Murder Strikes a Pose (23 page)

I finally understood why Dad acted so overbearing sometimes.

Granted, I’d been almost thirty, but when you loved something

and thought it was in danger, you—

Oh, no.

Anxiety fluttered underneath my sternum. I pulled to the side

of the road and took several deep, gulping breaths. This was bad. I couldn’t kid myself anymore. I wasn’t helping Bella because I owed it to George—I was starting to care about her. If I wasn’t careful, I’d soon fall in love. I needed to find her a new home, before it was too late.

184

twenty

“Imagine that your body is light—as light as a helium balloon,

floating away from the earth.”

My students all lay on the floor, completely still, covered up

with warm blankets. I fought the urge to lie down and join them.

Several hours after my visit to what I now called Jim’s Den of Dog Abuse, I led—or more accurately, sleep-talked—several students

through the practice of Yoga Nidra: an ancient meditation tech-

nique designed to relax and refresh.

I stifled a yawn and continued speaking in low, soft tones, as

if wrapping my students in a verbal cocoon. “Pretend you’re ly-

ing on a warm beach, soaking up the summer sun. Allow the sun’s

warmth to spread throughout your entire body.” My own body

swayed. A soft snore fell from my lips.

Get it together, Kate. This is ridiculous.

Yoga Nidra might be called “the divine sleep,” but I was prac-

tically comatose. I stood up, glanced around the room to make

sure no one was looking, and took a deep drink of the quadruple

Americano I’d hidden behind the flowers.

185

I tried to stay upright as I continued. “Feel the right side of

your body, and imagine light pouring through it, all the way down through your fingers and toes …”

Thirty interminable minutes later, my students folded their

blankets and prepared to leave. I could hoped they felt signifi-

cantly more rejuvenated than I did. Only one thought kept me up-

right as I ushered them to the door: If I worked quickly, I could clean up and be on my way home in ten minutes. A first-time student browsed through the retail area until everyone left, then approached me, smiling.

“What a perfect way to end the day. I’ve never felt more rested.”

That makes one of us.

I walked him toward the door, counting the seconds until I

could go home.

One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand—

“Do you have a second? I’d like to ask you a quick question.”

Ugh.
I pasted on a fake smile and said yes.

At least twenty questions and forty-seven minutes later, I

locked the door behind him.

Ten-seventeen. I wanted desperately to go home and crawl into

bed, but first I had to prepare the studio for the next day’s classes.

I considered leaving Bella in the car, but the thought of her sad, lonely eyes guilt-tripped me into bringing her inside. She pulled me into the studio and enthusiastically sniffed around, before

quickly deciding that nothing interesting had happened since the

evening before. Apparently bored again, she curled up in a corner to watch me clean.

“You know, I go through a lot of trouble for you, Missy Dog,” I

grumbled. “You could at least learn to push the dust mop.”

186

Bella had no janitorial aspirations. She had a more important

responsibility: self-appointed head of security. She sprang to her feet and roared, jumbo-sized claws scratching into the hardwood

floor.
Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Guard dog on the job!

What was she all riled up about now?

Bella charged to the lobby and hurled herself at the door, or

more accurately at Jake, who stood behind it, knocking and wav-

ing. “What are you doing here?” I yelled through the window.

“We’re closed!”

“I know, but Alicia told me you’re having trouble with the

lights. I’m here to take a look at them.”

“Now’s not a good time. The dog will never let you in.”

“Now is the
only
time if you want them fixed them this week.

Put the dog away and let me in! I’m tired of standing out here

shouting.”

I should have known I wouldn’t get off that easily. “Hang on,”

I said, resigned to an even later night. “I’ll take her out back and lock her in the car. I’ll be right back.”

I dragged the snarling monster-beast outside and shoved her in

the car, so exhausted I felt like weeping. A thousand dollars for an electrician suddenly felt like nothing. I’d have traded the winning Lotto ticket to go home and collapse in my comfy warm bed.

I forced myself back to the studio, one heavy step at a time.

When I opened the door, Jake sat comfortably in my chair with his feet on the desk, jangling a huge set of keys. “I have the master key, so I let myself in.”

I looked pointedly at his boots. “I’m glad you made yourself at

home.”

“I figured there was no need to stand outside in the cold.” he

replied, ignoring my sarcasm. “I would have come in before, but I 187

was afraid that dog would eat me.” He shuddered. “God, I hate that thing. I told Alicia you were crazy to keep it.”

“I’m not keeping—oh, never mind.” I sighed.

Jake swung his legs off the desk and planted his boots on the

floor. He looked from my eyes to my feet and back again. “You’re

looking really good, by the way. Is that a new haircut?”

I looked like a zombie, and I hadn’t changed my hairstyle in

months. I took several steps back, suddenly wishing my new stu-

dent hadn’t left so quickly. “Jake, it’s late. What are you doing here after ten at night, anyway?”

“I’ve been around the complex a lot lately. People are all riled

up about that murder.” He frowned. “You know, it’s bad enough

that we have to let those bums hawk their stupid paper on our

property. Couldn’t they at least have the courtesy to get themselves killed in their own part of town?”

“Your empathy and dedication astound me.”

Jake stood up and angled closer. “Yeah, well, we can’t have

you lady folk all in a tizzy. Someone’s got to make you feel safe at night.”

Did he really think I’d paid him a compliment? I tried chang-

ing the subject. “Let me show you what’s going on with the lights.”

Jake followed me into the yoga room. “I heard you found the

body. What was that like?”

“It was horrible.” I reached for the light switch. “Now, the flickering doesn’t always happen, but when it does—”

“Aren’t you scared to walk through the parking lot by your-

self now? Half the ladies in the apartments are scared out of their wits. They want extra security lights, neighborhood patrols, better locks—their demands have been driving me crazy. They act like

we’re made of money.”

188

I could have argued that he was, indeed, rich, but I doubted it

would make any difference. “No, Jake, I’m not scared. The neigh-

borhood is as safe as it ever was. George was targeted deliberately.”

Jake stepped back, looking surprised. “What makes you say

that? The cops are convinced the guy was killed in some drunken

fight. Not that I wouldn’t like a different explanation, but aren’t you letting your imagination get the best of you?”

Exhaustion left me cranky. “Believe me, Jake, I know what the

police think. I’ve talked to them, too. But I knew George, and he had a routine. He never stayed in Greenwood after seven.”

“Come on, Kate. You can’t possibly know—”

“And he hated leaving Bella alone. He wouldn’t have locked her

up unless he had a compelling reason.” I crossed my arms, defiant.

“No matter what the police think—no matter what
you
think, for that matter—whoever killed George knew him. His murder was

premeditated.”

Jake’s mouth fell open. “You think someone
planned
to kill him? That’s ridiculous! Look, I’ll be the first to admit that those street bums can be annoying as hell. But the guy who was killed

seemed essentially harmless. Who’d hate him enough to commit

premeditated murder? Sorry, Kate, but the police’s theory makes a lot more sense.”

“You’re wrong, Jake,” I replied. “I’ve been looking into this on

my own, and I know something that you don’t. George was black-

mailing someone. That’s who killed him.”

Jake flinched, as if startled. “Be serious, Kate. Who would he

blackmail, the local street preacher?”

That, of course, was the critical question. And I still didn’t have an answer.

189

“Maybe he was blackmailing you!” Jake teased. “I hear you

yoga people are into some pretty weird stuff. Wasn’t the
Kama Sutra
a yoga text? Maybe you’ve got something going on here that I don’t know about.” He elbowed my ribs, grinning. “A little ‘happy ending’ yoga, perhaps?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I ground my teeth together. I knew Jake was kidding, but I still

felt like slugging him. “Look, Jake. I don’t have all the answers yet, but I’m not going to stop looking until I figure it out. Now, can we change the subject, please? I thought you wanted to look at the lights.”

We spent the next twenty minutes playing with those blasted

lights. I turned them on and off. I dimmed them. I put them on

full strength. I tried every possible setting. They’d acted up all week but now that I wanted them to misbehave, they were in perfect working condition.

“I swear, Kate. Sometimes I think you make up excuses to

spend time with me. These lights are fine.” He eased closer. “But feel free to call if you want me to come back. Maybe we can figure out a creative way to break them.” He paused meaningfully. “Only

leave the dog at home.”

He walked half out the door then turned back. “Kate, I still

think you’re wrong, but you might want to stay out of this mur-

der business, just in case. Messing around in murder sounds like

a good way to get hurt. I’d hate to see that pretty rear of yours in trouble.”

He’d been gone almost ten minutes before I realized I’d forgot-

ten to tell him about the broken door.

190

twenty-one

I awoke the next morning to the steady drip, drip, drip of Chi-

nese water torture. Fluid fell from above, landing squarely between my eyebrows. Was this the universe’s newest prank—a roof leak? I

slowly cracked open one eye, terrified of what I might find. I came face-to-face, or rather nose-to-drippy-nose, with a bored-looking German shepherd. Bella towered over me, willing me to awaken.

Drool fell drop by drop from her lower lip, splashing into an ever-expanding pool of saliva on my forehead. “Gross! Knock it off!”

I yelled, sitting up and vigorously wiping my face. “Can’t you at least close your mouth?”

Bella leaped off the bed and began her morning barking ritu-

al.
Listen up
! she announced.
It’s breakfast time
! I jumped up and joined her, determined to make today a better day. After all, we

create our own destinies, right? I prepared Bella’s food and set the timer. The pulverized, moistened, medicated kibble needed at least twenty minutes to incubate before Bella could consume it. I decided to spend that time nourishing my own body with a revitalizing

yoga practice.

191

I started the same way ancient yogis began their morning prac-

tices over a thousand years ago. I faced my mat east— to honor

to the morning’s sunrise—and began the first of twelve Sun Sal-

utations. The strong flow sequence warmed my muscles and re-

vitalized my mind. A delicious burning sensation spread across

my arms and shoulders, then down my belly and legs, as I floated

through each repetition. Rivulets of sweat dripped down my back,

but my breath continued to be long, smooth, strong, and deep—

evidence that I worked effectively without overexerting.

Bella watched my movements curiously, as if trying to decipher

the point of this strange human game. At first she tried to join in by licking my face each time I lowered my body to the floor. When that didn’t work, she nudged my hands as I returned to standing,

either looking for treats or hoping for neck scratches. She eventually gave up and wandered to the corner, where she lay down and

watched me, her expression a mixture of confused boredom.

“Sorry, pup. You wouldn’t understand.”

By the time I finished practicing forty-five minutes later, my

mind buzzed with the energy of a caffeine addict after a triple shot of espresso—but without the annoying jitters. A delicious tingling energized my fingers and toes; a sensation of warmth spread across my shoulders, back, and thighs. My body rested heavily on

the mat, as if rooted to the earth, but my heart seemed open and

light, as if connected to that universal spirit of joy the ancient yogis called ananda—unending bliss.

I luxuriated on the floor for several more minutes, daydream-

ing about Michael’s and my first night together. I closed my eyes and smiled, remembering his touch. The tingling in my toes

quickly moved up to my root chakra, if you know what I mean.

192

This would never do. I shook my hands and feet, forcing my-

self back to reality. I arose from my mat and cooked a quick-but-

delicious bowl of Scottish oatmeal heavily garnished with dates,

raisins, almonds, and brown sugar. As Bella and I slurped down

our breakfasts together, I planned the rest of my day.

I looked at the clock. Sixty minutes until my first private client.

How should I spend that time?
I
could
spend it cleaning my fur-covered house. I
could
spend it finishing the studio’s bookkeeping.