Karma's a Killer

by Tracy Weber

  “You two talked about all of that in front of the guards? Are you nuts?”

  The answer was undoubtedly yes, we were both certifiable. But I suspected Dale already knew that.

  “I don’t know what we were thinking. Dharma’s attorney warned her not to talk about the case. I guess we got carried away.”

  “She’s already hired an attorney?”

  “If you can call it that. She met with a public defender. A young one. I’m afraid he might be in over his head.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me. I certainly was when I started out at the PD’s office. What makes you so sure she wants to hire someone different?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not, but I have to try. She’s going to need better than some overworked kid who just passed the bar exam.” I bit my lower lip. “Dale, you should know—Dharma doesn’t have any money.”

  He smirked. “Seems to be a family trait.”

  I couldn’t come up with a snappy retort, so I reached down and rubbed Bandit’s ears.

  Dale slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “We can work out the money issues later. First, we need to figure out which lawyer’s going to be alpha. I’ll head downtown and make a few phone calls. Maybe I can finagle that young pup who’s representing Dharma into getting me a visit.” He squeezed my upper arm and dropped the red-necked façade. “Don’t worry, Kate. If she wants my help, she’ll get it.”

  He stood up and handed me Bandit’s leash. “Now, I shouldn’t be gone longer than a few hours, so you entertain Bandit. I’ll pick him up and fill you in later this evening.”

  I looked in the cute pirate-dog’s beady brown eyes and saw nothing but trouble. “You’re not taking him with you?”

  “Kate! You should know better than that. I can’t possibly leave him alone in the truck.”

  I looked outside at the overcast rainy day. “It’s cool outside, and you can park in one of the downtown parking garages. He’ll be perfectly safe.”

  “Bandit would be safe enough all right. But what about my truck? The last time I left him alone, he ripped a hole clean through the upholstery. That truck’s a classic! Besides, Bandit would much rather spend time with you.”

  As if plotting his future misconduct, Bandit cocked his head, scratched his left ear, and sniffed at the carpet. I could only hope that he wasn’t planning to lift his leg on the statue of Ganesh that guarded the yoga room’s entrance.

  Dale’s smile didn’t look sincere. “Bandit won’t be any trouble at all.” He paused. “As long as you don’t leave him alone. Or let him get bored.” He backed toward the door and looked at me with what I swore was an expression of sympathy. “Have a great time, you two!” He jogged across the parking lot, jumped into his truck, and sped off.

  Bandit sniffed every square inch of the lobby, not seeming worried in the slightest that his human had abandoned him. I glanced at the desk clock, then down at the wiggling monster. “Okay, kid. Looks like it’s you and me until my class starts at six. Think you can behave and let me get some work done for the next couple of hours?”

  Bandit chose not to commit.

  I tied his leash to my desk and returned the first of the studio’s long list of phone messages. Bandit busied himself by sharpening his teeth on my desk. No problem, I could deal with that. I opened the drawer, pulled out one of Bella’s favorite chew toys, and firmly gave the command “sit.” Bandit remained standing, at least in the seconds his feet touched the floor. The rest of the time he levitated, yipping at full volume and trying to snatch the toy from my hand.

  “Fine, you win.” I handed him the toy, which of course ruined the game. He started digging in the carpet, obviously determined to bury the toy somewhere in China, or at least far out of the reach of any yoga teacher stupid enough to try and reclaim it.

  Perhaps ignoring him would do the trick. I looked away from the little he-devil, dialed the second number, and tried, unsuccessfully, to speak loudly enough to be heard over the barking. No problem there, either. I could always spend the next hour responding to the day’s deluge of emails. Bandit might be more stubborn than I was, but I was smarter. I could outthink any canine. Well, any canine except Bella.

  Or so I thought.

  Forty-five migraine-inducing, suicide-ideation-causing minutes later, I gave up, grabbed the little monster, and carried him down the sidewalk for a visit with Uncle Michael at Pete’s Pets.

  The sucker (oops, I mean, my amazing life partner) actually looked happy to see the little black-eye-patched demon. I felt bad for not giving Michael adequate warning, but these were extenuating circumstances: the students of my Yoga for Healthy Backs class would start arriving in fifty-five minutes, Bella needed a bathroom break, and my head was about to explode. Besides, Michael was already mad at me. What did I have to lose?

  I left Bandit with Michael, gave Bella her bio break, and still had time to stock the bathroom supply cabinet with the month’s inventory of hand soap, toilet paper, paper towels, and facial tissue. When the clock rolled around to five forty-five, I greeted my students with a virtuous smile and a self-satisfied sigh. In one day, I’d helped a long-lost relative, managed the studio’s inventory, given an old friend a new job, and proven to the world once and for all that I was an incompetent babysitter. Some days, life was good.

  I checked in the final student, locked the front door, and joined the fourteen yogis already seated in the practice space. I asked them to lie on their backs with their knees bent and their feet flat on the floor—a comfortable position for most back pain sufferers—and rang the Tibetan chimes three times.

  “Take a moment to check in with your bodies. Start by noticing any areas of tightness or discomfort. Imagine a heat lamp warming those areas, melting away all muscle tension.”

  After a few minutes, I asked my students to change how they breathed in order to strengthen their core. “With each inhale, allow your belly to relax and your low back to rock gently away from the earth. With each exhale, contract your abdominal muscles, as if you were closing the zipper on a pair of too-tight jeans. You should feel your low back flatten toward the floor.” This exercise strengthened the deepest core muscles that stabilized the lumbar spine and pelvis.

  I’d taught Yoga for Healthy Backs often enough that I could do it practically without thinking. Normally, I would have kept my mind focused anyway, as if I were teaching the class for the first time. Tonight, I allowed my mind to wander.

  Over two hours had passed since Dale left for the courthouse, and I hadn’t received a single voicemail message. Was he at the jail gathering intel from Dharma or in a bar tossing back cold ones with his lawyer buddies?

  The heavy-set man in front of me twitched and started to snore. The students around him giggled and fidgeted. Time to get them all moving. I guided them in Apanasana—Knees-to-Chest Pose. “Place your palms on your kneecaps, with your fingers pointing toward your toes.” This deceptively simple yet powerful pose warmed up the muscles of the lumbar spine. “On inhale, rock your knees away until your arms are straight. Notice how your lower back gently arches away from the floor. On exhale … ” My voice continued speaking on autopilot. My mind wandered to suspects, means, motive, and opportunity. What did I already know?

  Frustratingly little, and yet more than I thought.

  I mentally outlined what I’d observed the morning of DogMa’s fundraiser.

  First odd factoid: Dharma and her buddies at HEAT had traveled over seven hundred miles from Sacramento to Seattle to protest a well-regarded animal shelter. That act by itself seemed unusual. Was there something I didn’t know about DogMa that had made it a target, or had the day’s protest merely been a pretense for something else?

  I moved the class to their stomachs and guided them through several repetitions of Cobra Pose to strengthen their backs. “Place your palms on the floor under your shoulders and … ”

 
Come to think of it, Sally and Maggie had seemed upset, but not exactly floored, to learn that HEAT was going to protest the event. When Maggie saw the picket line, she’d said, “I can’t believe she’s actually going through with this.” Dharma and Goth Girl were both mysteriously missing at that time. Was Raven the “she” Maggie referred to? And if so, how did they know each other?

  A student to my right lay on his belly with his forehead resting on his forearms. The face of the young woman next to him was turning bright pink. Perhaps I should give the class a break. “When you finish your next repetition, press your hips back to your heels and let your forehead rest on the floor in Child’s Pose. Imagine that you can breathe warmth into your low back muscles.”

  Warmth. The fire. Raven had said to Dharma that someone was going to burn. Could she have known about the impending arson? Setting a dumpster on fire wasn’t the same as drowning someone, but it was still an act of violence. Hanging out with violent criminals was a good way to wind up dead.

  I brought the class to standing for several repetitions of Uttanasana, or Head-to-Knees Pose, a posture I’d specifically adapted to safely stretch the lower back. “On inhale, raise your arms over your head. On exhale, bend your knees and fold forward, bringing your fingertips toward the earth.” A man near the back of the room ogled the bent-over bottom of the woman in front of him, then quickly averted his gaze and smiled sheepishly at his wife.

  Which reminded me of love triangles, like the one between Raven, Eduardo, and Dharma. What was going on there, anyway? On the surface, Eduardo and Raven weren’t all that surprising a couple. Physically, they were a good match: both in their thirties, both attractive, both interested in the same social causes. Dharma, though beautiful, was old enough to be Eduardo’s mother, yet she seemed genuinely surprised to learn that he was having an affair with Raven. Did Raven have some hold over Eduardo that Dharma wasn’t aware of?

  By the time I led the class in a long, luxurious Savasana, the only conclusion I’d reached was that while I had lots of questions—mainly for Dharma—I had no answers, and I wasn’t likely to get any in the near future. Dale would string me up by my toenails if Dharma and I discussed the case in front of the guards again. I’d have to make a list of questions and hope Dale and his oh-so-convenient attorney-client privilege could find the answers.

  I rang the chimes three times and brought the class back to sitting. After a brief Q&A session and a discussion of the upcoming week’s home yoga practice, I wandered to the lobby with my students and unlocked the front door.

  A vibrating, growling, foaming monster-beast lurked on the other side.

  His name was Michael.

  He held a wiggling Jack Russell terrier in his outstretched hands. “Take. Him. Before. I. Strangle. Him.”

  He thrust Bandit into my hands, spun his back to me, and stomped away, muttering phrases about broken treat jars, gutted dog beds, and soon-to-be fricasseed terriers. Somehow I doubted that Bandit was about to become the new Pete’s Pets store mascot.

  I smiled at the four students still putting on their shoes in the lobby. “Anyone up for a few hours of dog-sitting duty? He’s a sweet little guy.”

  Bandit added a wiggle and a growl to the conversation. Two sympathetic smiles, one “no way,” and an “I’m outta here” later, Bandit and I were completely alone. I locked the door and peered down at the little beast.

  “What am I supposed to do with you now?” Putting him in the car with Bella was a non-starter. I wasn’t sure which one of them would win the inevitable scuffle for dominance, but I didn’t want to find out the hard way. Tying him to my desk again was equally unattractive. I considered releasing him to the wild, but Seattle might never recover. I checked voicemail instead. Dale had left a message.

  “Sorry, Miss Kate. I’m going to be later than I thought. I managed to get a meeting with your momma and her assigned attorney.” I stiffened at his use of the M-word. “I’ll be back to pick up Bandit as soon as I can.”

  In other words, I might be stuck with the little fur-demon all night. Fortunately, there was one room in the studio that might actually be Bandit-proof. I felt a little guilty locking him in the bathroom by himself, but only a little. Not nearly guilty enough to change my mind.

  “Try sharpening your teeth on porcelain, you little beast.”

  I marched through the yoga studio and into the lobby, then closed the door separating them. Bandit’s scratches and ear-piercing yelps were much less aggravating when heard through several layers of soundproofed sheetrock.

  I straightened the retail area, emptied the garbage cans, and vacuumed the lobby. By the time I unplugged the vacuum, Bandit’s barking had finally stopped. Hopefully he’d relax and nap until Dale arrived to reclaim him.

  I tiptoed through the yoga room and reorganized the mats, blankets, straps, bolsters, and blocks that my students had haphazardly tossed back on the shelves. Once I finished that multiple-times-daily job, I grabbed the dust mop and started sweeping the yoga space.

  I heard a thud and the sound of muffled scuffling from inside the bathroom. Bandit must not be sleeping after all.

  Wait a minute …

  If Bandit wasn’t sleeping and wasn’t barking, what, pray tell, was he doing? I quietly swept my way to the bathroom and pressed my ear against the door. At first I didn’t hear much of anything, other than Jack Russell toenails clicking across linoleum. Then I heard the distinct sound of ripping paper.

  Paper? Where could he have gotten paper? I shrugged. He must be getting his jollies unwinding the toilet paper roll. Annoying, but how much damage could he do with a single role of—

  The realization hit me like a stack of solid bamboo yoga blocks.

  The supply cabinet!

  I tossed the dust mop to the side and threw open the door. The supply cabinet’s door hung open and half off its hinges. Fifty rolls of toilet paper and four eight-packs of paper towels had been shredded to make a bathroom-sized dog nest. The fifth eight-pack of Bounty swam in the toilet where, as advertised, it soaked up significantly more than its weight in water. Toilet paper wrapped around Bandit’s head and under his collar.

  Facial tissue was obviously next on Bandit’s hit list. He was currently making confetti out of box number four.

  Then he spied his escape route.

  Bandit bolted, unwinding three hundred linear feet of bathroom tissue behind him. He made a quick victory lap around the yoga room before jumping on my newly straightened shelves, where he knocked down the basket of yoga straps, grabbed one between his pointy little teeth, and taunted me with it.

  I should have known where this was going, but in my defense, I’d just survived a toilet-paper tornado. How could I possibly be expected to think clearly? I grabbed onto one end of the strap; Bandit gripped the other. He tugged and he growled and he whipped his head back and forth as he tried to get purchase on the slick hardwood floor. I tugged and I growled and contemplated canine homicide.

  “Bandit, let go!”

  I was so caught up in the turmoil that I didn’t hear Michael’s key turn in the lock or the tinkle of the front door’s bell as it opened. I didn’t realize that I had company until Dale’s voice boomed across the room.

  “Kate! What on earth is wrong with you? You shouldn’t rile Bandit up like that!”

  Two things happened at once. Bandit dropped the strap and I gave it one final tug. Bandit flew to Dale’s side, where he skidded to a stop in a perfect sit-stay. I flew through the air and landed on my rear in a not-so-perfect Staff Pose. When I looked up, Dale’s whiskers trembled with righteous indignation. Michael chewed on his lower lip and tried not to laugh.

  “I’m surprised at you, Kate,” Dale scolded. “I thought you and Bella had worked with a dog trainer. Didn’t she warn you about playing tug with a high-strung dog like Bandit? It will take me all night to get him calmed down.”

 
I would have argued with Dale, but what was the point? I was just grateful that he’d actually come back to retrieve the little demon.

  “I’m sorry, Dale. I’m not used to this little guy’s energy. Bella’s a lot more laid-back. Maybe next time you should leave him with Tiffany.” Michael held up his palms and took several steps back. “In her apartment,” I added quickly.

  I dusted the shreds of toilet paper off my pants and prayed that Dale wouldn’t ask to use the bathroom. He’d probably accuse me of trying to suffocate his dog in recycled single-ply. After all, there wasn’t enough water left in the toilet to drown the little bugger.

  “Let’s go talk in the lobby,” I suggested.

  Dale and Michael sat on the bench. I remained standing and tried not to rub my bruised tailbone.

  “Were you able to talk to Dharma?”

  “For a little while, yes.” I could have sworn that Dale blushed behind his beard. “She’s quite the woman, your mother. Did you know she spent several years in Uganda helping to protect endangered mountain gorillas?”

  I didn’t correct his use of the M-word. “What did she say?”

  “Sorry, Kate. I can’t tell you that. Dharma’s and my conversation is bound by attorney-client privilege.”

  “She agreed to let you represent her?”

  Dale’s expression turned serious. “Yes, and I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

  “What you mean?”

  “The DA has a good case, and your mom, well, she’s not exactly acting in her own best interests. First, she blabbed to you in front of the guards, and now she’s hiding something from me. I can’t help her if I don’t have all of the information.”

  Michael smirked. “Get used to it, Dale. Secrecy runs in the family.”

  I didn’t respond to his jibe. To be truthful, I welcomed it. Teasing was Michael’s way of letting me know he wasn’t mad anymore.

  “What’s Dharma hiding?”

  “Well, Miss Kate, if I knew that, we wouldn’t have a problem, now would we?”