Murder Likes It Hot

by Tracy Weber

“What do you mean?”

  “It was found in the alley, right?”

  “Yes. What’s your point?”

  “Whoever left it there had to have known someone would find it. The cash box, I can see. Most of these kids carry everything they own in a backpack, and a cash box that size would be too big to take with them. But why not keep the gun or dump it somewhere far away?”

  “Criminals don’t always behave logically, Kate. From what you’ve told me about Rainbow, I doubt she came here intending to kill anyone. The victim surprised her, and the unthinkable happened. She was probably afraid she’d be caught with the evidence.” She sighed. “Hell, she’s just a kid. She likely planned to come back and pick it up later. She may have assumed that no one would look behind the dumpster.”

  “But we don’t know for sure that Rainbow—”

  “You’re right. We don’t know anything for sure. That’s why we’re collecting evidence.” Martinez stood. “I’m not rushing to judgment here, Kate. We’re still processing the scene. Even if we don’t find anything else relevant—and we almost always do—the gun will likely tell us all that we need. Until then, we wait.”

  I’d never been a fan of waiting, but in this case, time might be on my side. I picked up the box containing Michael’s and my new foster pets. “If it’s okay, I should probably go and get these two guys settled. You know where to find me.”

  “I do.” She pointed her index finger at me and said sternly, “Don’t forget that. And, Kate?”

  “Yes?”

  “I need to talk to that kid. You’ll let me know if she contacts you, right?”

  “Absolutely.” Right after I convince Dale to represent her.

  twelve

  I left the building almost two hours after I’d gone inside. Not surprisingly, Nicole and Hope were gone. A dozen of the center’s teens still huddled around the crime scene tape. They seemed lost. Unsure where to go now that their daytime shelter was off limits. I tried asking them about Rainbow, without much success. Most of them claimed they didn’t know her. All of them said they had no idea where she might be staying.

  I didn’t believe them, or at least not all of them. Rainbow had spent too much time at the center to have made no connections. But these kids didn’t know me, and in their world, trust had to be earned. If I wanted any of the Team Path HOME clients to help me find Rainbow, I’d need to figure out how to make it worth their while.

  Dharma’s voice whispered in my subconscious, Are you sure Rainbow’s the one you’re supposed to be helping?

  It was an excellent question. My mother believed that solving murders was my dharma—my lifework. She claimed I was meant to bring justice to those who couldn’t find it for themselves. Which begged the question: Who needed justice in this case, Rainbow or Gabriel? Admittedly, I hadn’t known Gabriel well, but he’d seemed like a good man. A good man who’d died a violent death, perhaps at the hands of a youth he was trying to help. Rainbow seemed like a basically good kid, too. But I’d cared about basically good kids who’d committed horrendous crimes before. If Rainbow had killed Gabriel, she’d need to atone for her crime. It was the only way she could heal.

  If she hadn’t, however …

  Either way, I had to find out, which meant that Michael and I would have two topics to argue about in the near future: his fostering Ed and Lonnie at the pet store and my getting involved in another murder investigation.

  I figured I might as well tackle the easiest one first. Pete’s Pets only carried dog and cat supplies, so I stopped at a big box pet store and purchased a cage like the one in Gabriel’s office. I hoped that having familiar surroundings would make the little fellows feel more secure. I added an exercise wheel, a bag of bedding, and a box of generic rat kibble. My replacement Visa card hadn’t arrived yet, so I paid for the supplies with a check from my rapidly dwindling checking account. I considered stopping at the drug store for a pregnancy test, but I couldn’t handle any more disappointment. Not today.

  I finished shopping and hurried to the studio, hoping to get Ed and Lonnie settled in at Pete’s Pets before my three o’clock private client. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on your viewpoint—Michael wasn’t there. He’d left Tiffany in charge and gone home to start dinner preparations.

  I’d been looking forward to spending the evening with Dharma and Dale chatting about goats, yoga, and Michael’s and my married life. Now I had a different agenda: convince Dale to represent Rainbow. Dale had helped my loved ones out multiple times in the past. This time my request felt different, though. This time I was asking him to represent a relative stranger. A relative stranger who was also indigent. Even for Dale, it was asking a lot.

  I helped Tiffany clear out a space for Lonnie and Ed’s cage, so busy strategizing the evening to come that I barely noticed her And Baby Makes Three T-shirt. “I don’t know, Tiffany. Are you sure this is the best place for them?” I gestured at the display of cat kibble, litter, and mouse-shaped toys. “Ed and Lonnie will think they’re next on the menu.”

  “It’s like that Alanis Morissette song.”

  I gave her a droll look.

  “You know, ‘Ironic.’ Jeez, Kate, how old are you anyway? I thought for sure you’d get that reference. That song was decades ago.”

  I ignored her and kept talking. “Do me a favor. If Michael calls, don’t let him know about Ed and Lonnie. I’d rather tell him about them myself.”

  Tiffany swiped her hand through the air. “Pshaw. You’re making a cavern out of a rat hole.” She nudged my ribs with her elbow. “Get it?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re a big comedian.” But I smiled in spite of myself.

  “Seriously, Kate, it’ll be fine. Michael’s a big softy, and he adores animals. He’ll love having the little dudes here.” She leaned forward and poked a long, burgundy-painted nail through the wires. Ed nudged it with his nose, then chomped on it.

  Tiffany jumped back, squealing. “He bit me!”

  “It wasn’t a bite; it was a love nibble.” I surreptitiously massaged my earlobe where Ed had chewed on it earlier.

  Tiffany examined her nail. “Do you think he has rabies?”

  “Of course not. He probably thought your fingernail was food.”

  “I don’t know, that bite was pretty hard.” She held her index finger a foot from my eyelids. The nail was missing a rat-bite-sized chunk of paint. “He ruined my manicure.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea to leave them here after all. Michael will have a stroke if a kid gets bitten.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  “Why don’t you take them to your place?” she asked.

  “I have a cat, remember? They wouldn’t survive the night. How about your apartment?”

  “My landlord doesn’t allow pets. Besides, Chad would have a fit. He’s already convinced I’m going to get that toxo-whatever disease from handling cat litter here at the store.”

  “Toxoplasmosis?”

  She nodded.

  “You know you can’t get toxoplasmosis from clean litter, right?”

  “Of course I do. But try telling that to Chad.”

  We negotiated for a while longer, but ultimately I prevailed. When I left, Tiffany was gingerly hand-feeding rat kibble between the cage’s metal bars. The fat little guys snatched each piece from her, then sat on their haunches to consume it. I had a feeling that the next time I saw Tiffany, she’d be sporting a Crazy Rat Lady outfit and Mighty Mouse earrings.

  I taught my private client while firmly set on yoga teacher auto pilot. The instructions I gave her were adequate, but my mind never entered the space. It wandered between Ballard and Teen Path HOME, seeking solutions to unanswered questions. Where was Rainbow? Were Gabriel’s murder and her disappearance connected? Who had taken Rainbow’s drawing and why? What was Gabriel doing at Teen Path HOME in the middle of the night? How did
Rainbow’s gun—it had to be her gun, didn’t it?—end up hidden behind the dumpster?

  By the time I said goodbye to my frustrated-looking student, my energy felt tense; my back, achy. Almost as achy as it did when I started my—

  Oh no. Please God, please let this be a normal backache. Please, this one time, give Michael and me a break.

  The red stain I discovered on my underwear felt almost as lethal as the one I’d seen spread across Gabriel’s chest. No need to spring for a pregnancy test after all. Mighty Katie had struck out.

  I spent the drive home trying to figure out what to tell Michael. A lifetime had passed since we’d said goodbye this morning, and I’d have less than half an hour to fill him in before Dharma and Dale arrived. What was I supposed to say?

  Hi, honey. You’ll never believe the day I had. Remember that guy Gabriel I told you about? Well, he’s sporting a brand spanking new hole in his chest, courtesy of a gun that’s probably covered in my fingerprints. I left you a present—two of them, actually—at the pet store. Oh, and that little bundle of joy we hoped I was carrying? It was all a big joke. One big guffaw from the universe.

  I wiped the backs of my hands across my cheeks. Get it together, Kate. You can’t let Dharma and Dale see you like this.

  I wasn’t sure why I was crying, anyway. I was upset about getting my period, sure, but more than that, I was pissed. I was no Mother Teresa, but I tried to be a good person. I’d always believed that the universe was essentially benevolent. That in the end, life was fair. Yet instead of carrying the baby Michael and I so desperately wanted, I was bleeding into a tampon. Again. Nothing about that seemed fair.

  I wished Dharma and Dale weren’t coming over. I hadn’t seen them in almost six months, and fifteen minutes earlier, I’d been looking forward to their short visit. Now I couldn’t stand the thought of being around anyone, including myself.

  I bathed in my pity party the entire drive home, grateful that at least I’d have a few minutes alone with Michael before they arrived. But damned if that trickster universe didn’t have one more practical joke up its sleeve. When I pulled into the driveway, Dale’s rattletrap orange Plymouth pickup was parked on the street. They were early.

  I put on my game face and snuck in through the door to the kitchen, hoping I could catch Michael alone there. The kitchen was empty, but Michael had obviously been busy. Red lentil beans dotted the floor, interspersed with a snow-like dusting of dried oregano and basil. Papery garlic skins decorated the counter. I ignored the sink overflowing with pots, pans, knives, and cutting boards and took a deep inhale. Freshly baked sourdough.

  Laughter and light conversation floated from the living room. I steeled myself to join the party but stopped, nailed to the floor by a white business envelope Michael had conspicuously left on the table. The reply to our IVF loan application. I slid the folded page out of the envelope.

  Denied.

  Why was I surprised? I wouldn’t have loaned that much money to us either. I grabbed the last clean wine glass, filled it to the top from an open bottle of Cabernet, and joined Dale, Dharma, and Michael in the living room. Michael glanced up from the couch and looked pointedly at my wine glass. His smile didn’t go past his lips.

  “Trying the new red?” His code for no baby again?

  I pasted on an equally rehearsed smile and said, “I figured red would go better with your lentil stew than white.” A pause. “Was that today’s mail on the table?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmmm.”

  We were dancing our new dance. The pretend-nothing’s-wrong waltz. If only we’d stop stepping on each other’s toes.

  Dharma glanced quizzically between us, long gray braid swishing across her shoulders. I wrapped her in a huge hug and said, “It’s wonderful to see you.”

  “You look tired,” she replied.

  “Dharma, you have no idea.”

  Dale leaned forward in the guest chair. “Missy Kate, come give this old boy some sugar, too.” He gestured toward his feet. “I’d come over there and hug you myself, but as you can see, I’m otherwise indisposed.”

  He was referring to Bella, who had draped herself across his work boots. Mouse surveyed us all from the top level of her cat tree. I kissed him on the least hairy part of his cheek. “It’s great to see you, too. It’s been too long.” I glanced around the room, looking for their black-and-white fur child. “Where’s Bandit?” Dale’s precocious Jack Russell Terrier usually went everywhere with him.

  “I left him at the rescue with a dog sitter. I love the little monster, but he’s a troublemaker. Dharma and I are going to be busy this weekend with the farm animal festival. We won’t have time to chase after him.”

  By “farm animal festival,” Dale meant a Friday-through-Sunday fundraising event organized by four of Washington State’s most prominent farm animal rescues, Dale’s Goats and Dharma’s Asses included. This year’s festivities were going to take place in Olympia, Washington’s capital, which was about two hours south of Seattle. The activities ranged from adoption events to goat agility competitions to in-depth classes on farm animal husbandry.

  I appreciated Dale’s subterfuge, but I knew he was lying. Dale hated being away from Bandit as much as I hated being separated from Bella. He’d left him on Orcas because it was safer than trying to keep Bandit and Bella separated. Our two dogs had a love/hate relationship. Meaning that Bandit loved to torture Bella, and Bella hated every hair on his black-spotted body. Bandit might start their inevitable fight, but with their size difference, Bella would certainly win it. I’d been worried about how we could keep the two warring animals safe overnight. Dale must have shared my concern.

  I buried my day’s traumas and dove right into my concerns about Rainbow. “I’m glad we’re all four together tonight. I could use some advice about a friend of mine.”

  A single chime came from the kitchen.

  “That’s the oven timer,” Michael said. “Let’s talk over dinner.”

  When we got to the kitchen, Michael surreptitiously slid the denied loan application under a pile of magazines, then pulled the bread from the oven and cut it into thick, steaming pieces while I told Dharma and Dale about how I’d met Rainbow, her status as a runaway, and Michael’s and my failed attempt to give her shelter the night before. I decided to avoid mentioning Gabriel’s murder, at least to start. Talking about murder would be easier after everyone had downed a couple glasses of wine.

  Michael covered the bread and set it on the table. “I feel terrible about it now, but I told Kate to call the police. I was afraid we’d get in trouble for harboring a runaway.”

  “Your instincts were good,” Dale said. “Anyone who provides shelter to an unaccompanied minor is legally required to contact either the parents or the police within eight hours. Keeping her longer than that would have been a mistake.”

  Michael sighed. “I know. I looked it up online this morning. Still, it was after ten at night when she got here. Would it have killed me to wait until morning? If I’d given that kid a little more time to settle in and trust us, she might be safe right now instead of hiding out on the streets, cold and frightened.”

  “The thing is, she’s in more trouble than you realize.” I took a deep breath. “There’s been a murder.”

  I’m not sure what reaction I expected, but if it was surprise that I’d stumbled into another murder investigation, that’s not what I got. Dale stared at me, expression neutral but interested. Dharma nodded her head approvingly. Michael’s shoulders slumped in a combination of guilt, depression, and defeat. On the plus side, he didn’t chastise me this time.

  I told them about my morning’s expedition to Teen Path HOME. The scene outside, Gabriel’s body, the missing drawing.

  Michael’s eyes grew wide. “The murder victim was Gabriel? As in, Sam’s college roommate Gabriel? Is Sam okay?”

  Dull achin
ess throbbed behind my eyes. I stared at the table and rubbed the crease between my eyebrows. It was a good question. One I should have been able to answer. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not sure he knows yet.”

  “You didn’t call him?”

  “I’ve been so worried about Rainbow, it never occurred to me.” I mentally promised to remedy that after dinner.

  “I wouldn’t be too worried about the teen,” Dale said. “At least not yet. The missing drawing is hardly conclusive evidence.”

  “The police have more than the drawing, though.” I continued my story, ending with the gun the police discovered and why I suspected it belonged to Rainbow.

  Michael’s eyes flashed with anger. “You brought a loaded gun into our house?”

  “It wasn’t loaded, at least not at the time. Besides, I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “There wasn’t anything else to do,” Dharma assured me. “The child needed help.”

  “The police are looking for her?” Dale asked

  “Yes. As far as I know, they don’t have an arrest warrant for her yet, but she’s definitely a person of interest.” I hesitated, trying to broach my true intention carefully. “What would you say to her, if you were her attorney?”

  Dale frowned and raked his fingers through his beard. “The first thing I’d tell her is that running makes her look guilty. I’d encourage her to talk to the police as soon as possible. With counsel present, of course.”

  “Could that counsel be you?”

  Dale pretended to misunderstand my question. “Representing a minor isn’t all that complicated. Any lawyer who’s passed the Washington State Bar Exam could do it.”

  Dharma scowled. “That’s not what Kate means, and you know it. If the girl ends up arrested, will you represent her?” The tone of her voice clearly implied that the only acceptable answer was yes.

  “Don’t you think the child’s parents should be the ones to find her representation?” Dale asked.

  “I don’t think they will,” I replied. “Rainbow’s mother disappeared on a heroin binge three months ago and her stepfather’s a ghoul. As far as I know, she doesn’t have anyone else. She’ll end up with a public defender.”