Karma (Karma Series) (14 page)

Him wiggling his eyebrows was my last straw. I got up and left the office, his chuckles taunting me as I closed the door. I wanted to go back to the cafe and watch Charlie, as sick and masochistic as that might
have been. I wanted something I knew just for a while, a small taste of normal to keep me going. But the chance that Fate might finish sooner rather than later stayed me from walking out of the building. Instead, I went to go and sit at my table.

I was surprised at how many people were in the office when I got there. I grabbed a
newspaper and went to the corner, as I normally did.

About fifteen minutes later, Kitty the cat herder walked ove
r and stopped in front of me. It was the first time she'd ever approached me. As far as Kitty went, though, she didn't seem to talk to anyone too much, so it wasn't that insulting.

The black cat weaving in between her legs na
iled me with a stare, jerked its chin up slightly in what looked to be a greeting and then went back to rubbing its head along Kitty's leg.

I found Kitty to be slightly scary. It wasn't because she was large and intimidating
; she was actually quite frail looking. It was the crazy that scared me. She looked like she'd just been let out of the mental ward for good behavior, but you weren't sure how long the sane spell would last.

I looked up, not exactly sure what to do with her. Didn't these people understand I'd already reached my crazy quota for the year?

“I sent you many cats.”

Her flat, monotone voice didn't offer any hints to whether that was supposed to have been a good thing or a bad thing.
Yep, this was definitely going to put me over the top.

“
Uh, thank you? Are they at my apartment?” I wondered if I should go run over and see if this woman had shoved a herd of cats into my condo. How many were we talking about?

“
No, before you died. I sent you cats. Many cats.”

“
That was you?” The hair on my arms stood up. I remembered them. I'd even mentioned to Charlie how I kept seeing black cats everywhere I went. I'd thought I was crazy.

She leaned in closer, her palms on the table.
“You didn't have to die.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
I only send cats when it's something that can be avoided. I knew what was coming, but it didn't have to be. You had a choice. You've had more choices than anyone.”

“
I don’t understand.”

She stood up straight and started walking away.

I grabbed her arm to stop her. “Please, I need to know what you mean.”

“
I don't know anything else.” She pulled away, finishing a conversation that was sure to haunt me for the rest of my time here.

I could've avoided this?

When Fate didn't come back to the office by six, I gave up. Hank gave me a ride back to my Honda, which was still sitting on the street outside the luncheonette and miraculously didn't have a ticket.

We'd lost our chance at figuring out who the Bad Guy was for today, but Fate would get another lead. He
’d better, after he blew this one on us. But who was Bad Guy after? And why?

I didn't know how long Fate would be helping
Mother, so I decided to swing by the grocery store. I’d pick up a couple of things for my place and have a quiet night out on the balcony, overlooking the ocean. I didn't expect to see old guy perusing the produce when I got there, his Fedora sitting low on his brow.

I pushed my carriage over to where he was
picking through some fruit mounds.

“
Did you know I was going to be here?”

“
What? I can't go shopping for some fruits and vegetables without looking suspect?” He smelled the tomatoes and then placed them in a bag. “Ripe tomatoes smell like the plant near their stem.”

“
Who exactly are you?”

“
I'm Paddy, a recruiter. I thought we'd covered this.” He moved over to the pineapples. “Now with these, you have to pull a leaf from their stem to check for ripeness.”

I ignored his fruit ripeness course and got to the subject.
“A recruiter no one knows?”

“
I can't help it if all the young kids are too self obsessed to be bothered with an old man.”

“
Okay, well, it was nice to see you.” I pushed my carriage over to the next aisle. I really didn't need apples that badly and I couldn't handle any more complications or lies at the moment. I didn't know who Paddy really was, and it was probably for the best he wasn't going to tell me.

Except it didn't look like he was done with me.

“So, what have you and Fate been up to?” he asked as he followed behind me. I turned around to go get apples. If I was going to be stuck with him, I might as well get what I intended.

“
You mean the Fate that doesn't know who you are?” Granny Smith apples, bingo. I grabbed a few and turned to head toward the shampoos, hoping he would disappear like he had the first time I'd met him.

“
If you want to find your man, perhaps it would be wise to target someone he wants on the grid.”

“
What do you know about it?” I asked, not surprised in the least that he did know. Recruiter my ass. “Just be straight with me, are you the guy in charge or something? If you are, I've got a serious bone to pick with you.”

I looked up from the Pantene and he was gone. If I wanted him to stay, he left. Wanted him gone? He stayed. This Paddy guy was pissing me off. I was tired of this existence of riddles and
non-answers. People who treated me badly and then turned around and sweet-talked whack jobs who threatened blizzards in the middle of spring.

Losing the mood to shop, I grabbed a
tube of toothpaste, a rotisserie chicken and checked out. I loaded up my Honda and headed back to the condo with his words “On the grid,” repeating in my head.

I managed to get a few hours of peace
before Fate barged in at eleven.

W
ithout so much as a single rap on the door, he came in and planted himself right in front of the T.V., so all I could see was a sliver of poor Jimmy's suit.

“
What are you doing?” He motioned to my reclined state on the couch.

“
Watching Jimmy Kimmel?”

“
You know what I'm talking about.”

“
I was going to come over after this was done.” If I leaned my head against my palm, I could almost make out Jimmy's mouth.

“
Bullshit.”

“
You're right. I was coming over after I watched Craig Ferguson. But, I would have left the minute it was done. Well, I mean, unless something else good came on after that.” I looked up from the spots of TV to him and shrugged. “You know how it is.”

“
Get up.”

He stepped closer to the couch and loomed over it. I, in turn, s
ank deeper into the cushions, not wanting to relinquish my comfy spot.

“
Can't we take a night off?” There was a whiny quality to my voice that was cringe worthy. I felt like a dog, begging for mercy as I lay on my side and stared up at him.

“
No.”

“
You don't want to be glued to me, either. I think it's for the best. Maybe every other night is a better idea?”

“
You agreed. Get up or I stay here and there's a lot less room here to pretend.”

He decided to demonstrate this by squeezing next to me on the couch
, his hands picking up my outstretched legs so he could shimmy underneath.

I jumped up. I was not having any more
moments
with Fate. It was much easier to forget he was there in his larger home. Grabbing my stuff I walked to the door and he followed me out.

“
Where's my car? Someone stole my car!”

Fate laughed where he stood next to me.
“No self respecting car thief would touch your Honda. The Jinxes are driving it over to my place.”

“
They're eleven. Why would you do that? Why not just let me follow you?”

“
They aren't eleven. They just look it and I didn't expect you to come willingly.”

“
So you were going to kidnap me, if necessary?” I said as I followed him to his car.

“
It's not kidnapping if you previously agreed,” he said as he opened my car door. “Get in.”

“
It would still have been kidnapping. You’d never find a jury that would agree with you.”

He shut my door and got in his side before he continued the conversation.
“There's one huge problem with your logic—there is no jury system anymore. Not for us. If I say it's not kidnapping, who's to say differently?”

I hugged my purse to me.
“What about Harold? What if I told on you?”

He looked my way,
smiled and shook his head before he started driving.

A lifetime spent learning and working the legal system, all for nothing. There were no laws for me here. I was living in the Wild West.

I leaned my head back on the seat and sighed. “We need to talk.”

“
I thought that's what we were doing.”

“
I don't have a lot of time left. I don't like you, you don't like me, but it would be nice to get through this
experience
without being miserable every second of the day. Getting along with you, who I spend so much time with, would help.”

I watched his face, expressionless as far as I could tell.
“You're positive you aren't going to stay on?”

There was something odd about the way he asked
, but the day had already been too long. I couldn’t rouse my brain enough to try and figure out what Fate was thinking or why he wanted me gone so badly. I’d just accept it for what it was. “There is nothing about this existence that I find even the least bit desirable.”

It was true. An eternity of doling out justice to the dregs of society was at the bottom of my list of must dos.
There was only one murder left in me before I moved on and the target was most deserving.

In my human life, I'd wanted to become a judge. Maybe it was
a good thing I'd never gotten to realize that dream. It probably wouldn't have been that much different.

“
Okay. Truce.”

Some of the tension of the day left me as he said that. I had too many other issues. I needed to save what fight I had left in me to take out the man that had killed me.

As we drove the rest of the way to his house, I kept thinking about what Paddy had said. “As far as figuring out who Bad Guy is, would it be easier to focus on one of his human targets? You know, someone on the grid, so to speak?”

He pulled into the garage
and then paused. I went to open the door and he clicked it locked. “On the grid? Why'd you choose that term?”

“
I don't know.” I opened the lock but before I could open the door, he locked it again.

“
That's an odd choice of words.”

“
And locking me in a car in the garage is an odd action. I don't know why I chose those words, now let me out of the car, psycho. We have a truce, remember? Bullying is not a healthy start.”

“
You, bullied? Sure, like that could ever happen.”

He made a flourish of his hand toward the car door and I opened it and got out. I followed him out of the garage into his kitchen.

“A mortal would be a lot easier to track. Only problem with that plan is, we don't know who he wants.”

He tossed his keys on the counter, poured himself a drink and headed to the deck
without another glance at me. I grabbed my purse and then paused.

“
Don't forget not to come in—”

“
Got it,” he yelled right before the door to the deck shut.

What a dick. I couldn't believe I found him attractive. I was an embarrassment to all
self-respecting dead girls everywhere.

“Bob, it's great to see you!” I watched my father greet a friend who used to be in the service with him. The man entered our house, a gift bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “How long are you going to be in town?”

“
Just a few days. I've got some appointments on the West Coast this Friday.”

“
You didn't have to bring anything,” my father said as he patted him on the back.

“
I wanted to.” The man turned and looked straight at me, in a way that made me want to run to my room and hide. My father seemed oblivious to my reaction, and the slimy feeling this guy gave off, and was still smiling away.

The man handed me the gift bag. I didn't want to take it but I saw my father's face behind him giving me the look. The
“Camilla, you're being rude again” stare. I reached out a hand and took the unwanted gift.

“I hope you like it.” There was something in his eyes, the way he looked at me, that made me freeze up.

“
Say ‘thank you,’ Camilla,” my mother said as she walked in the room.

“
Thank you.”

“
I bet you’ll turn into quite a little lady when you grow up.”

I nodded and
then took off the first chance I got.

I shot up in bed, trying to catch my breath.

I'd lied. I did know Bad Guy.

He had looked exactly the same twenty-five years ago and, even then, I'd known something was off with him.

I jumped out of bed and looked around the house quickly. After I was certain I
was alone, I powered up the laptop Fate always left sitting on the side table.

My mother was big on ancestry so I knew every site to hit, complete with passwords. It t
ook me about fifteen minutes to find Robert Reynolds. He’d supposedly died one year after that dinner. My guess was he'd been dead long before then.

No wife or children listed. His parents didn’t exist. Robert Reynolds never actually existed.

I'd just cleared the history when Fate walked in. There was no way I was admitting I knew this guy now, not after his reaction to even a hint of recognition.

“
Hope you don't mind, I borrowed your computer.”

“
That’s fine,” He said as he moved around the kitchen.

“
What happened to the Karma before me?”

I saw his movements falter for a hair of a second before he continued taking things out of the fridge.

“You want some French toast?”

“
Sure,” I stood up and walked over to the breakfast bar that faced the kitchen, waiting for him to talk on his own. I had a feeling this was a touchy subject and I didn't want to press. Fate wasn't the type you could push into a response, anyway. He was either going to tell me on his own terms or not at all.

“
A month before she died, she came to me and told me about a man she'd seen. She said she thought he was like us. From that day on, she had become obsessed with him.”

“
What did she tell you?”

“
Nothing but a description of what he looked like.”

“
Which was?”

“
Exactly like Bad Guy.” He placed a plate in front of me, but I noticed he didn't make himself one now. “The day she died, she called me and said she'd spotted him again. I asked her to wait for me to get there, but she said she had to follow him or she'd lose him again.”

“
And then what happened?”

“
She disappeared. Harold said she retired, but it's a lie. She's dead.”

“
How can you be sure?” I forced down a bite but had lost my appetite as well.

“
She wasn't due for retirement and Harold knew that as well as I. She wouldn't have left without saying goodbye.”

“
What about the rest of the office? No one else is suspicious?”

“
I haven't spoken to them about it.” He leaned on the opposite counter, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“
Why not?”

“
I don't want them involved.”

“
I'm involved?”

“
You have to be. You're also leaving. They aren't. It's better for them to stay out of it.”

I pushed the plate away after I forced down enough to not be rude.

“So he must have known she was searching for him. Whoever he is, he knows about us.” He certainly knows about me.

“
Which means he’s somehow like us,” he said, finishing my thoughts. “But I'm fairly certain he wasn't ever with us.”

“
Why?”

“
Because I've been around a long time.” He walked out into the living area and I swiveled on my stool to follow him around the room.

“
Is there anyway for this transition to happen accidentally?”

“
It's never happened before, but I couldn't rule it out.” He paused for a moment. “I've got a job,” he said, and left.

With no other current leads, I decided to do a little office reconnaissance.
I should probably be at work anyway, demonstrating my active participation.

An hour later,
I was looking up at the black felt board that listed all the inhabitants and their office suites.

Then my eyes lit on
“Custom Toys.” He was real? I'm coming, Santa! I did a little hop in place before I caught myself.

It wasn'
t even a question of where I was going first, straight to the big guy himself. Santa. I wondered if he had a north pole. If he did, maybe I could visit it before I left?

I took the stairs two at a time to the third floor, Unit #307. I wondered if he had some reindeer hidden somewhere. Maybe the roof?

I swung the door open, expecting candy canes and big boxes with bows. Maybe some milk and cookies?

I was a little disappointed that it looked the same as our reception area. I was hoping it would appear a bit more...I don't know, magical toy land?

With no one behind the desk, I went over to the door that would lead to the back offices, and hopefully Candy Cane Lane, and rapped quickly. All the fun was probably back there.

“
Coming!” said a high-pitched voice. The door opened a minute later to what could only be described as an elf. The inner child in me was screaming “YES! YES! This is what I was hoping for!”

“
You're the transfer?” he asked, his voice was high but with a strange raspy quality, like he alternated between sucking on helium and an unfiltered cigarette.

“
Is your boss in?”

“
No. He's on Spring Break. You know, it's our off-season? Even the big guy needs to get some rays in. He's down in Cancun, right now.”

“
Okay, well, I just wanted to drop by and say hello.” I tried to look past him but all the lights were out and the blinds must have been down.

“
Come back next month.”

“
But I won't be here.”

He shut the door in my face.

I wasn't going to get to meet Santa? That just sucked.

I walked from the office
, more disappointed than an adult woman might want to admit, and headed toward my next stop. Dr. Bright, the tooth fairy. It felt a little like the lame consolation prize.

I was trying to remember which suite he was in when it hit.

***

I leaned against the wall in the hallway, trying to catch my breath. It had come on so strong and suddenly, it had taken me aback. A vision of a woman lacing her elderly father's tea with cyanide hit me like a cinder block across the forehead.

They lived in
a small house in a suburb right outside of Dallas, Texas. The clock on their kitchen wall struck twelve, as they were about to sit down to lunch. It would be the final lethal dose, but it wasn't his time to go.

The
tooth fairy would have to wait. I ran down to the parking lot, the closest place that would be large enough. I reached into my pocket and dialed up a door. In spite of any animosity they might harbor for me, the guards appeared quickly right there in the middle of the pavement. The door showed too, what little of it there was. It only opened about ten inches wide.

“
Oh, come on guys! I have to squeeze through that thing?”

The only response I rec
eived was the right guard raising a gloved hand. He pointed toward a different ding I hadn't seen on his armored chest plate.

“
Okay, I get it. Still paying me back. I deserve it. I ruined your stuff.”

I squeezed through the small spot, trying to mask my struggle.
“I understand. I dinged your suits. We started off on the wrong foot but I'm really not a bad sort.” Thirteen more days. “I just need to say, I'm a very nice person once you get to know me,” I continued to speak as I pulled my leg through the last little bit.

Instead of any reply, they slamme
d the door. “If I were to hang around for a while, you would grow to love me!” I yelled at where the door had just been.

I'd been left in the middle of a playground, a few blocks away from where I knew my job would be. A dirt bike that had seen better days
—hell, maybe even better decades—was lying in the dirt in front of me. I guess I was biking the rest of the way.

I
yanked a handle free out of the sucking mud that didn't particularly want to let go. Wasn’t there a drought, right now? Yet, here I was, smack in the only mud pile within sight.

I looked around and saw some kids playing baseball further away on the playground. They were completely unaware of me, even as I had to duck to avoid getting hit by their ball. I didn't think that had gone unnoticed by the guards
either. They probably wanted me to get pegged in the head. I hopped on my so aptly named dirt bike and started pedaling away.

The house was right where I'd thought. It was a yellow ranch with d
ingy, white crooked shutters. It had an overgrown lawn, more weeds than grass.

I rode
around to the side and leaned my bike up against the house. It was ten to twelve as I approached the side door. And older man sat at the table while a younger woman, who I knew was his daughter and soon to be murderer, moved about the kitchen.

I stood there
for a moment, looking in the screen door, making sure they wouldn't notice me. When she walked toward where I stood and looked outside, right past me, I knew I was in the clear. It was such an odd thing, being right there but invisible to her. She stepped away, her worn flip flops slapping her calloused heels as she walked back to where the man sat at the table.

I opened the door and walked in. My hand was shaking slightly as I shut the door. The woman was quite large and I wasn't sure how I'd fare in a fight. Track marks ran up and down her arms and I knew drug addicts could often be quite tough. I'd defended quite a few
in court, but as their attorney, they'd had motivation to play nice.

“
Now, Dad, I'm going to take this and cash so I can buy things for the house.” She pushed a greasy strand of hair behind her ear and I wondered when she’d showered last. She looked at the check in her hand as she stood next to him by the table.

I walked over to where her purse sat on the counter and was about to riffle through it for the cyanide when he spoke.

“Hello.”

I swung around to see the older man staring directly at me.

“You can see me?” I was ready to grab a knife to protect myself from the attack surely to come from the daughter, but she looked right past me when she glanced around the room.

“
Who are you talking to?” she asked him.

“
Her,” he said and pointed to me.

“
You've completely lost it. You're lucky I don't stick you in a home.” The daughter went back to rifling through a pile of mail on the table.

I shook my head.
“She can't put you in a home,” I said to the man. “She wants your Social Security checks. How come you can see me?”

He shrugged.

The daughter stashed the check in her pocket as she opened another piece of mail that probably wasn’t hers and walked in the other room.

“
Are you here for me?” he asked.

I knew exactly what he meant.

“No.”

“
For her?”

“
Not the way you think. I'm not killing anyone. I'm not Death.” Not today, anyway.

I dug into her purse and found the cyanide.

“Goodbye,” I said. I left the house, but I knew my job wasn't done.