Karma's a Killer (21 page)

I gave him a dirty look.

“Fine. You're an angel. She asked me to help her rescue it.” He pointed at Bella. “Keeping a dog—even that one—locked up in a car is shameful, dangerous, even. It could suffocate. If anyone should call the police, it's me.”

“Nice try, buddy. The windows were partially open and there's no sun in that garage. It's downright chilly today, but even on warm days, Bella's cooler there than in my house.”

“Still, keeping a dog locked up in a car all day? You're torturing her. It's no wonder she's so vicious.”

Bella, the supposedly tortured one, lifted her lips at Eduardo and showed him her teeth.

“She's not locked in there for long. I take her for a walk every couple of hours. And she's not vicious. She's pissed at you for trying to kidnap her. Where were you planning to take her?”

“I told you, I don't know. It was the pet store chick's idea.”

I leaned back and peered at Eduardo, trying to decipher whether or not he was telling the truth. The pettiest part of me wanted to believe that Tiffany was responsible—not just for my car damage, but for everything else bad in the world. War, famine, and pestilence included. And Eduardo's explanation made sense, if you were looking at Bella's situation from his warped perspective. Still, his story didn't jibe, not completely. It certainly didn't match up with the video.

Rene pointed at Eduardo's outfit. “You're one to talk about harming animals, sitting there all comfy cozy in your leather jacket and boots. Hypocritical lately?”

Goth Girl recovered the ability to speak. “They're not leather, they're
pleather
. It only looks like leather. Not one animal was harmed to make that jacket. Eduardo gave me one on my birthday. It's in our room.”

“Shut up, Marla,” Eduardo said.

My stomach lurched. “
Your
room? As in the room the two of you share?” I gaped at Eduardo, disgusted. “You certainly get around, buddy. Three women, all who knew each other, all at the same time? Frankly, I don't understand why
you
weren't the one murdered.” I gestured with my thumb to Goth Girl. “This one doesn't even look eighteen.”

Rene agreed. “You're handsome, I'll grant you that, but no one is
that
handsome. What do all of these women see in you?”

Goth Girl interrupted. “Wait a minute … you two think …
gross
! I'm not sleeping with Eduardo. He's my brother!”

Her brother?

The puzzle pieces finally all fell into place. Eduardo wasn't an abusive lover; he was an overbearing family member.

Rene's eyes darted back and forth between the two siblings. One tall, dark, apparently of Hispanic descent. The other petite and pale, about fifteen years his junior. “You two are brother and sister? But you don't look anything alike!” She placed her hands on her belly and stared at it with a dazed expression. “You mean the twins might not look related?”

Coming from anyone else, the question would have sounded
absurd, especially given the circumstances. But to Rene, the insight was huge. It added a whole new layer of complication to the baby-accessorizing dilemma.

Eduardo sneered. “We're half siblings, you nitwit. Same mother, different fathers. I was conceived in Mom's drug-runner phase. Marla was born after she turned white supremacist. Our fathers were both real charmers.”

The diversion was interesting, but not relevant. I cycled back to my damaged car.

“Here's the thing, Eduardo. Like I said before: your and Tiffany's little escapade was caught on video, and I watched it. Your story doesn't make sense. If the whole thing was Tiffany's doing, why did she try to stop you? And if you were breaking in to free Bella, why did you pop open the trunk?”

Eduardo's body language remained carefully neutral.

Marla's, however, did not. Her hands drummed a staccato rhythm against the table. Her feet tapped the ground. Only her eyes remained motionless, glued to the table's surface, as if her mind were trapped somewhere inside the dense rings of wood.

“You must have been planning to steal something,” I continued, “but what? My car is a beater. Why target it out of all of the other, nicer ones in the lot?”

“I already told you, the whole thing was the pet store chick's idea. I didn't even know what kind of car you drove.”

Marla finally looked up. When she spoke, her voice quavered.

“Yes you did. I showed it to you when she picked up Dharma's stuff.”

My skin tingled.
Dharma's belongings.

“That's it, isn't it?” I replied. “You weren't searching for something of
mine
, you wanted something of
Dharma's
. You're the one who broke into my house, too. How did you know where I lived? Did Dharma tell you about me?”

Eduardo's complexion paled.

“I don't get it, though,” I continued. “I've been through every stitch of Dharma's clothing. I even snooped through her makeup. I read every letter. I didn't find a single thing that would matter to anyone other than me. What did you think Dharma had hidden in that motel room?”

Goth Girl's tapping grew louder, more frantic. Her whole body—even her lip piercing—trembled. Eduardo reached over and trapped her hands.

“Marla, honey, stop. Everything's going to be okay.”

“No, it's not,” she cried. She yanked her arm out of Eduardo's grasp, pulling up her shirt sleeve. For the first time, I saw what she kept hidden under those long sleeves: shiny pink scars along her forearm.

Burn marks.

My chest tightened. Rene had been right all along. The El Paso arsonist
was
a woman. Just not the one we suspected.

Marla pulled her sleeves down and hugged her arms tightly against her chest. I spoke to her softly, as if soothing an anxious student. “Marla, how did you get those scars?” She didn't reply. I turned and spoke to Eduardo. “Did you think Dharma had evidence linking Marla to the El Paso fires?”

Eduardo stood and pulled Marla to her feet. “Come on. We're leaving.”

She refused to move. “No, Eduardo. Not this time.” She looked down at the table. Her words were so soft, at first I thought I'd misheard them. “It was an accident.”

Eduardo's voice cracked. “Stop talking, Marla, please.”

She shook her head. “I can't hide anymore.”

Tears wet Marla's cheeks, but her voice betrayed little emotion. “I never meant to hurt anyone; I only wanted to watch the fire. That building was empty. It was always empty. I tried to put the fire out when it started spreading, but I couldn't.”

For the first time since Green Lake, Marla spoke without hesitation. “I set the fires. All of them, even this weekend.” She looked at her brother. “I'm sorry, Eduardo. I thought I could stop, but I can't.” She turned back to me. “After the homeless woman died, Eduardo took me to California so we could hide out with Raven. He even slept with her to make her stay quiet. All to protect me.”

Eduardo looked like he was about to be sick.

“You didn't think I knew that? Everybody says I'm so dumb, but I'm not.”

Eduardo wrapped his arms around Marla and squeezed her tightly against his chest. “I never thought you were stupid, honey. Never. You've just been hurt by too damned much evil. And it was my fault. I'm your big brother. I was supposed to protect you. It was my job to protect you.” He gently rocked Marla back and forth, whispering into her hair over and over again. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…”

I sat there staring at them, frozen. If I were my father, I'd have pulled out the handcuffs and whisked them both off to jail. If I were Dale, I'd have advised them to stop talking before they apologized themselves into a lifetime in prison. If I were Buddha, I'd have assured them that this life and their suffering were simply illusions, destined to dissolve away like some horrible nightmare.

But I was just a yoga teacher. All I could do was sit there helplessly and try not to sob. Marla's story didn't just break my heart, it shattered it. She was so vulnerable. So young. And there was nothing I could do to help her. I knew I should call the police, but I couldn't make my hand reach for the phone. A crazy part of me wanted to leap over the table, grab Marla's hand, and whisk her away. Away from her mistakes, from her guilt, from her pain. Especially away from the results of the phone call I knew I had to make.

I looked at Rene, silently beseeching her to come up with a different solution. The look on her face told me what I already knew: there was none. When she pulled out her cell phone, the tears in her eyes matched my own.

Marla pushed back from Eduardo's embrace and gave him a wan smile. When she turned to face us, she had finally stopped trembling.

“When the police answer, tell them I want to confess to a murder.”

Rene took Bella back to the motel so she wouldn't try to protect Marla from the police. Two uniformed officers took the frail-looking teenager away in handcuffs about twenty minutes later.

To be honest, I didn't know how to feel. I had ostensibly solved the mystery of an accidental death—and it was an accidental death, whether the courts eventually agreed with me or not—so I should have felt proud, or at least self-satisfied. What I actually felt was ambivalent. Part of me was devastated that Marla's life had been ruined at such a young age. Another part was hopeful. If Marla was ever going to heal, she would have to atone for her crimes. Maybe in prison, she would get the help she so obviously needed. Maybe afterward, she would learn how to restart her life. Eduardo might even begin one of his own.

Eduardo spoke with me before he left for the police station. “Dharma always had a wooden box with her. You're sure there wasn't anything in it about the fires? She could have collected all sorts of information. Newspaper clippings, recordings of conversations, diaries … ”

I shook my head. “Not that I found.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, they looked hollow. “The day she died, Raven told me that Dharma knew about our affair and that she was going to get revenge by telling the police about El Paso. Raven always said crap like that, so I didn't believe her. But then you came to the motel and collected Dharma's belongings. I assumed she had some sort of evidence, and that her lawyer was going to use it to cut a deal.”

“A deal?”

He slowly shook his head. “Yes. I convinced myself that Dharma was going to throw Marla under the bus in exchange for a lighter sentence.”

“Raven lied to you,” I said. “She was trying to turn you and Dharma against each other.”

“I should have known better. Dharma's not the vengeful type. But Raven didn't use to be, either. Dharma and I drove by your house when we first got into town, and I knew you worked at a yoga studio near the pet store. I thought it would be easy to steal the box back…” His voice trailed off.

When he spoke again, it was filled with regret. “Finding that evidence was the only reason I didn't get Marla out of town yesterday. And now you tell me that it doesn't exist?”

“I'm sorry. No.”

“Once again, I've let Marla down. If we'd left town right after Raven's death, she'd be safe in California right now.”

I didn't expect an honest answer, but I had to ask. “Did you hurt Raven?”

Eduardo looked down at his boots. “No.”

“Do you know who did?”

He paused for several long seconds, but once he started speaking, he didn't stop.

“I have no idea. Dharma and I only moved to California because Raven claimed we could keep Marla safe there. I thought I could trust her. We'd been friends since we dated in high school. She promised that she would give us a home and provide Marla some structure. And she did, for a while. Then she became obsessed with destroying her cousin. I could tell she was unraveling, so I told her we were leaving. That's when our so-called home turned into a prison. She gave me a choice: stay with her—sleep with her—or she'd turn in my sister. What could I do? I stayed. I slept with her. All for nothing.

“A couple of weeks ago, she told me that she'd finally figured out how to get back at her family. That stupid pet protest was part of her plan. I tried to talk her out of it. We fought. A lot. The stress is probably why Marla started setting fires again.” He shook his head. “Raven didn't give Marla and me a home—she sent us to hell.”

He looked up and grimaced, as if finally remembering my presence.

“Like I said, I have no idea who killed Raven. But when you find out, be sure to thank them for me.”

Nineteen

A few hours later,
Rene and I sat on my couch and took turns sharing our day's drama with Dale. Bella, much to her dismay, was locked in my bedroom, primarily for Bandit's safety. Bandit and Bella had met on Orcas Island last fall, and suffice it to say, the introduction hadn't gone well. Bandit was now taking full advantage of Bella's incarceration by gluing himself to the opposite side of the door, where he sniffed, scratched, and barked at full volume. At least neither of them was off shredding boxes somewhere. Or each other, for that matter.

Rene sipped from a wine glass filled with non-alcoholic Chardonnay soda. Dale and I shared a bottle of the real thing. Dale seemed uncharacteristically somber. He even turned off the fake southern charm for the evening. He waited for us to tell the entire story—from parking at the motel to watching the police lead Marla off in handcuffs—before asking his first question.

“Why didn't the police arrest her brother, too?”

I set my glass on the table. “On what charges? Marla claims he had nothing to do with the arsons. I suppose he might eventually get in trouble for helping cover up Marla's crimes, but that certainly wasn't the police officers' highest priority today.”

“What about for burglarizing your house and breaking into your car?”

“I couldn't turn him in for the car without implicating Tiffany, and I promised Michael I wouldn't do that. And if I told the police he broke into my house, they'd wonder why, and they'd eventually find out that Dharma knew about Marla's arsons. The last thing she needs is an accessory charge.” I shrugged. “So for now, Eduardo goes free.”

“Fair enough.” Dale absently scratched his beard. “My main goal, of course, is to get Dharma out of jail. Do you think this ‘Goth Girl'—”

“Marla,” I corrected.

“Do you think
Marla
could have killed Raven? She had motive.”

“I don't know what to believe anymore. But honestly? I don't think so. I know she's legally responsible for the homeless woman's death in El Paso, but she doesn't seem like a murderer to me.”

Rene agreed. “Even if Marla wanted to kill Raven, I don't think she had the confidence to do it, not with her bare hands.”

“For what it's worth,” Dale replied, “I think you're right. It sounds like the homeless woman's death was an accident. A tragic accident. Starting a fire near an abandoned building is one thing. Holding someone's head under water and watching them drown? That's completely different.”

Bandit must have gotten bored with tormenting Bella, because he trotted down the stairs, skidded to a stop next to Dale's chair, and hopped up on his lap. Dale stroked his fur. “I probably shouldn't, but I feel kind of sorry for the kid.”

“Me too.” I had a feeling I already knew the answer, but I had to ask. “I know this isn't your responsibility, but … ”

Dale shook his head. “Sorry, Kate. I know what you're about to ask, and the answer is no. Marla will be extradited to Texas. I'm not licensed to practice law there. Besides, I'm Dharma's attorney. Representing Marla would be a conflict of interest.”

It took every fiber of my willpower not to beg.

Luckily, Rene did it for me. She leaned forward, placed her hand on Dale's knee, and flashed him her
no-man-can-refuse-me
smile. “Please, Dale? Isn't there anything you can do? She's too young—too vulnerable—to have her whole life ruined. You're a legal miracle worker. There must be something you can do.”

Rene and I both stared at him in silence, refusing to break eye contact. After a moment, he sighed.

“Fine, ladies, you win. I'll make some phone calls. I can't take the case, but I'll make sure she gets good representation.” He affected his fake southern drawl. “Those kinfolk of mine oughta to be good for something.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me until we see if there's actually something I can do.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed Bandit's ears. “Marla's situation may solve one mystery, though.”

“What's that?”

“Your mother's caginess. She's been hiding something from the beginning, and I suspect it's the El Paso fires. Maybe now that the girl has confessed, Dharma will be more forthcoming.”

“Why would Dharma endanger herself like that? For Eduardo? She could end up in prison for the rest of her life.”

“Not for the man, for the girl.” He frowned “You really don't know Dharma, do you? Marla is emotionally vulnerable, exactly the kind of person your mother would be driven to help. She's spent her life fighting for those who can't protect themselves.”

Except me.

My expression must have betrayed my thoughts.

Dale hesitated before speaking. “Can I say something to you as a friend now, not as your mother's attorney?”

I nodded my head yes.

“Dharma could have easily helped herself by turning that girl in. Even if we didn't cut a deal, I could have used what she knew about Marla as leverage for bail. She didn't so much as ask me about it. You haven't seen her in a few days, but believe me, she's not doing well in jail. Keeping that girl's secret may have been foolish, but it was also selfless.” He stared at me until I made eye contact. “Are you with me so far?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Keep listening and try to keep an open mind. I know you and your mother have a history. She hasn't shared the specifics, but I suspect they're not good. It's not my business to broker forgiveness. Heck, I don't know if Dharma
wants
you to forgive her. But remember, there are two sides to every conflict. Maybe it's time you heard hers. Whatever you may think, your mother is a good woman.”

I didn't know how to reply, so I didn't. I reached down, picked up my wine glass, and drained it. The wall clock's hollow ticking filled the room's silence for at least a century.

Rene finally spoke. “So where does all of this leave us? In terms of solving Raven's murder, I mean.”

I shrugged. “Pretty much where we started. From what I can tell, Raven had more enemies than friends. We haven't eliminated any suspects, not for certain. Even Judith from the wildlife center was glad to see Raven dead. If I can't eliminate a seventy-five-year-old do-gooder from my list, who can I?”

“What's our next move?” Rene asked.

“Legally, I've got my work cut out for me unless something changes,” Dale replied. “The DA has plenty of evidence to get an indictment, what with Dharma's public fights with Raven, her ID being at the scene, and her skin under Raven's fingernails. Heck, if I were on the jury, I'd vote to convict. The only thing that could make the DA's job easier would be Dharma's confession.”

“Are the police looking at Raven's family?”

“I'm sure they've interviewed them. They always investigate family members, especially when money's involved. And that family had more conflict than a herd of goats with too many Billies. I'll be danged if I can tie any of it to the murder, though. Dharma suspects that the Seattle protest was a front for something else, but she doesn't know what, and I can't figure it out. Everything I've found on DogMa so far seems legit.”

“Have you looked at their financials?” I asked. “The original conflict between Maggie and Raven was about money.”

“Maggie's stonewalling me,” Dale replied. “She won't let me anywhere near their records.”

“Doesn't that seem suspicious to you?”

“Yes. But then again, I'm defending her cousin's alleged murderer. Relatives of the victim rarely go out of their way to help the defense.” He set Bandit on the floor. “Do you think Michael could talk her into cooperating?”

“I doubt it, and I can't, either. Michael and I destroyed any goodwill with Maggie the day of Raven's memorial. If we try to get anywhere near Maggie or her shelter, she'll probably shoot us with one of her grandfather's hunting rifles.”

Rene sat up straight. “I could do it.”

I turned to face her. “You could do what?”

“Snoop around at DogMa. Nobody there knows me, and everyone trusts a pregnant woman. I could sign up as a volunteer. Once I got in, I could find some excuse to look in their files.”

“Absolutely not,” Dale and I replied in unison.

“I'm not about to put you in danger.” I said.

“I'm not going to let you risk Dharma's case,” Dale added. “Whatever we find, I need to do it legally. I may have to use it in court.”

“Besides, Rene. You'd get caught in a heartbeat. You're about as stealthy right now as a brontosaurus.”

Rene looked a little insulted—and a lot hurt. “You don't have to be mean about it, Kate. I'm trying to help.”

“I know you are, sweetie.” I felt bad for the comment. Rene and I teased each other relentlessly, but comparing her to a twenty-three ton dinosaur was insensitive, even for me. “Tell you what—why don't we take a drive out to Fido's Last Chance tomorrow morning? My friend Betty's been in the rescue world forever. She might have some ideas. Right now, it's late, I'm too exhausted to think straight, and I need to get some sleep before I see Dharma tomorrow.”

Dale leaned forward and set his feet flat on the floor. “About that visit … ” His voice sounded unusually stern. “Before I let you get anywhere near my client, we need to revisit the ground rules.”

Dale proceeded to outline, in his most lawyerly tone, everything I never wanted to know about jailhouse visits, recording devices, and the creative ways prosecuting attorneys could use them. Every word Dharma and I said at the jail could be used against her in court, not only for Raven's murder, but any conspiracy charges that the state of Texas might bring against her for helping cover up Marla's crimes. By the time Dale finished laying out his newest restrictions, there wasn't much left that Dharma and I
could
talk about.

The list of forbidden topics now expanded well beyond Raven's murder and HEAT to
anything
having to do with Eduardo, Marla, the fires, blackmail, or Dharma's time in Texas, Mexico, or California. In other words, I couldn't ask Dharma anything at all that might help me solve the murder.

No doubt about it, I was frustrated. But I was also relieved. Dharma and I had a mere thirty minutes, and Dale had taken away all of my excuses to waste them. If I couldn't talk about Eduardo or Marla in my visit with Dharma tomorrow, I'd be forced to learn about an entirely different enigma.

Me.

After three decades of silence, the conversation was long overdue.

The mantra seemed to echo within and around me.

May you have peace.

May your heart be open.

May you be healed, and may you be a source of healing for all beings.

I reached my arms up and imagined that I was bathed in a warm, healing light. This ancient Buddhist metta meditation was one of my favorites. In it, I offered peace, healing, love, and joy to everyone who touched my life: acquaintances, loved ones, even myself.

Today's practice seemed especially powerful. The vibrations of the repeated words permeated my cells, soothing my nervous system like soft caresses. My prickly defensiveness lost its hard edges. My emotional nerve endings finally stopped throbbing.

I started to nod off—always a risk in meditation. I should have been a good yogi and kept my mind focused and alert, but the sensation of floating was simply too delicious. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift asleep.

What felt like a second later, I heard a low, distant rumble. The floor began shaking. The walls started to tremble.

Earthquake!

My eyes flew open and I scrambled to find something to hide underneath—a table, a doorway, anything—but I was suddenly surrounded by darkness. Cracks formed in the earth around me. The warm light I'd relished turned burning white cold.

He was back. The demon who lurked in the shadows. The evil that haunted my nightmares.

But this time, my eyes were open. This time, I wasn't afraid.

The familiar voice penetrated my subconscious:
Kate, you're dreaming.

“I know.”

Normally, this was the point at which I panicked. But not tonight. Dharma's letter—vague as it was—gave me power.

This time, rather than run from the dream universe, I changed it. I halted the shaking. I brightened the light. I smoothed out the cracks in my metaphorical foundation. I touched my fingers to the edge of the darkness, but I chose not to go inside. Instead, I faced it and gave my demon a message.

“If you come again, I'll be ready.”

Much to my surprise, I meant it.

For the first time ever, I woke myself up.