t drink. He had gotten sober for Karma.”

“Huh.” She finished off her glass of wine and poured another. “For a dog? That’s unusual. Anything else makes you suspicious?”

I almost felt like I could confide in her. Almost. “I don’t know. I spent some time with him the week he died and well, there is the fact that he kept showing up with injuries, bruises and hurt ribs. Someone was hurting him and he wouldn’t go to the police.”

Frankie nodded in understanding. “There’s one thing you have to realize, Darwin. When you’re homeless, the police aren’t your friend. Their job is to keep us out of the way, as invisible as possible.” She waved a piece of pita bread at me. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the police who were beatin’ on him. There’s a unit that deals with street crimes got a couple of bad apples on it. I had run-ins with ‘em myself. Mean suckers.”

“Really?” I couldn’t imagine. I guess it would make sense if that were the case. That’s why he wouldn’t go to the police. “Do you know their names? I’ve got a friend…well, acquaintance I guess, that could maybe look into it?”

She shook her head. “Your best bet, sugar, is just to stay out of it. You don’t want those cops on your bad side. They can make a person disappear and make it look like their idea.”

Like Mad Dog. I sighed and glanced around. Night had fallen and the tables around us were beginning to empty out. Why did everyone’s advice have to be “stay out of it”? I wish that were an option. It wasn’t.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

An afternoon thunderstorm forced people off the streets for a bit and pushed them into the Beach Drive shops and restaurants to wait it out. A few of our customers stood chatting in front of the window, not willing to brave the downpour that was sending water gushing down the street. Sylvia stood beside Nelly Michaels and fluffed out her bichon’s bangs like a proud hairdresser. I heard her laugh. “Hey, Darwin?”

I was perched on the stool behind the counter, watching gray sheets of rain tumble out of the sky. “Yes?”

“Nelly and the girls want to know what kind of fragrance we sprayed in here to make it smell so good?”

Oh geeze. I glanced back at Karma and then held up my hands. “It’s um…Eu da dog rose.” This sent Sylvia into peals of laughter. Karma pushed himself off his bed and came over to rest his head on my lap. “It’s okay, boy.” I smoothed the wrinkles in his brow. “It could have been worse. You could have drunk skunk water.”

The phone rang, almost bringing me out of my skin.

Heavens on a hilltop, I was going to have to start bathing in flower essence to take care of these frazzled nerves. “Darwin’s Pet Boutique.”

“Hi, is this Miss Winters…ah, Darwin?”

“Yes?”

“This is Detective Blake.”

“Oh,” My heart did a tiny flip. I pushed a hand through my hair, trying to tame the short waves as if he could see me. “Hi, detective. What can I do for you?”

“Actually, I have some information for you. Thought it might help you get some closure with the loss of your friend. We were given a note last night that was found at Pirate City.” He paused. “It was a suicide note. Signed by Mad Dog.”

What?! No. no. no. That was not possible. I glanced down at Karma, stretched out on his side on the giant pillow bed Sylvia had bought for him. Or was it possible? Could Mad Dog really have decided death was better than the life he had with Karma? I mean, he was homeless. What kind of life was it really? So, why was suicide so hard for me to believe?

“Darwin? Are you still there?”

“Yeah.” I felt numb. Confused. “Yes. I’m here.” A flash of lightning lit up Beach Drive. A deep rumble rolled through on its heels. This news brought up more questions than answers for me. It made me doubt myself and it made me doubt Mad Dog. And that made me feel like a stone had dropped from my heart into my stomach. I had to get off the phone so I could breathe. “Okay. I…I appreciate you letting me know, detective. Thank you.” I hung up. Now what?

“Sylvia, I’m going to go get us some lunch.” I heard my voice but felt disconnected from it.

Sylvia glanced up from straightening the collars. Her noon appointment was late. “You want to wait a few moments, the storm will go away?”

“No. I’ll be fine.” I pulled the umbrella out from beneath the counter. “French onion soup from Cassis?”

“Sure.”

I felt her concern as I left, but she didn’t push me for information, which I appreciated because I had no idea what I could say. I had no idea how I felt about this new piece of information. Except sad and maybe a bit angry. And confused. Yeah, definitely that.

The sidewalk was already flooded so my flip flops squished with each step. I didn’t bother with the umbrella so my hair and cotton dress both clung to me as I pushed through the rain. The tiny needles of chilly rain gave me something to focus on, something to feel besides numb. It was a welcome distraction.

I leaned against the wall outside after I placed my order, protected from the storm by the building’s architecture but shivering from being soaked to the bone already. I watched the rain splash on the wide sidewalk, on the row of green umbrellas over empty tables lined up against Beach Drive. I should have asked what the note said exactly. Would he have been able to tell me? And who gave it to them? Mad Dog’s tent had a new owner. Why didn’t they find it sooner? His back pack had gone missing, so they didn’t get it from there. Unless they had found his back pack? That’s the most likely place he would have left a note…if he did, in fact, leave one. Okay, if they found the back pack, maybe there was something else in it, some other clue as to what was going on in his life at the time of his death. That’s it. I had to go back to Pirate City and find out.

***

We closed at six and I was on my way to Pirate City by six forty-five, Karma by my side, a Ziploc bag full of ice cold, lemon cookies in my pack for G. I probably should have waited until the weekend, when I had more than an hour and a half before night fall, but I felt like the more time that went by, the more likely Mad Dog’s death would get lost in the system.

What if I couldn’t figure out what happened? What if he was murdered and that person was just walking the streets? I pedaled faster, glancing back to make sure Karma was keeping up. I had to smile at his wide lope, tongue flapping beside his jaw. He really was a sweet boy.

I parked my bike against the tree under the No Trespassing sign and walked into the camp.

“Hey there, Snow White.” Pops chuckled. He was playing cards with Minnie and two others I didn’t recognize. Another group hung out in broken lawn chairs, passing around a joint with a tiny glowing tip.

I waved. “Hey, guys.”

“Oh, hi, nice lady!” G appeared and ambled toward me clutching a shoebox. “You brought some cookies?”

“Hi, G. Yes, I brought some cookies.” I pulled the Ziploc bag from my pack and handed it over to G. He cradled the shoebox as if it were breakable and accepted the bag. I noticed his hand shaking.

“What’s in the box, G?”

He didn’t answer me, just nodded with a big old toothless grin and walked away. Probably for the best I didn’t know anyway.

I moved closer to the table. “Is Mac here?”

“Yeah, he’s in his office.” Pop paused from organizing his cards and motioned to the large blue tarp to my right.

“Thanks.” I headed that way with Karma at my heels. The tarp did offer some shade but it was still hot as Hades under there. Probably a lot more humid, too. I stepped inside, being careful not to trip on the rug that had begun to rot and mingle with the soil. “Hi, Mac.” Mac sat at a table and glanced up at me from the paper in his hand.

“Couldn’t stay away, eh?” he snorted. His attention went back to the paper. “What can I do ya for, Snow White?”

Wow. Didn’t take long for a nickname to stick around here. I glanced at the man who sat across from him. I didn’t recognize him from my last visit. He didn’t seem too interested in what I was there for so I just came out with it.

“The police said someone from here turned in a suicide note from Mad Dog. That true?”

Mac hesitated then he put down the paper and folded his hands. “Hey, give me and this lady a minute, Hops. We’ll finish up your resume in a bit.” The guy stood and left without a fuss. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair the guy just left.

“You know there are three sides to every story, right?”

I took a seat. “I just want the truth.”

He sighed. “The truth is…you really need to stay on your side of town.”

I crossed my arms and waited. That wasn’t what I came here to hear.

“Look. It’s obvious you cared about Mad Dog but it’s also obvious that you don’t have a damn clue what real life is about. Mad Dog probably considered you a friend, too so I’m gonna do him a favor and tell you the only thing I can. Stop asking questions. Go home.”

I stared at him hard. Real life? What does that even mean? That my life isn’t real just because it’s not as hard as his?

“I may not know what life is like here in a homeless camp. I may not understand the full breadth of the suffering that goes on here but I do know that it’s not right to ignore a friend when they need you. And whether Mad Dog is alive or not, he needs me. And Karma needs me. And I’m not walking away from either of them until I’ve seen justice done. If someone killed him, he deserves to have that someone pay for it.”

“Je-sus, girl.” Mac shook his head and his face reddened. “You want to go and get yourself killed then go on. Just don’t involve us, we got enough heat.”

“So, that’s it? You’re not going to answer my question about the letter?”

“No, I’m not.” Mac leaned back and crossed his arms. “And it’s gonna get dark soon, you best be on your way.”

I glanced over at the sun, now just a melted orange puddle on the horizon.

“Fine.” I stood up and Karma stood with me. “Will you just tell me if y’all found his back pack?”

He started to say something and then just shook his head, pressing his lips together. “Nope.”

“Thank you.” Not that his answer helped much. I wasn’t sure now he would tell me if they did.

As Karma and I emerged from the path, a white police cruiser made a three point turn at the dead end. It pulled up beside us and the passenger side window slid down.

“Evening ma’am.”

“Evening, officer.” A low growl started in Karma’s throat and I glanced down at him. He had gone stiff, the fur standing up on the back of his spine. I’d never seen him act like this before and it worried me. There was no way I could stop him if he decided to attack somebody and good heavens please don’t let him attack a police officer. They’d put him down for sure. “It’s okay boy.” I reached down and placed a steadying hand on his back.

“This isn’t a very safe part of town for a young lady. Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

I could still feel Karma bristling under my hand, but at least he had stopped growling. “Sure,” I leaned in closer and read the name on his shirt. “Officer Cruz. I was taking cookies to a friend.”

“Cookies?” His dark eyes flashed with humor. “Really? In Pirate City?”

“Yes, lemon cookies.” I knew it sounded ridiculous and frankly, I was enjoying that fact. He probably thought cookies were a code word for drugs. Let ‘em think that.

“Hey,” the officer at the wheel leaned forward and pointed at Karma. “Isn’t that the dog that hung out with Mad Dog?”

“Yes, Karma.” And he doesn’t seem to be too fond of y’all. “You knew Mad Dog?”

“It’s our job to know the homeless in the area.”

But not your job to find out who murdered one of them? I couldn’t see his name tag, but I tried to see his face as best as I could in the shadow of the cruiser. “Yeah, it’s a real shame what happened to him, he was a nice guy. Karma really misses him. It helped bringing him back here to where he used to be with Mad Dog, I think.”

This seemed to satisfy them as to why I was there. They visibly relaxed. “Well, like I said. Not a good place for a young woman. We’ll make sure you get to the main road safely. Have a good evening.”

The cruiser crept behind me as I pedaled back to the main road. Karma kept glancing back. What made him so upset about those two? Did he remember something?

We reached the edge of North Straub Park as the street lights flickered on. Just then, Karma took off on me, running down Fifth Avenue like his tail had caught fire. I could hear his nails on the concrete over the traffic.

“Karma!” I yelled, as I clumsily turned my bike in that direction and tried to catch up. “Karma, stop! Heel! Halt!” I knew I should have gone back for his lead when I realized I had forgotten it.

All sorts of scenarios ran through my mind…none of them good. He was heading into the old northeast neighborhood, which I was not really familiar with. I rode as fast as I dared on the sidewalk, crossing over First Street then Second; all the while squinting, checking the yards, calling to Karma.