by Amy Shojai
“So you sent the dog after her? Does he have protection skills?”
“She. Karma is a bitch. And yes, she’s trained for protection.” Lia couldn’t help the pride coloring the words. Maybe he understood more about dogs than she expected. “Karma won’t let anyone but me get close to them. You need me there when you find them.”
He smiled. “Nice try, Lia. But we’ve got our own resources.” He pulled out his phone.
“What? Wait, you have a dog handler?” She’d already talked to Captain Felix Gregory at the Heartland PD and had been assured he’d welcome a trained K9 officer. She’d offered to make Karma available on a contract basis, and he’d approved the notion, pending the dog passed a test from a recognized expert. With an average purchase price of $8000 for a quality dog, plus another $25,000 training fee, most local departments couldn’t afford a K9 unit. The arrangement worked to both their advantages.
“Will your dog stay with the girl? No matter what?” Combs speed-dialed Gonzales.
“Well, yeah. That’s what Karma’s trained to do.” She hoped so, anyway. “Take me along. I won’t get in the way.” Karma’s protective nature could save Mele’s life, especially if the Boss showed up. But it could get Karma shot if she wouldn’t allow the police to rescue the girl.
“Great! If Karma stays with the girl, we’re good.” He spoke into the phone. “Yeah, Gonzales, it’s me. The team is processing the body now. And we’ve got a runner, an underage girl. Fits the profile, too.” He nodded at something Lia couldn’t hear. “Right, and I got tentative confirmation the runner’s Hawaiian. Don’t know yet about the vic.”
Lia interrupted. “Both of them wear matching jewelry. Mele has a heart pendant with plumeria blossoms. Like these.” She showed him her bracelet. “The dead girl’s earrings look the same. It’s a popular Hawaiian flower.”
He mouthed “thanks,” and shared her information. “The dead girl, first name Vicki, may be Hawaiian, too. Right, I’ll get our consultant up to speed, soon as I come in. This could be the break we need.”
Lia stared at the ground, angry she’d be cut out of the hunt for Karma.
“One more thing. The runner has a protection dog with her, a Rottweiler.” He looked at Lia, and grinned. “I know, how convenient is that? Soon as I hang up, I’ll call her.” He disconnected and turned back to Lia. “I happen to know someone with a dog that tracks lost pets.”
“Karma tracks people. She’s going to be a police dog.” The wind tore off her hat and spun it away, swirling her hair free of the elastic band into an amber halo. An acrid scent rode the heavy air, tickling the back of Lia’s throat. Grudgingly she added, “I’ve heard of pet tracking services. Guess that’s good news for Mele.”
“How bad was Mele hurt? That must be from her feet.” He winced, pointed out bloody stains in the grass Lia hadn’t noticed.
“Not that I could see. Her feet weren’t bleeding badly enough to drip red.”
Combs squatted to collect a sample. “Poor kid. That’s gotta hurt.”
“Anyway, that’s where Karma lay. Mele was over there.” She pointed to a spot three feet away, where scuffed dirt and stubbled grass marked the spot. “You’ve got to let me handle Karma when you find them. She’s my dog. I can help, just let me.” She added a final word. “Please.”
He packaged the sample and stood. “We’ll call if we need you.” He gave her his card and made a note of her own cell phone number. “Go home, Lia.”
Lia whirled, grabbed up her hat, and stalked back the way she’d come. For her, the stakes had gone up. She knew the blood wasn’t Mele’s. So it must belong to Karma.
Chapter 36
Karma trotted beside the young girl, panting but not yet feeling the strain of the heat. The sun threw long shadows against the ground. Whispery critter rustling made way when big dog paws and small girl feet crunched through the scorched vegetation.
The new game both puzzled and excited Karma. She knew the Achtung-watch cue, and had practiced with objects before. Other than Lia, she’d never guarded anyone. So Karma shadowed the girl, keeping watch all around as Mele trotted across the field. Karma enjoyed the freedom from the tracking line, and ran back and forth, fast or slow, without the impediment. She felt an odd, new yearning to range far in search of...something, she wasn’t sure what. Maybe she’d discover the elusive something as they raced away from Lia’s structured drills.
They found a paved road. The girl stopped behind a massive tree trunk, and peered around to check both directions. Karma thought that was smart. Cars and trucks ran fast on these smooth paths, faster than a good-dog could run. Karma didn’t want to be chased by a strange car, either. She liked riding inside cars, though.
The girl darted from behind the tree to reach the paved car path. Mele hissed when her feet touched the surface. She hopped and skipped across, and stopped on the far shoulder, sitting for a moment to rub her toes. Karma padded over to her, but didn’t flinch at the superheated asphalt, despite the burn. Her paw pads, extra thick, withstood higher temperatures than bare girl-feet, at least for the short term. Besides, Rottweiler pride pushed Karma to remain stoic during guardian duty. Lia expected no less. She’d trained Karma for this. And Karma wanted more than anything to earn Lia’s “good-dog.” And maybe a treat. Liver would be nice. Bacon would be better.
She paused beside the girl, waited the way a polite dog should, and sniffed the girl’s hand when she placed it on Karma’s neck.
“Nice īlio, good-dog.” Mele pushed to her feet, making a face and hissing between her teeth again. “Boss come, I no go. Okay? You help me, yeah?”
Karma wagged her back end, not understanding the words or caring what Mele said. She recognized “good-dog” and that was enough.
Mele limped from the road. Karma started to follow until the girl held up her hand and made noises the dog understood to mean blieb. So she waited. Karma tipped her big head one way and then the other, watching from the distance when the girl stripped off her tight shorts and squatted.
Karma took the cue and found her own spot to take-a-break. She made the mark more obvious than usual. After finishing, Karma sniffed the spoor, her jaw chattering at the pheromones signaling her state, and then for good measure, she scratched the ground with both front and rear paws. She pretzeled herself to check out and clean herself as well.
Toilet done, Karma waited until Mele stood and adjusted her clothing. Karma was glad dogs didn’t wear clothes. The girl’s tight shorts looked uncomfortable and even hotter than Karma’s short fur coat. The clothes smelled, too, like Mele hadn’t been able to clean herself the way good-dogs did. But Karma relished the aroma. It helped her learn more about the girl, just as Karma’s own scent revealed information to other dogs about Karma. She wasn’t sure why people covered up their self-scent with lotions and perfumes, when people-smell explained so much more.
She bounded to catch up with Mele, and paced beside her. She enjoyed the weight of the girl’s hand when Mele steadied herself against Karma’s broad shoulders. Karma knew that meant the girl trusted her to keep Mele safe, just like Lia did. Some things a dog just knew without being told. Karma was smart that way.
The wind panted hot breath into Karma’s face, and her nose twitched with concern. It smelled bad from a long way off. Not yet scary-bad, but it could get worse. She licked her lips, wishing Lia had shared the drink. When the wind shifted, Karma turned toward the more welcoming aroma—water. A lot of it, with pungent horse scent mixed in.
Mele trudged forward, and stopped when Karma didn’t follow. The girl frowned, but didn’t say anything.
Lia said to watch and guard. That didn’t mean a good-dog must follow. Maybe Karma could lead for a while, and Mele could follow, especially if it meant water. Karma licked her lips again, and continued panting. She needed to tell the girl somehow. With Lia, Karma grasped a pant leg or sleeve and tugged, not as much as the trip game, but enough to explain. Mele, though, had tender, bare girl skin.
; Karma whined, and trotted to the girl and first licked and then mouthed Mele’s wrist.
Alarmed, the girl snatched it back, grabbing it with her other hand. She stumbled backwards, brow furrowed.
So Karma offered a play bow, forelegs stretched out in front of her and butt in the air, wiggling her tail. She whined again, showing she meant no harm.
Mele peeked from beneath a curtain of dark hair and smiled. Karma let her tongue loll out her wide muzzle, and rolled onto her back. She wriggled in the weeds and grass, scratching her back and baring her tummy in an ultimate no-threat display that always made Lia laugh.
The girl laughed, too. Mele reached down to rub Karma’s tummy just the way she liked it. She unhooked the collar where it itched a good-dog’s neck, dropped it in the grass, and scratched Karma until she moaned with pleasure.
Karma rolled over, sprang to her feet and pranced away. She looked over her shoulder, taking several steps toward where the distant water beckoned. She knew Mele couldn’t see or smell the water. People were scent-blind, so a good-dog had to show Mele the way to the water.
“Want to go that a-way? Okay, īlio.” Mele smiled and braced her hand once more on the black Rottie shoulders.
Before they took half a dozen steps, Karma heard the car on the road, and looked back. Would Lia drive them now? Karma liked car rides. She could stick her head out the window and taste the smells riding the wind.
But no, the sound wasn’t Lia’s car. Mele kept trudging forward, so, so, so slow. Cars traveled fast, even faster than good-dogs could run. Even a strange car could take them faster to the water.
Karma licked her lips, and wrinkled her brow when someone climbed out. The car door slammed. Mele whirled, gasped and froze. “Boss?”
“Get your ass back in the car, girl, before the cops see you!”
Mele screamed, and ran.
Chapter 37
Grammy met Lia at the door. “Oh Lia, you’re an absolute mess!” Her nose wrinkled. “And you smell. Dear heavens, girl! You should have been home over an hour ago. I’ve got your party dress picked out. Quickly, run upstairs and put yourself together.” Grammy’s helmet of blond hair, always perfect, matched the understated elegance of her gown and aristocratic features. Cornelia Corazon would look like a queen in sackcloth.
“I can’t stay. I’m sorry Grammy, it’s an emergency.” Lia raced past the tiny woman, and bounded up the stairs. She needed her car keys and overnight gear. Whether Detective Combs authorized her help or not, she had to go after Karma.
Grandfather stood at the top of the stairs. He glowered, blocking Lia’s access to the second floor.
“Let me by, Grandfather.”
“You promised your grandmother, Lia. It’s time to live up to your responsibilities.” More at home on horseback than in a cummerbund, he still cut a dashing figure. One gnarled, work-worn hand stayed her protests. “I know, you’ve got the dog test tomorrow—”
“No, in three days.” She wouldn’t let him shortchange her.
“Okay fine. In three days on Monday. But tonight you keep to your word, and make an appearance. People expect a lot from you, Lia. We expect a lot. Don’t disappoint us.” He stood back, and released her arm to let her pass. His tuxedo, accented with a sterling and turquoise bolo tie and cufflinks, echoed his roots.
Unspoken words, as always, pointed how Kaylia disappointed her family. Lia remained a constant reminder of her mother’s shame.
The Corazon family hosted an annual gala as a way to give back to the community, and as a networking event drawing movers and shakers from all over the state and beyond. Bankers, attorneys, investment brokers and politicians mixed with salt-of-the-earth ranchers and manufacturing executives.
Grandfather gave free tickets to the ranch hands as thanks for their work ethic and loyalty to the Corazon empire. Of course, they knew better than to presume to date Lia. Breeding counted in Grammy’s circle.
“You don’t understand. Karma and I . . .” She debated telling Grandfather about the body. The police had probably already called. Grammy would hate the unsavory nature of the experience. She didn’t understand Lia’s penchant for training “nasty dogs” over “elegant horses.” Worse, though, any mention of Hawaii would set Grandfather off. She didn’t need extra drama when Monday’s deadline loomed near.
Grandfather’s new-found interest in Lia had proved more burdensome than she’d expected. As a child, she’d catch him watching her from a distance, always with a scowl painted on his rugged face. Grammy tried to curtail Lia’s wild streak, setting strict curfews and supervision, and hired home schooling tutors to keep Lia segregated from other kids her age. Lia suspected similar restrictions led to Kaylia’s elopement with a Hawaiian cowboy. She’d never risked saying that to her grandparents, though.
“You’ve known about this for months. Go get ready.” Grandfather clenched an unlit Cuban cigar between his teeth. His signature aftershave always reminded Lia of new-cut hay.
Easier to agree now, make a quick appearance, and duck out later. The gala started at 7:00 but never really got going until 9:30 and would last until the wee hours of the morning. Since police stayed at the dumpsite, she’d go in the back way. The sun set late, and she’d also have the full moon in her favor. That, and Karma’s purple collar. She smiled. A success tonight for Karma could tip the balance in the Rottie’s performance score, and her own. She had to find Karma and Mele before the tracking team did. Besides, she couldn’t wait to see Detective Combs’s face when she trumped the outside expert.
“All right, I’ll get ready.” She brushed past Grandfather on the way to her room.
Lia had no interest in being Grandfather’s “do-over” project. She was no Kaylia, no golden girl to carry on the Corazon family name and traditions. They had to accept she was Apikalia, a Corazon through her mother. But also Hawaiian. Someday she’d find her missing father, whether Grandfather approved or not.
Lia shucked off dingy tracking gear—she’d don them again soon enough—and brushed twigs and sweat out of her hair before she jumped into the shower. The cold spray soothed the bug bites that stippled her skin. After drying, she donned the simple tea-green slip-dress Grammy had chosen. Lia brushed wavy hair until the dark gold tresses spilled past her waist. It was her best feature, and another day she might have left it unbound to float over her bare shoulders. But to save time for the “after party” of tracking, Lia braided and coiled her hair, and fixed it around the crown of her head. She finished with a decorative comb of stylized plumeria blossoms, still wearing the matching baby bracelet she loved.
The bracelet’s dainty flowers framed her name spelled out in tiny individual letters. She’d looked it up. Apikalia meant My Father’s Delight. Someday she’d find her father, whoever he was, and ask if the name was his idea or Kaylia’s choice. And why he’d abandoned them.
Before she stepped into her future, Lia wanted to discover her past. She had a premonition that Karma finding Mele might be a first step in unraveling that mystery.
Chapter 38
Karma squared her shoulders and lowered her head toward the stranger. Her ears twitched backwards as she tracked Mele’s footfalls when the girl raced off across the field. Dogs ran much faster than people, so she could catch up to Mele with no problem.
The problem stood on the road, the one Mele called “Boss.” Karma could smell Mele’s fear-stink in the girl’s wake. Karma must guard Mele until she heard Lia’s release word. She stood solid and proud between Mele and Boss.
Grass higher than a tall dog’s head rattled and shuddered in the hot wind, so tall it hid Boss from view. She couldn’t get a clear sniff either, what with the wind stirring and whipping everything around. Even so, Karma tracked the man’s progress once he stepped off the high paved road, stumbled down the ditch and hitched along through the weed-choked field.
Boss couldn’t see Karma either and didn’t know she stood guard. Boss just shouted hard words at Mele, words a good-dog didn’t need to
understand to know they hurt. If Karma were less brave—and she was very brave, as a good-dog should be—she might be fearful, too. Karma’s job was to be brave despite the fear, and protect people from scary people like Boss. She’d done it before.
At the thought, an impressive bass rumble vibrated deep in Karma’s chest. She stared in the direction of his approach, and raised the volume of her warning. She gathered her haunches, in case he didn’t stop. Muscles tensed and rippled beneath shiny black hide.
“Told you to wait for me.” The man’s strident voice hurt Karma’s ears. “The cops will throw you in prison forever. You won’t like prison. Come with me, girl. I got someone to take you far away, where you’ll be safe.”
Mele yelled back. “Done what you said. An’ you hurt Vicki.”
“Texas kills little girls like you for being wicked.” Boss took another step, and fell, cursing in the weeds. “Get back here! If I got to catch you, it’ll be worse than prison.”
Five more steps and Boss would be within bite-range.
“Go ‘way! You liar. I tell ev’rybody.”
“You little shit—”
Karma bounded forward with a roar, short fur bristling over her shoulders.
“Whoa-whoa-whoa. Where’d you come from?” Boss scrambled backwards, hands out in a warding off gesture. “Dammit, Melanie. Where’d you get that police dog?” His head whipped around, looking for something or someone.
“Not yer business. I got frens better ‘n you fo’ hep.” Mele sing-songed the words. “Īlio, make him go ‘way!”
Growls turned into snarls. Karma stiffened, gathered her haunches again, ready to spring if Boss moved forward. She eyed his forearm, a good bite-hold place Lia taught her to grab. Her tail jerked back and forth with excited anticipation.