Karma's a Killer

by Tracy Weber

  Alicia asked the maintenance manager to sweep up the glass and cover my car window with plastic. She and I huddled in front of the computer monitor in the apartment complex office, examining the past hour’s security footage. Bella explored the rest of the office, checking out her new territory. She finally lay down between us.

  “I still can’t believe someone was stupid enough to break into your car with Bella inside. What did they think she would do? Say hello?”

  Bella responded to the familiar command by standing up and offering Alicia her paw.

  Alicia ignored her and continued fast-forwarding through the footage.

  “I’m surprised no one saw or heard anything,” I said.

  “The garage is empty this time of day. Most of the residents work weekdays.” She pointed at the screen. “I think these are our prowlers.”

  We watched the grainy video as two ski-masked individuals—a female in jeans and a male dressed in black—moved into camera range. The male carried a knapsack. The female tried both car door handles in a futile attempt to open them. Bella watched with interest, but she didn’t bark.

  Alicia frowned. “Is Bella always that laid-back?”

  “No,” I replied. “Not at all. Bella is very territorial.” I drummed my fingers on the desktop. “This doesn’t make any sense. For some reason, she doesn’t see them as a threat.”

  The female turned toward the male, said something, and shrugged.

  “Do you have sound?” I asked.

  Alicia shook her head no.

  We silently watched as the scene continued to unfold. I didn’t need sound to know the two strangers were arguing, or at least the agitated-looking female was. The male seemed to be largely ignoring her. He reached into his bag and pulled out a metal tire iron. As he leaned forward, I noticed his shirt—or, more specifically, the logo embroidered on the front of it.

  “Pause that for a second, would you?” I pointed to the screen. “What does that look like to you?”

  Alicia squinted her eyes. “I don’t know. Fire, maybe?”

  “That’s what I think, too.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “These people are from HEAT.” Not-so-nonviolent thoughts raced through my mind. “I think that jackass is trying to free my dog.”

  Alicia started the video again.

  The man raised the tire iron, but the woman stepped in front of him, blocking him from my car window. She must have said something that got his attention, because he nodded and lowered his arms. She jogged to the opposite side of the car.

  Wait a minute …

  I leaned closer to the screen, frowning. I recognized that wiggle. Come to think of it, I recognized the fit of those tight jeans, too.

  Alicia must have sensed my tension. “Kate, what is it? Do you know them?”

  The growl in my voice sounded more threatening than Bella’s. “Keep playing the tape.”

  Everything that followed seemed to happen simultaneously. The female slipped something that looked suspiciously like a heart-shaped dog cookie through the crack in the driver’s-side window. Pointy German shepherd teeth reached up from the back seat and snatched it from her fingers. The man raised the tire iron over his shoulder and swung.

  I knew what was about to happen, but I still couldn’t watch. I turned away and involuntarily squeezed my eyes shut. When I glanced back at the video, broken glass littered the garage floor. Blood dripped from the man’s fingers.

  Alicia shook her head. “Some animal rights activists. Don’t they know how dangerous that was for Bella?”

  The man reached through the now-broken window and unlocked the doors. The female opened the door on her side, grabbed Bella, and pulled.

  Bella didn’t move.

  I reached down and scratched Bella’s neck. “Good girl.” The man moved to the driver’s side of my car, reached underneath the steering wheel, and popped open the trunk. Then he shoved his friend to the side, grabbed Bella’s collar, and yanked. Hard.

  Bella finally reacted.

  She roared out of the car, landed on the man’s chest, and knocked him to the ground.

  The man did the most stupid thing he could do, given the circumstances.

  He ran.

  Bella ran faster. She grabbed onto the prowler’s pant leg, gripped the loose cloth, and jerked her head violently back and forth. I prayed her teeth only ripped denim. Seattle had the toughest dangerous dog laws in the nation; a damaging bite might not end well for Bella, justified or not.

  The woman grabbed Bella’s collar and dragged her off the man. He scooped his bag off the ground and scrambled out of camera range.

  He must have kept running, because a few seconds later Bella went into a perfect sit and nudged the woman’s hand, as if expecting a treat.

  When Alicia turned toward me, she wore a confused expression. I’m pretty sure mine was homicidal.

  “I don’t get it,” she said.

  My lips pressed into a tight line. “I think I do.” And if I was right, someone was going to die.

  If she was lucky.

  The female led Bella back to my car, pulled off her mask, and glanced up at the camera. She leaned in close to Bella’s face and gave her the palms-up hand signal for the command “stay.” I would have sworn she was crying. Not that I gave a damn.

  Alicia slowly turned toward me, wearing the same shocked expression I would have worn in her circumstances. I kept my eyes glued to the video.

  On screen, Bella watched the female walk out of camera range, then crawled into the back seat and sat on the floorboard, right where I’d found her.

  Some prisoner.

  Alicia broke the silence. “Do you want me to call the police?”

  “Not yet. First I need to call Michael and find out if he has someone else who can manage Pete’s Pets while he’s out of town. Then you should probably call 911 and report a murder. I’m about to strangle Tiffany.”

  Seventeen

  By the time I got back to the studio, Michael had left three messages on my machine. Evidently, Tiffany had already contacted him, and for some unfathomable reason he was taking her side.

  By the final message, his voice sounded frantic. “Kate, I know you’re furious, but don’t do anything rash. Call me before you get the police involved. We’ll figure out some way to fix this. Remember, we were both young and stupid once, too.”

  Speak for yourself, traitor.

  I took several long, cleansing breaths and tried to calm myself, to no avail. I picked up the phone to return Michael’s message, but quickly set it back down again. Calling Michael right now would result in nothing but trouble. I was balanced on an emotional tightrope above two dark abysses: on my right side, fury at Tiffany; on my left, disappointment in Michael. The best I could manage was to ease down the wire one tenuous step at a time.

  The first of those steps was calling Rene. I knew I’d see her in my afternoon prenatal class, but I needed her help before then. I asked if she could come by early and lend me her car for a few days. She said yes to both, though since she had a twelve-thirty doctor appointment she couldn’t come as early as I’d hoped. But she promised to drive straight from her doctor’s office to Serenity Yoga. That way we could get Bella out of the studio before the other prenatal students started arriving.

  Which meant that I had to keep Bella safe until around two o’clock.

  My lovely, traumatized girl was currently on guard duty, watching the front entrance so she could chase away evil yoga student intruders. I checked the afternoon’s class schedule. Yoga for Men started at noon.

  Fabulous.

  In the past twenty-four hours, Bella had lived through a home invasion, a car prowl, and an attempted dognapping. Her adrenaline and cortisol levels had to be through the roof, which would make her even more reactive than normal. On a good day,
Bella often didn’t like men, particularly if they had facial hair. Having her in the studio with a bunch of male strangers—especially today—would be inviting disaster. Classes would have to be cancelled until Bella left the building.

  I put up the Closed sign and started making phone calls.

  By the time I finished notifying students thirty minutes later, Michael had left two more messages. I couldn’t put off talking to him any longer, but I needed to steady my emotions first.

  I took a deep breath. Then I counted to ten. Then I mentally chanted Om Santi, the Sanskrit mantra for peace. In spite of it all, my hands were still shaking when I dialed his cell number.

  He didn’t even say hello.

  “Kate, Tiffany is an idiot. She screwed up and she knows it, but we can handle it. We don’t need to call the police.”

  “Yes, she’s an idiot. I’ve always known it, but now I have proof—on video. That little blonde bimbo could have seriously hurt Bella today.” I frowned. “Speaking of which, what kind of dog owner are you? You don’t even ask about Bella?”

  Michael’s voice softened. “Bella’s okay, right? Tiffany told me that she hid near the car to make sure Bella was safe until you found her.”

  I pulled out the desk chair and sat down with a heavy thud.

  “Yes, Bella’s fine, but she could have easily been cut. And whether Little Miss Boob Job played hide-and-seek or not, she’s still a criminal. She broke into my car. She might have broken into our home.”

  A mechanical voice said the words “code blue” in the background—the same ominous words that echoed around me the night my father died.

  Ease up, Kate.

  I closed my eyes and consciously relaxed my grip on the handset. If Michael was still at the hospital, he was dealing with issues much more serious than a broken car window. No need to make it worse.

  I eased the irritation out of my voice. “How’s your father?”

  “He’s still in ICU, but he’s doing better. Mom and Shannon are with him now. Look, about Tiffany. She told me what happened with your car, or at least her version of it. She said that she didn’t break the window, and she claims that she doesn’t know anything about what happened to our house.” Michael paused, as if first registering my earlier words. “Wait a minute. Did you watch the video?”

  “Yes, and you should have seen—”

  “Slow down for a second and hear me out. That tape may verify what Tiffany told me. She said she was with Dharma’s friend Eduardo, and that he smashed your window. She claims she tried to stop him.”

  “Eduardo. I knew it was someone from HEAT, but I wasn’t sure who. Now I know who’s next on my hit list.”

  Michael ignored my editorial comment and kept talking. “Eduardo told Tiffany that Bella was being abused and that he was going to take her somewhere safe. He said that he needed Tiffany’s help to get her out of the car—that Bella would be less traumatized if she left with someone she knew.”

  I took the phone away from my ear and gaped at the receiver.

  Bella? Abused?

  I was angry before. Now I was livid. “That little bleached-blonde tramp is conning you, Michael.” I stood up and paced, stomping to the end of the phone cord and back again. “Tiffany knows we would never hurt Bella.”

  Michael’s reply sounded frustrated. With me. “Of course Tiffany knows we wouldn’t hurt Bella. That wasn’t the point. From her perspective, this little escapade was never about Bella.”

  “Look, Michael, I know you had a long night, but seriously. How sleep-deprived are you? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Don’t you get it? Tiffany wanted to score points with a cute guy.” Michael took a deep breath. “Think about it, Kate. You lock your car doors. Always. And you never leave the windows open far enough that someone could reach in. Tiffany knows that. She thought Eduardo would try your doors, see they were locked, and walk away. She had no idea he was going to break a window.”

  “How did this Eduardo guy know Bella was in my car, anyway? Tiffany must have told him.”

  “I asked her the same thing. Tiffany says Eduardo came by the store to see her. He drove into the parking garage before he noticed the Permit Parking Only sign. When he pulled next to your car to turn around, he saw Bella.”

  I stopped pacing and wrapped the phone cord around my index finger. Michael kept talking.

  “He showed up at the store, all worked up about seeing an ‘abused’ German shepherd. Tiffany told him the dog was yours and that you kept her in your car regularly. It was all a game to her, Kate. She knows Bella is perfectly safe in the garage. She was scamming him, hoping to get a date. She had no idea how it was going to turn out.”

  I ignored Michael’s lame justifications, pulled out a pad of paper, and started making a to-do list.

  1.Send flowers to Michael’s father.

  2.Call insurance company.

  3.Slaughter Tiffany.

  I crossed out the first two and circled the third.

  Michael’s voice continued pleading with me through the phone line. “Kate, at least tell me this: does Tiffany’s story match what you saw on the videotape?”

  It did, of course, but I didn’t care. I added a doodle of Satan and wrote Tiffany’s name underneath it. “You should see the damage that little tramp and her friend did to my car. She can’t whine to you because she got caught and ask for a ‘get out of trouble free’ card.”

  Michael sighed. “She’s not going to get off free, Kate. We’ll make her work off the damage. Hon, she feels terrible. That’s why she confessed. She kept an eye on Bella until you and Alicia showed up, but as soon as she knew Bella was safe, she called and told me what happened.”

  “If she feels so awful, why didn’t she call me herself? Or better yet, come get me.”

  “She’s scared of you, Kate.” He paused. “Hell, I’m a little scared of you sometimes. And you have to admit, you’re part of the problem. You egg Tiffany on every chance you get.”

  I set my pen on top of the pad and pushed them both away. “Why are you so worried about this, anyway? If I turn her in, she’ll get a slap on the wrist. It might do her good to put in a few hours of community service.”

  Michael didn’t reply. For several long moments, the only sounds that came through the phone line were the tinny announcements of the hospital’s PA system.

  “Michael, answer me. Why are you taking Tiffany’s side?”

  When Michael finally spoke, his voice sounded hesitant. “Promise me that you won’t get all judgmental.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m a yoga teacher. I’m very open-minded.”

  “Uh huh.”

  Was that sarcasm?

  Michael exhaled a resigned sigh. “Okay, Kate, but you can’t tell anyone. Promise?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll keep an open mind, but other than that, no promises. Out with it.”

  “Tiffany has a record.”

  “A record?”

  “Nothing major, just stupid kid stuff. Drugs, shoplifting, that sort of thing. She was a juvenile for her first two arrests, but she was nineteen the last time. She spent six months in jail.”

  I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “When did you learn about this?”

  “She told me when she applied for the job. She’d been clean for eight months, and she was almost done with probation. She needed work, and no one would hire her.”

  “So you did?”

  “Sometimes people are worth second chances, Kate. You, of all people, should know that.”

  I knew what he was referring to, of course. Michael had given me more than one chance, too. He had a good heart. It was one of the many things that I loved about him. It was also his greatest weakness.

  “Tiffany will go to jail again if we get the police involved. It might ruin her f
uture.” I imagined him lacing his fingers together in the Begging-Boyfriend Mudra. “Please, Kate. We can find another way to teach her a lesson. You can make her clean the yoga studio for a decade, if you want.”

  I shuddered. “Tiffany breaks into my car, and then I have to hang out with her in the yoga studio? Why am I the one getting punished?”

  “This is an opportunity to do something good.” Michael’s voice carried a grin. He was winning the argument, and he knew it. “Tiffany isn’t as bright as you are, and she’s easily influenced, especially by men. Eduardo took advantage of her, and frankly, your attitude toward her didn’t help. The rivalry between you two isn’t all her fault. You know that.”

  Michael’s points were all valid, unfortunately. “What about Eduardo? He gets off free, too?”

  “I don’t know yet, Kate. I haven’t worked out all of the details.” I heard someone speak in the background. Michael’s voice grew softer. “I’ll be right there.” He came back on the line. “The doctors are about to go in and see Dad. I should be there. Hopefully I’ll be back in Seattle in a couple of days. Can you hold off on getting Tiffany into trouble until then?”

  I would have countered that Tiffany had gotten herself into trouble, but I didn’t think it would make any difference.

  “You trust Tiffany’s story?” I asked.

  “I do. Tiffany doesn’t know it, but I watched her like a hawk for the first six months after I hired her. I even installed a nanny cam. I went over the money every night. She’s never been off by a penny. She’s made some mistakes, but she’s a good kid.”

  I’d already lost the argument, and I knew it. Truth be told, I didn’t want to spend my afternoon filing police reports anyway. I still had to figure out what I was going to do about Dharma. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

  “I suppose you think Tiffany should move in with us, too?”

  I swore I could hear Michael wink. “Only if you don’t behave yourself.”

  I crumpled up my Demon Tiffany doodle and tossed it in the recycle bin. “All right, you win. I’ll wait until you come back. But Tiffany had better stay out of my way until then. I might coldcock her before I can stop myself.”