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Authors: Shannon Esposito

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Karma's A Bitch (A Pet Psychic Mystery)

BOOK: Karma's A Bitch (A Pet Psychic Mystery)
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KARMA’S A BITCH

(A Pet Psychic Mystery)

By Shannon Esposito

 

 

 

Published by
Misterio Press

 

Visit Shannon Esposito's official website at

www.murderinparadise.com

 

Copyright © Shannon Esposito, 2011

 

Cover by
India Drummond

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

 

 

Other mysteries by Shannon Esposito

 

 

The Monarch

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Our first customer had a wet nose and, as it turned out, major daddy issues.

“Now if I could only get you to stop tinkling in daddy’s shoes!” Sarah Applebaum gushed, as her chin got a tongue bath from her newly groomed Shih Tzu. “You just look so precious. He has to forgive you now, right Wizzy Wizzy Lizzy?”

Wow, Sarah could spew some serious baby talk. I censored a chuckle while I rang her up for the grooming; a pink, organic cotton PRINCESS t-shirt and seven gourmet, carob treats. Laughing at our very first grooming client wouldn’t be polite—or good business sense for that matter—especially a new customer with about five grand worth of diamonds in her bracelet alone.

“Essa senhora é demente,” my friend, business partner and groomer, Sylvia, mumbled behind me. I didn’t speak Portuguese but, after spending the past month around her, I had started getting the gist of her remarks. I cleared my throat with a smile.

Sylvia was all dark passion, curves and confidence. In one word: exotic. I was a platinum-haired, milky-skinned twig just sticking my toe into society—outside my family—for the first time at twenty-eight. The Shih Tzu wasn’t the only one with daddy issues. Anyway, Sylvia and I worked on some level I didn’t quite understand but did appreciate.

“Lady Elizabeth giving y’all some problems?” I placed the receipt on the counter with a pen and reached out to stroke a silky brown ear. Sylvia had rocked the grooming, even topped it off with a jewel-encrusted bow holding the dog’s bangs out of her eyes. A tiny, pink tongue reached out and licked my hand.

Youch
! As the tongue made contact, a prickly current traveled up my hand. With it came an image and the scent of cheap perfume. I felt my face flush, the hair on my arms stand up.

Leaning back, I stared at Lady Elizabeth, who panted and then sneezed, which sounded a lot like, “see!” The energy buzzed around inside me like a swarm of mad bees, the image still glowing hot in my mind.

I glanced at an oblivious Sarah Applebaum and rubbed my nose, even though the sickening sweet perfume smell came from my sixth sense, not my sense of smell.

“We tinkle on the pad, not in the shoes.” Sarah kissed one of Lady Elizabeth’s fluffy feet and admired her cherry red nails. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.”

I had a pretty good idea but couldn’t exactly blurt it out. “Does your husband look a bit like a young Leslie Neilson?”

Sarah Applebaum blinked. “Well, yes, I suppose so. Why?”

“And I don’t suppose you have a daughter? Blonde? Fond of black lace?” I said this last part under my breath.

“No. A son, actually. He lives in Texas. Do you know my husband?”

“Oh. No. I um,” I tucked an unruly wave behind my ear and glanced at Sylvia for help. But Sylvia just stared at me, arms crossed, dark eyes searching under an arched brow. No help there.

I shrugged. “I must be thinking of someone else.” How to get out of this one? I held up a finger. “Hold on a sec, I have something for you to try.” I power walked down the aisle, back to the storeroom and flipped on the light. Jumping up and down and running in place, I tried to dispel the energy still coursing through my body. As far as vision-energy went, this was fairly tame but still, I didn’t need a repeat incident of the last time.

Sylvia cleared her throat behind me.

“Wha-yow!” I yelled, hopping around and holding my heart. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Sylvia grinned, her rich brown eyes sparkling with humor. “What are you doing? Do you need to use the potty?”

“Ha ha. No.” I turned back to the shelves in front of her, my cheeks burning. “Just looking for something for Lady Elizabeth.” I ran a finger over a row of 30 ml brown bottles with glass pipettes, reading the labels. “Aha…elm, honeysuckle, red clover.” I palmed a bottle and pondered the dog’s situation. “Probably will need something for her emotional stability.” Tapping my chin, I plucked another bottle off of the shelf. “Grey spider flower and chamomile should do it.” Spinning around I almost barreled into Sylvia, who still stood in the doorway watching me.

“Some of your magic flower essence for the pee peeing pooch?” Sylvia asked.

“For the pooch, yes.” I nodded. “For the pee peeing, no.” Then, lowering my voice, I added, “and it’s not magic.”

Sylvia, who grew up in a large Catholic family, lovingly referred to my flower essence creations as “woo woo” stuff. To me, raised in a house where concocting flower essence was like cooking a family recipe—and really, on the low end of the freaky scale in our house—it seemed as natural to hand out a bottle of flower essence as it would to hand out an aspirin. Although, now that I had fled to St. Petersburg, Florida from my family’s Savannah, Georgia home for a chance at normalcy, I realized all the people who had whispered behind our backs and shunned us may have had a point.

“Here you go, Mrs. Applebaum.” I wrapped the bottles in pink tissue and placed them in her bag. “It’s flower essence. Just squeeze four drops of each on Lady Elizabeth twice a day and massage into her skin. Should help reduce whatever anxiety she’s feeling about your husband right now.”
And whatever she’s going to feel about him in the future
.

“Oh, thank you, Darwin. I’ll pass the word to all my friends about how great you gals are.” She pressed a tip into Sylvia hand. “So glad you’re here now. I’ll see you soon!” She lifted the Shih Tzu’s paw and waved at us with it as she left.

Sylvia’s dark, silky ponytail whipped around with her body. “Spill it, my amiga. What was all that about?”

“What was what about?” I pretended to straighten out the one receipt in the drawer.

Before she could respond, the bells hanging on the door signaled another customer.

“Welcome to Darwin’s Pet Boutique!” I said, with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm.

“Good morning,” the elderly woman, sporting a heavy German accent, replied.

“How can we help you?” Sylvia raised an eyebrow at me. I recognized this as her secret signal that this conversation wasn’t over.

“I need to make grooming appointment for my dog, Heidi.”

“Certainly.”

“Hey, Sylvia,” I reached beneath the front counter and grabbed a folder. “Since you’ve got this, I’m going to walk over to the dog park and hang up our flyer.” I pushed out the door and into the sun baked morning before Sylvia questioned me further. I was determined to be normal here and Sylvia’s curiosity about the ‘woo-woo’ stuff could very well threaten that.

Gad! Shielding my eyes, I considered running upstairs for my sun hat. How is it so bright at nine thirty in the morning? I mean, we experienced southern summers in Savannah but here the flat, wide open sky and sunshine pushed summer up to a whole new level of intense.

Instead, I sucked it up and crossed Beach Drive and into North Straub Park. The park was a sprawling, grassy area between the strip of shops and eateries on Beach Drive and the sparkling blue waters of the yacht basin. The iconic Vinoy Renaissance Resort bordered the park on the north, the Fine Arts Museum on the south. A real live slice of paradise pie.

I paused on the sidewalk and just stood there taking in the view and breathing in the moist, balmy air, my heart literally light as a balloon. Over the past few weeks, my decision to leave home had gnawed at me. I was fond of Savannah and I did miss my family, but moments like this helped reinforce the notion that I had made the right decision.

It was love at first sight for me and St. Pete. I felt energized, alive and unbound here. I attributed some of it to my sympathetic connection to water, but there was something else, too. The energy here just hummed with possibility, like an adventure waited around every palm tree and peach colored condo.

I stepped onto the grass and made my way over to the shade of a giant banyan tree. There, I spotted a man propped up against the tree’s massive, above ground root system. A newspaper lay across his face. Stretched out beside him was a large mastiff, who watched me with a hanging, panting tongue that reminded me of melted silly putty. Approaching him, I reached into my khaki shorts pocket for one of the sweet potato bones I had baked over the weekend. I’m a real sucker for a big slobbery smile.

“Hey, big guy.” I leaned down and held out the bone when a hand suddenly shot up and grabbed my arm. “Hey!” I yelped as I found myself pinned down, one arm behind my back in less time than it took me to shout. “Ptt!” I spit out damp sand.

“Oh,” the man released my arm and hopped up, helping me up off the ground. “Sorry, ma’am. You caught me off guard.” He winced. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I eyed him as I rubbed at my mouth and a grass stain on my bare knee. “Good gracious you’re a quick one.” Then, deciding he wasn’t a threat, I straightened up and offered him a smile, holding up the bone. “No. It’s my fault. That’s what I get for sneaking up on y’all. Just wanted to give your dog a treat. I make ‘em. I’ve got the new pet boutique across the street. Darwin’s.” I motioned behind me. “I’m Darwin.” I held out a hand. “Quite a dog you’ve got there.”

The man glanced at my hand without taking it. I tried not to be offended. “Not really mine. Kind of adopted me. I call him Karma and,” his eyebrow shot up, “most people are scared of him.” He glanced at the bone and sighed. “He doesn’t have teeth but I’m sure he’d be happy to gum it to death.”

I laughed and held out the bone in front of the massive face. Intelligent brown eyes stared up at me. “Well go on, Karma. You soften it up enough, it’ll go down fine.” The mastiff reached out and took the bone gently from my hand and sprawled back out with a noisy
hrmph
. “Good boy.” I gave his large head a scratch. No zap. Thank the universe. I couldn’t take another jolt so soon. “He doesn’t look old enough to have gum disease. What happened to his teeth?”

“Don’t know. He’s only hung around with me about six months.” He kneeled down and lifted the dog’s top lip, releasing a stream of drool onto his arm. It didn’t seem to faze him. “Has a couple of nubs in the front. My guess? Maybe a rock chewing habit. We’ve all got our demons, isn’t that right, boy?” He patted the dog’s rump with a firm hand. The dog’s tail thumped the grass.

I checked out the arms loaded with tattoos, the hole in his boot, the dusty t-shirt, the worn back pack against the tree and wondered what kind of demons the man was living with. Was he one of the homeless I had heard were so prevalent downtown? Taking a harder look at the lean frame and dull fur on Karma, I cleared my throat. “Well, I’ve gotta go get this flyer up at the dog park but,” I paused, “I didn’t get your name?”

“Mad Dog.”

Mad Dog? Definitely not his real name. Who was I to judge, though, with a name like Darwin? “Okay, Mad Dog, remember I’m right across the street. If y’all need anything feel free to visit the pet boutique.” I waited until his chin tilted up and locked my gaze with his, so he’d know I was serious. “I mean it, now. Anything…food for Karma or a cool place to get out of the heat.”

BOOK: Karma's A Bitch (A Pet Psychic Mystery)
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