Karma's a Killer (24 page)

“Dharma, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes. Stay safe. Dale told me that you're planning to help him look into DogMa. Please don't.”

The guard announced that our time was up. Dharma gripped the phone and spoke as fast as she could. “Raven may have been a good person once, but not when I knew her. The last few weeks of her life, she was obsessed with taking down that shelter. Someone there has to be involved with her death. They're dangerous.”

The guard approached Dharma. She got out one final sentence before he forced her to hang up the phone.

“I'd rather rot in prison than let you get hurt again.”

I sat in that make-believe phone booth for what felt like an eternity, long after the next group of depressed-looking visitors started filing into the room. Anxious, sour stomach acid gurgled up into my throat. Dharma needed to get out of that jail cell—and soon. She knew that. I knew that. Still, the only favor she asked of me today was to stop helping her. This paradoxically strong yet beaten-down woman was not the uncaring monster I'd created in my imagination. Not even close.

What should I do?

Dharma's entreaty left me with two choices: keep investigating Raven's death and potentially risk my own life, or sit back and let Dharma spend the rest of hers in prison.

What would a good daughter do?

Obey her mother, of course.

Luckily for Dharma, I'd never claimed to be good.

Twenty-Two

I called Michael's cell
phone as soon as I got back to the studio, but the call rolled directly to voicemail. I left a brief message saying that my meeting with Dharma hadn't yielded any useful information—which was true as far as Raven's murder was concerned. As for the revelations about my childhood, that bombshell was best dropped in person.

I taught my four-thirty Yoga for Core Strength class on auto­pilot. Rather than focus on my students, I obsessively reviewed everything I'd learned in my meeting with Dharma and anguished over everything I hadn't.

Suffice it to say, the class wasn't my best effort. I'm not sure what words came out of my mouth during that sixty-minute disaster, but my students seemed anything but blissful at its end. I'd barely finished ringing the chimes to indicate class was over when they popped up like Eggos, gathered their belongings, and scurried out of the studio.

“See you next week!” I yelled to their rapidly retreating behinds.

The teacher sitting behind the desk smiled knowingly. “One of
those
classes, huh?”

“The worst.”

She pointed at the bench in the waiting area. “Your friend's here.”

Rene was sitting quietly between the schefflera tree and the ficus. Her face looked swollen and puffy—much worse than when I'd dropped her off at home at noon. Her eyes were bloodshot; her eyelids, rimmed with red. Even the skin underneath her nostrils seemed raw.

“Rene, what happened?”

She sneezed. “It's my stupid allergies.”

So much for her Benadryl strategy. “What are you doing here? I thought I was picking you and Bella up at your house?”

“We were worried about you. How did the meeting with Dharma go?”

I avoided her question by pretending to misunderstand it. “Dharma looks horrible, and I'm frustrated. So far, Dale's right. We haven't found a shred of evidence that proves her innocence.”

Rene's response was characteristically blunt. “I wasn't referring to Dharma's case, and you know it. I meant that letter you found. Stop dodging my question.”

I didn't reply.

Rene's voice grew softer. “You're not ready to talk about it, are you?”

“Not yet, Rene. But soon, I promise.”

Rene's expression clearly indicated that she wasn't satisfied, but she stopped arguing. “Okay, for now. But I'm holding you to that. What else did you learn?”

“Nothing. At least nothing that proves Dharma didn't kill Raven.”

“Maybe you're making this too hard. The system is ‘innocent until proven guilty.' We don't have to prove that Dharma didn't kill Raven; we simply have to come up with alternative suspects. All Dharma needs is reasonable doubt.”

I shook my head. “That happens at trial, which could be a year from now. The way Dharma looks, she won't make it to the end of the month. That place she's stuck in is a prana-sucking vampire. Dharma's life force is being drained out of her, drop by drop.”

Rene leaned back and scrutinized me, trying to decipher the truth. “I get that Dharma doesn't like being in prison. Who would? But why the sudden rush? Something changed when you met with her today, didn't it?”

Rene was right. The easiest explanation was that I was worried about Dharma's safety, which I was. But as I flashed on the bruise covering her left cheek, I realized that Dharma's health was only part of my new-found sense of urgency. The other part was completely selfish. For the first time in my adult life, I wanted to spend time with my mother.

Somehow, in today's brief thirty minutes with Dharma, my attitude toward her had changed. My childish beliefs about my father had, too. Dharma wasn't the black-suited villain I'd created in my imagination. Dad wasn't the white-hatted hero. They were simply two deeply flawed individuals who had made terrible mistakes.

I swallowed to clear the tightness out of my throat. “Yes, Rene, everything has changed. Dharma isn't who I thought she was.” Tears threatened my eyes. “What if they take her away? I can't lose her before I have a chance to know her.”

Rene stood up and grabbed my hand. “We won't let that happen. We'll figure out something.”

I couldn't believe what I was about to say. “Actually, I have an idea.”

I hated to involve Rene in my subterfuge, but I was running out of options. “I've been thinking about what you suggested last night. Maybe you
should
go to DogMa—just to get a feel for the place and see if you can pick up on any gossip.” I held up my index finger. “But I don't want you going alone. Sam can go with you when he gets back into town.”

“Maybe … ” Rene scrunched up her face and shifted left to right. At first I thought the twins were kicking her bladder again, but then I noticed that she was also avoiding eye contact. It was Rene's classic I'm-about-to-get-in-big-trouble dance.

“What have you done now?”

“You're not going to like it.”

That was a safe bet. I didn't like it already. “Tell me.”

“Bella and I went on a recon mission to DogMa today.”

“You did
what
?” I wasn't sure which emotion was stronger: anger, frustration, or sheer incredulity. I peered at Rene through narrowed eyes. “We agreed that you weren't going to do that.”

“No.” Rene's reply was emphatic. “You and Dale agreed. You didn't give me any say in the matter. You both think I'm an incompetent boob, but I'm not. I want to help.” She looked down at her fingers. “So while you were at the jail, Bella and I went on a field trip to DogMa.”

That
explained why she'd been so gracious about my going to the jail alone. She wanted me out of the way so she could go spying.

“I did exactly what you're suggesting. I dropped in at the shelter and told the woman at the front desk that I wanted to adopt a kitten.” She pointed to her belly. “You know, for the girls.”

“Rene, you're allergic to cats.”

She rolled her eyes. “You act like I don't know that. I wasn't planning to take a cat home, just talk about one. I thought I could pop in, ask Maggie a few questions about their adoption procedures, and look around.”

“Why didn't you say you wanted a dog?”

“I was afraid she'd show me a bunch of cute pictures like Betty did. I don't have your willpower, Kate. I could get suckered right in. With a cat, I knew I wouldn't end up taking it home. Honestly, I thought this plan through.” She frowned. “Fine lot of good it did me. Maggie wasn't there. I got stuck talking to that assistant of hers, Sara or Sandra or whatever her name is.”

“Sally?”

“Yeah, that's right. Sally. Evidently, she was the only person working this afternoon. She took me into an office, sat me at a desk, and made me fill out this humongous form, like I was adopting a kid or something. It was nothing like this morning with Betty. Seriously. That form was like five pages. Then she started the interrogation. Question after question after question. ‘Will your cat be allowed outdoors? Have you ever declawed a cat? Have you ever owned an animal that was hit by a car? How much are you prepared to spend on your pet's health care?' Heck, how was I supposed to know the right answers? I don't even like cats!

“I kept waiting for her to leave me alone in the office, but she never did. I asked to go to the bathroom twice, hoping I could snoop around, but old Hawkeye Cat Lady never let me out of her sight. She even caught me peeking into the exam room.” She shuddered. “Then it got worse.”

“Worse?”

“Kate, she took me into a … a
cat warehouse
. It was filled with the furry monsters. There were cages of them stacked on top of each other. My allergies went bonkers.” She pointed to her face. “I mean, look at me! I sneezed so hard the twins probably have concussions.”

I tried not to smile.

“The Cat Nazi wasn't impressed. She said I was—get this—
unqualified
to adopt one of their animals. Then she added me to some sort of black list. She told me that she'd watched me drive up and that she'd seen the fighting dog in my car.”

“Wait a minute. You let Bella ride in the Prius?”

“It was an emergency, Kate. I covered the back seat in blankets. Now are you going to listen to me or what?”

I nodded for her to continue.

“Anyway, that Cat Nazi thought I was gathering small animals to use as bait.” Rene's hands formed tight fists. “Well,
that
made me angry. I've never harmed an animal in my life. And Bella may be big and unruly, but she's not vicious. I was about to tell Cat Woman where she could put her stupid list when her pocket started vibrating. She looked at her cell phone and pretended to have a family emergency.” Rene placed her hands on her hips. “Kate, it was humiliating. She grabbed my elbow and walked me to the door like I was some sort of cat-hating con artist.”

I suppressed a grin. “Well, you are.”

“That's beside the point. She shuffled me outside and locked the door behind her, saying she had to leave because her husband was having some sort of health crisis. It was obviously an excuse to get rid of me. Then she gave me this flyer.” Rene handed me a pamphlet titled
Why Spay and Neuter Your Pets?

“She said that I should seriously consider sterilization, which doesn't make any sense, since she flat-out told me that she'd never give me an animal. How can I spay a cat if I don't own one?”

I didn't reply.

Rene's eyes grew wide. “You don't think she was referring to
me
?”

Rather than answer, I circled the conversation back to the case. “Rene, I know you were trying to help, but you were the one spy I had left. Why didn't you wait to visit DogMa until we had a chance to strategize?”

Rene's pretend indignation faded away. Her eyes grew watery. I had a feeling this time cat dander had nothing to do with it.

“I wanted to prove to you guys that I could help on my own.”

My frustration melted. I'd known Rene over half of my life. Long enough to know she was a great actress. So great, in fact, that I sometimes forgot that her external bravado covered up inner vulnerability.

Dale's insensitivity toward her could be forgiven—he didn't know Rene, and his priority had to be Dharma, anyway. I had no such excuse.

I gave her a hug. “I'm sorry, sweetie. We shouldn't have dismissed you last night. But what do we do now?”

We stared at each other in silence for several long moments. Rene finally stood up and grabbed her purse from the bench.

“We go shopping.”

Huh?

Rene was a huge fan of retail therapy, but the sudden change in focus seemed random, even for her.

“How on earth is shopping going to help?”

“Haven't I taught you anything? First we fuel, then we burn.” She pointed down at her feet. “I need to waddle off these cankles. You need to come up with some creative ideas. Exercise solves both of our problems. We're taking Bella for a walk at Green Lake. Maybe being back at the crime scene will spark some ideas.”

It wasn't the worst idea Rene had come up with. I certainly wasn't coming up with any solutions here.

“Okay, but what does that have to do with shopping?”

“I'm starving, and the PhinneyWood Market put their Easter candy on sale. The girls are about to eat their first marshmallow chicks.

Twenty minutes and two Cadbury eggs later, Rene and I pulled into the parking lot of the Green Lake Community Center. I parked the car, hooked on Bella's leash, and allowed her to pull me across the now-empty field that had housed last Saturday's event. Bella pranced happily at the end of her leash, occasionally coming back to sniff my jacket pocket, which held the last remaining goat-shaped cookies from Dale. Rene carried a reusable grocery bag in one hand and pulled bright yellow marshmallow chicks through her teeth with the other. Artificially colored sugar caked her lips and dusted her chin.

I knew my words were futile, but I said them anyway. “Rene, this junk food diet can't be good for you or the babies.”

“Don't be silly,” she replied. “Marshmallow chicks are an Easter tradition. Besides, everyone knows that you're supposed to eat a diet with a variety of colors.” She pointed to the grocery bag. “I've got yellow, pink, and purple all covered in this one sack.”

We walked past a woman holding a sign:
Homeless and hungry. Please help.
In an uncharacteristic demonstration of food-related generosity, Rene reached inside her bag and pulled out an unopened four-pack of bright pink marshmallow candies.

“Do you want some of my chicks?”

The homeless woman shook her head. “I don't eat that crap. It's pure poison.”

I didn't hold back my snicker as I handed the woman a five-dollar bill. “You should be proud, Rene. A diet so bad the homeless prefer fasting.”

“Keep walking, smart-ass.”

We turned left at the trail and continued walking south. Bella and I normally avoided Green Lake's three-mile inner path and its hoard of canine-walking humans, but on this cool spring evening, the path was unusually empty.

For the first several minutes, the three of us walked in silence, only the soft crunch, crunch, crunch of gravel underneath our feet interrupting our reverie. The sweet smells of hyacinths and pink-blossoming trees tickled my nostrils.

Bella alternated between pulling me along the path and pausing to sniff the lake's shoreline, undoubtedly exploring the scent trail of one of Green Lake's many animal residents, which included rats, raccoons, herons, and a surprisingly large population of turtles.

Rene finished the last of her marshmallow chicks, crumpled the wrapper, and tossed it into a trash bin.

“Okay. Blood sugar catastrophe averted,” she said. “Now I can think. Why don't you tell me what you've learned about Raven's murder so far? Maybe rehashing it will spark some ideas.”