by Tracy Weber
Michael’s look invited no argument. “Kate, get Bella out of here.”
His stern tone took me by surprise. Michael was supposed to be on our side. My feelings were hurt, but I’d never show that. Instead, I pretended to be angry. “Bella, let’s go. We’re not welcome here.”
I marched toward the door imperiously. Six steps later, I jerked to a stop. I’d finally hit the end of my rope, or rather the end of my leash. Bella planted her feet, glaring at me accusingly. How could she possibly leave now, when she still had dozens of broken cookies left to eat?
“Don’t even think about it,” I hissed. I summoned superhuman strength and dragged the struggling beast toward the door, past a still-cowering Jake, a smirking Tiffany, and a now-laughing Michael, who had evidently rediscovered his sense of humor.
“I’ll come over later,” Michael said, flashing a crooked smile.
“Don’t bother,” I grumped. “We’re not interested.”
I stomped out the door, pulling Bella behind me. “So much for that relationship, Bella,” I said as the door closed behind me. “Anyone who takes Jake’s side over ours is history.”
_____
I shoved Bella in the car and skulked back to the studio, determined not to cry. How could Michael choose Jake over me? The Yoga Over Fifty class was still leaving, so I hid in the bathroom and tried to pull myself together before Alicia’s appointment. I adored Alicia, but she was the last person I wanted to see. Lord only knew what I’d say if she started mooning over Jake.
The prior class’s instructor yelled through the door. “I’m on my way home. Talk to you later, Kate!” I looked at my watch. Almost eleven o’clock. I couldn’t hide in here much longer; Alicia would arrive in five minutes.
I willed myself to let the past hour fade away. Rationally, I knew the morning’s events had nothing to do with Alicia, and my rational mind would prevail. I would be calm, balanced, and strong. My professional behavior would be an example to yoga teachers everywhere. A couple of deep breaths, and I was ready.
I took one look at Alicia and burst into tears.
“That odious girl was at the front desk. And then Bella tried to attack Jake … never wanted a stupid dog anyway … and Michael’s a big jerk, no better than the rest of them … but now I’ll never go out with him again. And George really was a criminal … and—”
Alicia wrapped me in a great big hug. “Whoa, Kate, hold on there! I’ve never seen you like this! Slow down now.” She stepped back and gazed in my eyes, as if hypnotizing me into a greater state of calm. “Slow down your breathing, like you’ve taught me to do.” I swallowed hard and tried to stop sobbing. “That’s it,” Alicia continued, “take a nice, deep inhale and feel peaceful energy enter your system. Exhale, and let all of your frustrations go.”
I was horrified. I’d never broken down this way in front of a client. I swallowed back the rest of my tears in several uneven, hiccupping gulps. “Oh my God, Alicia. I’m so very sorry. How completely unprofessional.” I wiped the tears off my chin.
“Truly, it’s OK.” Alicia handed me a tissue. “Just goes to show that you’re human like the rest of us.”
“This all happened so recently, but I’m supposed to be more professional than that.” I groaned. “And on top of it all, Jake’s your husband. Please, please forgive me. I’m exhausted, but that’s no excuse. This session is on me. Maybe I should even pay you. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alicia interrupted. “Haven’t you told me at least a dozen times that I need to let my emotions out every now and then? You’re no different. You’ve been a rock for me these last few months; maybe it’s time to return the favor.” She gestured to the lobby. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
Alicia poured me a glass of water. I gratefully gulped it down, allowing the cool liquid to soothe my aching throat.
“First of all,” Alicia began, “forget about Jake. He’s terrified of dogs, so I’m sure he was upset, but he’ll get over it.” She sat down beside me. “There was no harm done, so what’s he going to do anyway? Sue you for scaring away his manhood? He’s probably already forgotten about the incident, so let it go. It’s over and done with.”
I sincerely doubted Jake had forgotten anything, but Alicia had a point. Bella had created a scene, but she only damaged Michael’s displays, Jake’s ego, and my pride. All could theoretically be repaired.
“Second, so what if you and your new beau had a tiff? You know the best thing about fights between lovers? Making up is so very much fun.” She grinned. “Put your silly pride behind you, give him a call, and apologize.”
“But it’s not my fault that Bella—”
She held up a stern hand. “Hush, Kate. I’m talking now. You’re listening.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words. “Who cares who’s at fault? Call up your guy and make nice. By tomorrow, all of this will be behind you.
“Third,” she continued, “you’re a saint for taking in that dog. But even saints have their limits. You have to do something about her.”
“But there’s nothing I can do!” I argued. “No one else will take her.”
“That may be true, but you don’t have to put up with her erratic behavior, either. Hire a trainer.”
I vigorously shook my head. “I already tried that. Too violent.”
“Come on, Kate, you’re smarter than that. Is all yoga the same?”
“No, of course not, but—”
“Well, neither are dog trainers. Their methods vary as much, if not more, than yoga teachers.” Alicia opened her purse and pulled out a cell phone. “One of my Magnolia tenants trains dogs. I’ve seen her in action, and her methods are far from violent.” She wrote down the number. “Her name’s Melissa. Tell her Alicia from The Cedars sent you. She books pretty far in advance, but maybe I can pull some strings and get her to squeeze you in.”
“Thanks, but—”
“Shush,” she interrupted. The sound reminded me of Jim, that odious trainer, and the sound he used to quiet his barking dogs. It was surprisingly effective. I shushed.
“You’ll call Melissa today, correct?”
I nodded my head yes.
“Good. Finally, and this is important. It’s time for you to forget about that murder. The police are completely capable of handling a murder investigation, and frankly, playing amateur detective is driving you crazy. I know the victim was your friend and all, but do you honestly think you’re better equipped to solve a murder than the entire Seattle Police Department?”
“Maybe not, but—”
“Let the murder go, Kate,” Alicia said emphatically. “Stick with what you’re good at—yoga. If your new relationship is supposed to work out, it will. If not, you’ll move on. The rest is simply a distraction.” She stood up. “You always say I should focus on my most important priorities. Well, Kate, it’s time to practice what you preach. I’ll focus on beating my disease. You focus on getting your life back together. That’s an order.”
I stared off into space for a moment, thinking. Now that I’d had a good cry, I felt better. And I had to admit that Alicia was right—at least for the most part. I stood up, smiled at her, and threw my tear-stained tissue in the trash. “Understood.”
Alicia had given me four pieces of advice: forget about Jake, make up with Michael, call her trainer friend, and drop the investigation.
I figured listening to three out of four wasn’t bad.
_____
I called Melissa later that afternoon. Alicia made good on her promise and pulled those magic strings. Although Melissa normally had a month-long waiting list, she agreed to squeeze in an appointment for Bella the following weekend. Even better, she insisted that we meet at my house, so she could interact with Bella in her normal environment.
Score! No forty-five-minute commute! Things were definitely looking up. And they got
better. Around three o’clock, Michael appeared at my door.
“Hey, I’m sorry about getting so angry earlier,” he said as he sheepishly entered the lobby. “I got caught off-guard. First I was shocked at the mess; then I saw Jake hiding behind the desk. I can’t afford to make him mad. Jake hates dogs, and he’d love to find an excuse to kick Pete’s Pets out of the complex. When I saw him cowering behind the chair, I overreacted.”
“I’m sorry, too.” I smiled. “That whole catastrophe was my fault. I really should have known better than to take Bella in with me.” I picked up my billfold. “How much do I owe you for the damage?”
“Forget about it.” Michael replied, smiling. “That’s the least of my worries. Tell you what. Let’s make it up to each other over drinks tonight. How about nine-thirty?”
I felt a familiar flutter low in my belly—and a few other body parts I don’t care to mention. “Sounds perfect. It’s a date!”
I spent the rest of the day literally whistling while I worked. I took Bella home during my dinner break and freshened up. Today was going to be a great day. It was Kate’s day. If I was lucky, Kate’s night would involve an overnight guest.
Michael arrived at nine-thirty on the dot.
“Hey there,” I said. “Ready for our hot date?”
“You bet!” He raised his eyebrows and grinned. The Cheshire Cat couldn’t have been cuter.
“Give me a second to lock up,” I said, grabbing my keys. “There’s a new wine bar in Ballard I’ve been dying to try. Do you mind if I drive?”
I didn’t really lie. True, I’d been to that wine bar twice before, but never on a Friday. And the fact that it was within walking distance of my house was simply a bonus. No self-respecting yoga teacher would ask a guy to spend the night on the second date, but she could always stack the deck in her favor, couldn’t she?
We headed out to the parking lot, hand in hand. I walked Michael to the passenger side of my car. “Allow me to get the door for you, sir,” I said, bowing and using my most chivalrous voice.
Michael pulled me close.
“Uh, Kate, hang on a second. Do you see that?”
Unfortunately, I did. So much for Kate’s night.
My driver’s side window was shattered. I carefully opened the door, picked up the rock on the seat, and read the attached note.
“Stay out of it. Or you’ll be next.”
twenty-two
“This can’t be happening again,” I moaned into my hands. The patrol car’s pulsating lights shattered the darkness, like flashes of memory best left forgotten. I spoke with detectives Martinez and Henderson through a PTSD-like haze.
“Thank you for coming. I asked the officer to call so you could see for yourself. You may not have believed me before, but this note proves I’m right. I’m getting close.”
Martinez looked at me warily. “Close to what?”
“Close to solving George’s murder.”
Henderson frowned. “It’s just a broken window, ma’am, not a professional hit.” He handed the note to Martinez. “But you’re right about one thing: it does look like someone isn’t too happy with you. Any idea who that might be?”
“Of course not,” I snapped. “If I knew who did this, I would have told you already.” I immediately regretted my tone; arguing would get me nowhere. I took a deep breath and ratcheted my attitude back a notch. “But it has to be George’s murderer, or at least someone involved with his death.”
“That’s quite a stretch, ma’am,” Henderson replied. “Vandalism like this happens all the time. Probably some kids having their version of a fun night out on the town.”
“But you will take a closer look at George’s murder, won’t you?” I turned to Martinez. “Here, look at this. While I was waiting for you, I wrote down everyone I’ve questioned about the case so far. The answer is bound to be in there somewhere.”
She scanned the paper, frowning. “I’ll add this information to the murder book, but we’ve already talked to most of these people—although this ‘Momma Bird’ character doesn’t sound familiar.” She folded the list and placed it in her notebook. “Look, Kate,” she said soberly. “I’ll admit that this vandalism is suspicious, but the note isn’t exactly specific. Detective Henderson is right. It was probably some kids getting their kicks.”
“Why would kids leave a note like that?”
She shrugged. “Who knows why teenagers do half the things they do?”
“You can’t ignore—”
“Kate,” she interrupted sharply, “I promise we’ll look into this.” The two detectives exchanged a knowing look. “But don’t get your hopes up.”
“But you have to—”
She held up her hand in the universal stop sign. “I said I’ll look into it.”
I didn’t respond—at least not verbally. Martinez and I faced each other in mutual aggravation, our prickly silence so charged a stray spark would have ignited it.
“In the meantime,” she continued, “my advice is to go home, call your insurance company, and get some sleep.” She pointed at the broken glass littering my Honda’s interior. “Do you need a ride home, or can your friend here take you?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got her,” Michael replied.
The patrol car drove off twenty minutes later, leaving Michael and me to sweep up the glass and cover my missing window. An hour ago I’d been excited about the evening ahead. Now I wanted to crawl into bed, pull the sheets over my head, and forget the entire day ever happened. I collapsed in the passenger seat of Michael’s Explorer, so weary my bones ached. “Not exactly the hot date we had planned, was it?”
“Not exactly,” he said soberly. “But at least now maybe you’ll see reason.”
Uh-oh. My stomach tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe now you’ll take everyone’s advice and stay out of this murder investigation.”
Adrenaline flooded my system, replacing exhaustion with agitation. “Are you kidding? Martinez was the closest thing to an ally I had on George’s case. If she’s convinced the note was left by some prankster teen, then my car was damaged for nothing! You all may think I’m delusional, but that note proves I’m not. I’m getting close, and someone doesn’t like it.”
Concern and irritation vied for dominance on Michael’s face. “So what if you are getting close? George’s killer obviously isn’t afraid to use violence. What do you hope to accomplish by provoking him? Do you want to get yourself hurt—or worse?”
“No, but—”
“You’re out of your league here, Kate. At best, you’re making a fool of yourself. At worst, you’re risking your life. I know it’s not your strong suit, but see reason for once.”
I went from agitated to furious in three seconds flat. Michael didn’t know it, but he had just declared war. “Reason’s not my strong suit, huh?” I hissed. “Well, evidently not. If I were reasonable I’d never have agreed to go out with you.”
Michael winced, surprised by my outburst. “Come on, don’t be that way. I’m trying to protect you.”
The last person who’d tried to protect me was my father. I didn’t appreciate it from him then, and I liked it even less from Michael now. In a weird flash of insight, I remembered my Aunt Rita. She used to refer to her monthly cycle as “the curse.” Now, glowering at Michael, I knew she was wrong. If God cursed woman, it was by forcing her to live with the testosterone-driven beast called man.
It was high time woman fought back.
My words spewed out like venom. “I’ve lived without you and your big, strong, manly presence for thirty-two years, and I’ve managed to survive just fine.” I crossed my arms and glared, daring Michael to reply.
He answered with echoing silence. He set his jaw, stared straight ahead, and drove. We both quietly seethed for the ten-minute drive home. After wh
at felt like ten hours, he pulled into my driveway, parked the car, and turned to face me.
Michael spoke slowly and sternly, as if scolding an obstinate child. “Kate, let me be very clear about this. You will not continue this murder investigation, under any circumstances. I forbid it.” Michael’s words were unequivocal, not to be challenged. He was man. He was in charge. He expected no argument.
He was an idiot.
“You forbid it?” I shouted. “What are you, a Neanderthal? What next? Are you going to hit me over the head and drag me off to your cave?”
Michael opened his mouth, but remained speechless. That was fine by me—I wasn’t finished. “If you think you can waltz into my life and start giving me orders, you are sorely mistaken.”
I jumped out of the car, then leaned back in to give Michael one final message. “Take your big, macho self and your jumbo-sized ego and drive on out of here, mister. No one tells me what to do.” I slammed the door and stomped away.
Michael followed, practically chasing me to the house. “Kate, wait,” he yelled to my back. “I’m sorry. That came out horribly wrong. I’m just worried about you!” He grabbed my arm. I yanked it back and kept walking.
“Slow down!” he pleaded. “You can’t march off in a huff every time we disagree. Let’s talk this through.”
I spun around to face him with a defiant grin. “That’s the beauty of being single, Michael. I can do anything I want. Now get off my property before I call the police for the second time tonight.”
I stomped into the house and slammed the door. The deadbolt turned with a satisfying click. “Bella, I’m home!” I yelled in a voice loud enough to be heard by Michael or anyone else stupid enough to still be standing on my porch. “We were wrong. This one’s a dud like all the rest. Too bossy.”
I turned off the exterior lights. If Michael was still out there, he could feel his way back to the car. I completed my diatribe by releasing Bella from her crate, marching upstairs, and flopping on the bed. Bella jumped up after me, looking concerned. I lay there for several minutes, congratulating myself on my clear victory.