by Traci Hall
She’d covered Lucky’s cage, but the bird lived on the balcony most of the year round. Dressing in her running shorts and sports tank, tying her sneakers, she leashed Princey up and prepared to run with the dog, uncovering Lucky before she went.
“Pretty bird,” Lucky said with a spread of his white feathers.
“Yes, you’re a pretty bird.” And not at all vain, she thought with a laugh. Kind of reminded her of the younger Santos partner. All fluff.
Princey was not a bad runner, but terribly out of shape. By the time they reached the end of the shaded block, he was huffing and had to drink out of the fountain in front of another hotel, forcing his large body in as much as he could.
“You’re gonna get us in trouble,” she chided, looking around to make sure nobody saw them. After a five minute break that did nothing for her heart rate, she started a fast walk home. She decided to cut through the back way rather than traipse muddy paw prints across the tile of the condominium.
“This way,” she said, passing through a hedge of sea grape toward the back entrance. The ocean spread before her, as far as they eye could see. It reminded her of her younger days and running around the island of Molokai as if she owned it.
Nobody knew the caves like she and Paolo. Or could hike the trails, or swim with the whales in the bay. The ocean provided life giving sustenance. Her father fished, her mother collected shells and made jewelry. There were a few memories that were good.
She turned her back on the water, tugging at Princey’s leash. He, however, had spotted something more interesting, and was straining toward the ocean.
“Princey,” she said in her stern voice.
He ignored it, pulling with more force as if the spiked collar was really not a deterrent at all, and he’d just been fooling them. He gave one more lunge and the slippery grip she’d had on the leash let go.
Princey ran as fast as a giant, old, Saint Bernard could go. Still, K didn’t catch him until he’d knocked over a woman on a yoga mat, and was sitting on another person who had been caught unaware.
“No dogs on the beach,” the woman snarled, her Zen totally zapped.
The yoga instructor, an older Asian gentleman with a superb physique and a braided goatee, asked for quiet.
Mortified, she apologized to the three other people and dragged backward on Princey’s collar.
There was Joe, laughing his ass off. “This is why dogs aren’t allowed on the beach. They just run up and lick everybody. Morning, K. Glad you changed your mind about joining us.”
The angry woman sputtered.
Princey ambled toward the instructor with his long, pink drooling tongue, but the master Yogi gave the dog a look that had him sitting like an angel.
“Can you teach me to do that?” she asked him.
“Come back tomorrow,” he said, his mouth unsmiling. “Without the dog.”
K took Princey home without the slightest whimper. He’d gotten to say hello to his friend Joe and make some new friends too. Yes, it was embarrassing that she’d lost control of the beast, but she couldn’t count it as all bad. Joe, bare-chested and wearing loose, white linen yoga pants that settled low on his hips, was a beautiful sight.
*****
Joe finished the class and wasn’t surprised when the woman who’d gotten so mad left early. The instructor complimented him on his dog and wife.
“No, no,” Joe said. “That wasn’t my dog. Not my wife. We aren’t even dating.” Did it count that they wanted to have sex like rabbits?
The instructor smiled and nodded as if he knew something Joe didn’t. “See you tomorrow,” he said, gathering his reed mat before Joe could question him further.
Kay said she didn’t believe in fate, or destiny. He wasn’t so sure. He’d felt something when they’d touched in the ocean, when they’d made eye contact. When they’d kissed it was ten times the best kiss he’d ever had.
How could she not feel it?
He decided to run along the beach, stretch his muscles in a different way. The yoga allowed his mind to quiet, something that had never happened before.
He could look at the things in his past without them being so painful he immediately blocked them. His friend’s death, the things he’d done that weren’t so nice for the sake of winning in the end. It hurt, yes, but he handled it. Acknowledged what was, and moved on.
As he ran, he connected with the soft, wet sand beneath his feet. The water to his left, the hotels and condos to his right. Pelicans swooped down to catch fish from the sea, and seagulls chased crabs between incoming waves.
Growing up playing a badass teen willing to do, sell, or manufacture drugs, Joe didn’t have time to connect with people his own age that weren’t in the drug scene. He was one of the good guys, but the line blurred when you were doing the same shit as the bad guys—leading them down a certain road until they were caught, then you were expected to kick your bad habits until the next time around.
Getting out of the hospital a year ago had allowed him to start with a clean slate. No more hard drinking or smoking. He had the occasional couple beers, but for the first time in his life, he was encouraged to be healthy. He wanted a relationship that mattered, and Kay was the first woman to make his body, mind and heart take notice.
Joe sprinted the last quarter mile down the sand, sweat beading his entire body. The ocean spray kept him from getting too hot, which allowed for one hell of a workout. He scooped up his yoga mat and towel, which were still where he’d left them after class, and headed toward his car in the parking lot.
“Hey, Joe! Wait…”
He turned around at the edge of the lot where the sidewalk from Ocean Blvd merged with the alley. His car was parked in the corner. There she was, the woman he’d just been thinking about. Talk about fate, he thought with a smile.
Kay wore running shorts and a sports tank, her hair scraped back in a white, wavy tail. She held out a frosty bottle of water. “Here you go. You look like you could use this.”
“What are you doing out here?”
She blushed. “I saw you running on the beach.” Kay cleared her throat as she discretely took in his chest, then quickly lifted her eyes to his. “I wanted to offer a few suggestions on your yoga poses-my mom had me doing that stuff from the time I could toddle.”
Joe twisted the cap and drank, the cool liquid refreshing and exactly what he needed after pushing himself to the limit. “Thanks. So, you were watching me, huh?” He grinned and rubbed the dark patch of hair beneath his chin.
Her jugular throbbed as if nervous and she fisted one hand against her toned thigh. “It was difficult to look away,” she admitted. “Anyway, I’m going to finish my run. Princey isn’t big on stamina.”
“I was wondering why you had him with you this morning.”
“I thought I could get both of us some exercise. My mistake.”
She lifted her foot to his rear bumper and stretched her opposite leg back, then switched feet and did it again. Next she lifted her arms over head. Of course he looked at her boobs. She caught him and laughed.
“Smooth, Officer.” She took a step toward the sidewalk.
“My bad,” he said with a guilty laugh. He fumbled with his keys, accidentally dropping them. He bent over to pick them up as a pop sounded and the rear window on the Honda shattered.
His heart stopped mid-beat and he looked for Kay, who stared at him with wide eyes. He reached out and pulled her to him, quickly assessing her for injuries. Nothing visible. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, her body trembling as she gripped his hand. “No.”
Joe scanned the area to his left, where the shot had come from. Condos, businesses, the street leading off the island. Nothing seemed out of place, but he ducked them both down by the side of his car, feeling as if he was wearing a bulls-eye.
He hadn’t sensed a thing. Damn it. Found again. He looked around at the people strolling by, hand in hand, as they walked to the beach. Kids skipping along, playing. H
appy families headed toward the water for some fun in the sun. Were they in danger, or was the shooter just after him? His phone was in his bag on the trunk, so he couldn’t call for help.
He peered over the edge of his car roof, eyeing the street ahead. A black shiny Lincoln revved its engine, the driver faced in the direction of the parking lot.
Adrenalin coursed through him. Was this the bastard? He palmed his car keys, ready to give chase.
Vroom, vroom. The passenger side window rolled down, and something glinted in the sun. Kay popped up next to him, and Joe jerked her back down, afraid she’d get shot. “Stay down,” he shouted, crouching low, his arms over her head.
He didn’t hear any gun fire, but the car peeled out. Joe rose, his heart racing, just in time to see smoke trail down the street. “Gotta get him,” he said, focused on finding the jerk and making him eat dirt.
“No!” Kay tugged at his hand, her tones frightened. “Don’t go, please, Joe. Are they gone?”
Fury burned bright and hot, but he couldn’t drag her with him. Or leave her here alone. Got away. “Yeah,” he said, ruffling his hair with hard strokes. “I didn’t see anything.” He smacked his hand down on the roof of his car with such force it dented.
Kay jumped and also stood. “Joe? What happened?”
Unbelievable. How had he been found again? He’d switched to using his mother’s maiden name and his middle name rather than his given name, David.
“Did someone just shoot at you?” Kay’s toothpaste-scented breath grounded him in the now. She stared at him with dawning comprehension, fear creeping in to darken her orbs.
“No.” He answered reflexively, used to hiding and lying.
She pushed at his bare chest, her palms connecting with his pecs. His skin pebbled at her touch, despite the danger they were in. “No lies, Joe.”
Damn. Joe dug deep for some calm—not even an hour ago he’d been as relaxed as a baby. “Don’t worry about it. They missed.”
“Don’t worry?” she spluttered. “Are you used to being a walking target?”
“Sort of.”
He put his arm around her waist but she squirmed free. “Explain, please.”
“I told you that I worked undercover…”
“Yes?” She tapped her toe, the sole of her sneaker not making any noise against the cement.
It seemed surreal that folks in swimsuits and flip flops walked by as if nothing were wrong. The shooter had been invisible. Had come so close to Kay. His gut clenched. “That means rubbing shoulders with a criminal element. Folks don’t like going to jail, or getting their drug business busted. Pisses them off, and they come looking for a little revenge against the undercover cop who dared to mess it up.”
He pounded his fist against the top of the car once more, but stopped at Kay’s sharp intake of breath. “Sorry,” he said.
“Should we call the cops?”
“I am the cops.” If only he’d had the chance to chase after the car. He ground his back teeth together. No license plate, but at least he had the make. Until they ditched it, if they were smart. And so far they had been.
She pointed to his missing window. “Don’t you have to report this?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I will, tonight, when I go to work. Going to the station now just means more paperwork. They’re gonna want to transfer me again.”
Kay’s scared expression made him lighten up. No need to get all bent out of shape over something he’d been handling the last year and a half. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Someone just shot at you. Just because they missed doesn’t make it all right. Do you know who it is?” Her face remained pale, but at least her voice was back to normal. He couldn’t have left her there in the parking lot alone, no matter how bad he’d wanted to go.
“No.” Joe turned and leaned his back against the passenger side door of his car, drawing Kay close so she stood in front of him.
“How can you live this way?” She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, her mouth in a solemn line.
“I just want to finish out the last six years of my career so that I can retire, and start over. Maybe have a family. A normal life.”
She scrunched her nose, mentally doing the math. “You’ll have twenty years in with the cops by 38?”
He nodded. “I started right out of high school. It’s why I’m hanging in.”
“I understand wanting security, but you have to survive to get it. You need to go someplace where people don’t want to kill you.” She blanched and pressed her fingers to her lips.
“This last bust with the XTC was pretty bad,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I’ve had a few threats since I’ve gotten out of the hospital.” He patted the scar that ran down his side in a jagged line. “But Jorge is in prison, and Juanito is dead. The ring itself is disbanded. There’s no saying who is after me.”
She traced his scar with the softest touch, as if afraid she might hurt him. “It looks like somebody sliced you open with a can opener.”
“Close enough. Broken bottle.” Slow, but steady, Juanito’s cousin had tried to get information from him. It hadn’t worked.
“I still think you should go to the police right away.”
“I’ll call it in,” he relented. “Report the black car. Want me to drop you off at home?”
“Okay. I don’t think my legs would hold me up to run. They’re still shaking.”
He gave her credit for keeping it together even when she had to brush glass fragments off of her seat. She looked at the back open space and said, “I see now why you don’t get the good cars.”
He chuckled with surprise. “This is actually the first time anybody’s shot at one.”
She tilted her head to look at him. “Not funny. Not funny at all. I guess I never realized the dangers involved in being a cop. I mean,” she tapped the side of her head, “I sort of did, but not really. Your life was very violent?” she asked, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear.
“At times.” He’d tried to steer clear of pissing matches but sometimes you had to claim your territory. Fist fights were not uncommon. Not my job anymore.
She faced forward, her legs bouncing as if she’d just had an energy drink. “I’ve never been around violence. My past was chock full of passive aggressive neglect.” She brought her thumbnail to her lower lip, then turned back to him. “I’m sorry for you, Joe.”
Ah. Her compassion was doubly sweet, since he’d worried he’d scared her away with his past. “I can’t change who I was, or what I did.”
“I wouldn’t want you to.” She pointed to the scar at his side. “But I’m very glad that you’re seeking a way out. I grew up with the belief that a person is what they do. If they behave badly, they will get bad things. Cause and effect, in a continuous cycle.”
“You said your name was Karma...” he remembered in a flash her sitting on his lap at the bar last night.
“What?” She frowned, her brow creasing.
“Yes. I wasn’t sure if I heard right, but yeah. You don’t like your name?”
“I hate it. What do you expect from a woman named Buttercup?”
He turned the car on, checking in his side mirrors and rear view for anything out of the ordinary. Hard to pin down danger. At least now he could be on the lookout for a black Lincoln. Was it one person, or a gang? He’d have to be on point all the time now that he knew they’d found him again.
“Karma is a pretty name,” he said, adept at keeping his feelings and actions separate. He pulled out of the parking lot, driving down Ocean to Rita Hartley’s condo. “A reminder to make good choices.” Once he dropped her off, he’d cruise the streets a while.
“It’s a lot of pressure, trust me.” She shook her head. “Don’t change the subject. Will you get transferred right away?”
Things became clear in that moment, as if a spotlight was put on his life. He, David Joseph Porter Canelli, running like a rabbit to ground. Scurrying at the sound of a hunter. Not any
more. Here was as good of a place as any to make a stand. He pounded his fist against the steering wheel as they stopped at the corner. “This is my third transfer.”
He turned to Kay, who watched him with uncertainty.
“I’m done running,” he said, his voice hard. “I’m ready to fight.”
Chapter Nine
K tensed at the harsh look of determination in Joe’s eyes. She’d caught a glimpse of his temper, but she couldn’t blame him for reacting to his life being in danger.
He could have been shot.
I could have been shot.
Unreal to think she was in more danger here, in paradise, than the dark streets of Chicago. “Please be careful, Joe.” She shouldn’t care, but somehow it was too late. What to do with those feelings? She’d already lost someone she cared for once; she wasn’t sure she could survive loss like that again. “What are you going to do now?”
He pulled in front of the condo building. “I’ll call the station,” he said, reaching out to touch her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “You’re pretty amazing. You handled yourself well in a crisis.”
“Good. Maybe that memory will stick with you, instead of the one where I sort of lose my mind.” She nipped the fleshy part of his thumb and pushed his hand away. Her tongue savored the saltiness of his flesh, her mouth wished he would kiss her again. She hadn’t been so scared in a long time.
“You had your reasons, K.” He shrugged, a beautiful sight, Joe without his shirt. “I’ve been giving it some thought, you know? And the ocean, Namaka, isn’t responsible for the bad shit that happened when you were young.”
She opened her mouth to argue but he held up his hand. “And it was bad, I understand that. I have this picture of you and a band of little kids living off of bananas and coconuts while running around in loincloths.”
K turned her head to hide her smile. He tickled her, knew just what to say to make her laugh. “That’s not too far off. We could fish. Catch rain from the tropical storms in leaves to drink.”
It was a childhood that had haunted her. Maybe it was time to let some of the dark memories into the light.
