Karma by the Sea (5 page)

“No, I am. You came all this way to celebrate.”

“You started without me.” The plan was a glass of wine, a fancy lunch and home to Chicago. Second plan was a fancy dinner, a nice hotel and room service. There was never a plan to hang out in her client’s apartment with enough underwear for one day.

“Yes, that’s right.” Her eyes closed as if the conversation was too much. “I didn’t mean to…”

The older woman drifted off, leaving K wondering what to do next. There had been no opportunity to ask about her check. No chance to find someone else to take care of her pets. K walked out to the nurse’s station.

“Hi. I’m K Aneko.”

A dark haired nurse with the hint of a mustache looked up from the chart she was filing. “Hello. How was Ms. Hartley?”

“She fell back asleep. Listen,” K said, shifting weight from one foot to the other. “I was wondering if Rita would be coming home tomorrow?”

“I sure don’t know.” The nurse picked up a clipboard as if she could find the answers among the codes. “She has you listed as a contact number, so we can call when she’s ready to be released.”

“So I’m just supposed to wait?”

The nurse blinked.

“I’m sorry. Not to be rude, but I live in Chicago. This was going to be a quick meeting. I have appointments to keep.”

The nurse drew herself up. “Ms. Hartley’s mental state needs to be evaluated before she will be allowed home.”

“She just told me she didn’t mean to overdose.”

“Aren’t you her lawyer?” She tapped at the clipboard with all of the secret information.

Chastised, K hitched her bag up her arm to her shoulder. “Yes.”

The nurse relented an inch. “We’ll know more tomorrow, but if the doctor feels she is in any way a harm to herself or others, she won’t be released.”

K left with a nod. “Thank you.”

Now what?

She met Joe in the waiting room.

“How is she?” he asked, getting to his feet.

“Sleeping. Joe, she told me just now that she didn’t mean to OD, but the nurse said she won’t be released until they’re sure she’s got her shit together.”

“That’s fair. She must have good insurance. Usually hospitals boot you out the door.”

“I don’t know…” she felt funny about it, as if they weren’t disclosing something. “If she came in as a suicide attempt, they have seventy-two hours to hold her. But if I tell them that it was accidental, that has to mean something right? She can be released and come home.” She had to be home in five days. Jamal needed her for the court date hearing. There wasn’t enough room on her credit card to buy a ticket back to Chicago.

“Come on. Let me treat you to a burger at Aruba. You look worried, but there’s nothing you can do.”

K put her hand over her uneasy stomach. “I don’t know…” How was she going to fix this?

“What else are you going to do tonight?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Talk with the parrot?”

“I have work.” She didn’t have any court appearances for the rest of the week, but Jamal’s hearing was Monday. K had to be back in Chicago to plea in defense of the teenager, or he’d just get lost in the system.

“Take a few hours off. This little town by the sea isn’t too bad.”

“I grew up in a village by the sea,” she muttered.

“Like you said earlier, it’s paradise.”

“No, Joe. It was awful.”

Joe watched her as she reasoned her way through agreeing to get a bite to eat. She tapped her heel against the linoleum and tugged at the platinum wave falling over her ear. He could guess what was going through her mind, but he’d rather sit down with her and get to know firsthand what she was thinking.

“All right. I can take care of things from here in the morning.” She exhaled and shook out her hands. “I would love a hamburger.”

Joe offered his arm, and she looped hers through his. He felt a dart of recognition, as if she fit him. They walked to the garage. “A part of me was afraid you were going to be vegetarian.”

“I went through a phase,” she said with a wave of her hand. “But I like meat too much. Pork, chicken, steak, veal, duck. I like it all.”

“We don’t have to get a burger. You look really great—we could go somewhere nicer, once I change.” She was the kind of woman that turned heads. Kay had style, charisma. And damn if she didn’t have sexy down to an art. A strong, confidant woman totally at odds from the one he’d yanked from the ocean.

Or was she? She’d been furious, fighting something primal. He recognized it, having faced his own personal demons for years.

“No, no,” she said, shaking her blonde mane. “A medium rare burger is just the thing. With a dark beer.”

“My kind of woman,” Joe said. She was nothing like the ones he’d dated while undercover. They’d been rough and tumble, like him. And now, traveling between safe place and safe place, he’d had few intimate liaisons that lasted more than a month.

His fault, he knew, but it was difficult to trust someone else when you couldn’t trust yourself.

Joe opened the car door for her, liking the way she slid in with her knees tucked to show off her legs to advantage. The skinny jeans were molded to her body, leaving nothing to the imagination.

No, Joe corrected himself, his imagination was on overdrive. Forget the jeans, and just have her naked. In those heels. He closed the door and muttered toward the sky, “Get a grip, Porter.”

This time Kay found a radio station she liked, so they listened to music on the way to the restaurant. She sang off-key, but with enthusiasm. “I just discovered a place in Chicago where they have karaoke,” she said. “I took some of the ki, some friends, there and we rented a booth for twenty dollars for two hours. Soundproof, of course. It was fun. Do you sing?”

Joe pulled into a parking spot across the street. “In the shower? I’m the next American Idol.”

“Yeah, me too. That’s why it’s so cool that those rooms are sound proof!” She opened the door once they parked, not waiting for him to come around.

They walked to the crowded restaurant, where people milled about outside with drinks while listening to the one-man band or waiting for a reservation.

“Want to sit in the bar?” Joe asked.

“If we can find a table,” Kay agreed. She scrunched her nose as she breathed in. “I can smell the salt in the air.”

“I smelled grilled meat. You have to tell me why you hate the ocean.”

“It’s a long story.” She released her hair from the knot at the back and it fell to her shoulders.

“We can order dessert.” He’d take as much time to get to know her as she’d give him.

“Cute.”

He put his name in with the hostess, asking for a corner table where they could people watch and still have a conversation.

“Do you come here a lot?” she asked.

“I’ve been a couple times with the guys from the department.”

“Ah, come on, Joe. A guy like you has to have a dating life.”

“A guy like me?” He patted his chest. Television, working out the physical body, meditating for the mental part. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re cute.” She reached over to caress his biceps and the dragon tattoo he’d gotten as part of his previous life. “In great shape. Kind of funny, and so far I haven’t caught you tearing wings off of butterflies. You’re a babe magnet.”

Joe grinned. “Really? Cool.” Kay thought he was cute? He had to think about that. He’d prefer sexy, but cute was a start.

She nudged him, her brown eyes flashing with amusement. “Fess up.”

“All right. Busted. I am a serial dater with a string of women following me all over the world. When I said I worked undercover? I meant
undercover.
”

Kay laughed and danced forward. “I knew it.”

The hostess called Joe’s name and led them to the back of the busy restaurant and bar. The rectangle table was small, but perfect for intimate conversation. Joe nodded at the hostess. “Thanks.”

They sat, Kay on the side that faced the action, Joe on the side that faced the ocean.

“Now?” he asked. He didn’t understand anybody not liking the wide-open sea.

“After our drinks come. I need sustenance first.”

They each ordered a Guinness and Joe chose the scallops wrapped in bacon to start off. Once the foamy drafts arrived, Kay lifted her glass. “To Rita.”

He clinked his to hers. “Rita.”

Kay drank, then put her glass down. “Have you ever heard of Namaka?”

“No. I didn’t do that well in school though, so don’t take it personally.”

She traced the condensation on the thick clear glass. He liked the soft pink nail polish on her short fingernails. It matched her toes. “She’s the Hawaiian Sea Goddess. I was named after her.”

Joe drank his beer, suddenly interested in Hawaiian culture. “All I know about Hawaii is they have volcanoes and they dance the hula.” He took another drink. “I imagine everybody running around in grass skirts and coconut bras.”

“Even the men?”

“Especially the men.”

She laughed, and some of the tension eased from her shoulders.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…”

Kay folded her napkin. “Really?”

“I think you should, though. Just to get it out.” He was dying to hear her story. Hell, all of her stories.

“Now you sound like a therapist.”

“I’m not. I’ve just been to so many that I could play one on TV.”

She leaned forward, one elbow on the table. “You spend a lot of time in therapy?”

“Yeah.” Joe shrugged, noticing the way her eyeliner shaped her oval eyes. Not Asian, but Polynesian?  “I have anger issues.”

“Yeah, right.” She took a drink of her beer.

“True. But we aren’t talking about my anger issues—you were going to explain your freak out in the ocean today. You seem like a well-adjusted woman, now, but does the ocean make you crazy or something?”

“Or something.”

The scallops arrived, allowing them to each retreat for a moment before coming back out to play in the getting to know one another dance.

She speared one and popped it in her mouth. “This is delicious.”

“Can’t go wrong with bacon.” Joe couldn’t believe his luck in finding a woman who liked to eat. His previous experience with women was that they viewed food as the enemy. At least on a date. Not that this was a date. It sort of felt like one, though. Music in the background, drinks, sharing their pasts. She thought he was cute.

Kay finished chewing and sipped her beer. “Okay. I’m named after the Sea Goddess. My mother, whose name is Buttercup, just so you have a feel for who
she
is, decided that I should be born in the ocean water so that I had the strength of the sea in my veins.”

“Buttercup?” Joe saw that Kay was serious, so didn’t laugh. “You were born on the beach?”

“Sand, salt water, and the moonlight, with a few friends playing drums to welcome me into the world.”

Joe bowed his head to hide his smile. She sounded so mad. “I’m trying to get it, Kay, because you seem really pissed about it. But that sounds freaking awesome to me.”

“That is a popular observation from the few people I’ve shared this with.” She sat up straight rather the relaxed slouch she’d been in, and Joe realized she was no longer having fun.

He held up a hand. “Can I do that over?”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes narrowed, her pretty red mouth a thin line.

Joe exhaled. “You were born on the beach? What if something would have gone wrong? Was there a doctor nearby? A real doctor instead of a medicine man?”

Kay seemed to realize what he was doing and her shoulders dropped a bit as she chuckled. “I’m sorry. It really is upsetting to me—I can’t explain the situation without explaining my parents. My dad is a native Hawaiian. My mom a hippie born to hippies. I had zero boundaries growing up.”

“Your parents are still together, you said?” And her dad unfaithful.

“Yes. But my mom won’t divorce my dad no matter how many times he messes around.” Kay’s eyes turned hard. “She won’t protect herself.”

Huh, Joe thought. That explains quite a bit about Ms. Aneko right there. “What made you move to Chicago?”

“I wanted far away from the Pacific Ocean. Chicago has Lake Michigan, but there aren’t any deities associated with it that I know of. Besides, I stay in the city.”

Joe offered her the last scallop, which she ate with obvious delight. “Thanks.”

The waitress came and they ordered another round of beers and their burgers. Mushroom and Swiss for Kay, double bacon and cheddar for Joe.

“I normally don’t order cheese, but I’m going to have to run extra tomorrow anyway because of the beer.” She reached across the table and put her hand over his, her fingers caressing his knuckles. The simple touch went straight to his groin. “I might as well go all in, right?”

Joe liked the sound of that. A lot. He turned his hand upward so that their fingers were entwined.

*****

K hated to be a downer, but Joe kept asking questions that were depressing as hell. She did not have a golden childhood, despite what it looked like to the outside world. It was difficult to defend herself over and over to people who just didn’t get it.

Who knew Joe had all that therapy under his belt? And anger issues? She hadn’t seen him come close to losing his temper, not even when she’d regurgitated salt water on his shirt.

Instead of therapy, she’d done self-help books and psych classes through college, searching for clues in how to forgive her parents. How to get beyond the death of Paolo. It was a work in progress, as so many things were.

“When was the last time you went home?” Joe asked.

“Chicago is my home.”

“Sorry. Hawaii.”

“I grew up on this little island that you have to either fly into, or take a ferry to. Molokai.”

“Was it claustrophobic?”

“No. There was a strong sense of community, which probably helped save me, in hind sight. I mean, I had the freedom to wander the entire island from the time I could walk. It was good that Pa,” she swallowed hard, “people watched out over me. They knew my mom. Dad. They understood.”

“Did you feel like you were part of the ocean, being born in it?”

“My mom tried to sell me on that line of garbage.” It had worked, too—until the freak storm came and capsized the canoe she and Paolo had taken out to the bay. “Fate, destiny. Mom believes we are all connected by the water.”

“A lot of people do.”

K blinked back unwanted moisture from her eyes.  She’d believed it too. Once. “No. We make our own way in this world. I was born in a place where I had to survive my childhood. Once I graduated, I was gone. I never fit with them. I liked the structure of school.” She shrugged. “I knew if I showed up early, I could have breakfast. If I got good grades, there were rewards from the teachers. I got a scholarship to University of Chicago. Being poor didn’t matter because everybody on that island was eking out a living from the land. It could be done, but it was hard. Really hard when your parents preferred smoking dope to working.”

Joe nodded, his green-gold eyes filled with empathy and compassion.

“Someone very close to me was taken, and when I asked my parents for help, my mother told me to pray to Namaka. That she was my guardian. Mother of us all,” K said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and drained her beer. “Yet that bitch took Paolo from me without a single reason why.”

“Paolo? Boyfriend?”

“He was everything to me. From preschool on.” K clenched her jaw. Damn, why was this coming up now? “Without him…”

Joe waited for a while, allowing her to move through her grief. “What happened?”

“A storm came in. Brought us out from the bay where we were whale watching, to the sea. Our canoe tipped.” Her heart ached, then eased at the retelling. As if Paolo wanted to be remembered here, when she’d tried so hard to forget him.

K took small breaths of air through her nose to calm her nerves. “Never mind about him. Anyway, you asked why I hate the ocean. Now you know.”

Joe squeezed her hand, not letting go. “Do you believe in the gods and goddesses in the Hawaiian tradition?”

“I was raised that way. I’ve turned my back on it all. I never got the comfort from it my family did.”