Karma by the Sea (9 page)

“You have a phobia against relationships,” Joe observed. “Most women, from what I understand, are dying to get married.”

“I’m a divorce lawyer. The last thing I believe in is happily ever after.”

He pulled into the parking garage at the hospital, perching his shades on top of his head as they entered the building. “I aim to change your mind.”

They walked so close to one another that they could have held hands, but they didn’t. He opened the door to the hospital and she slipped inside first. A blast of arctic air made her grateful for the sweater.

“Do you mind waiting again?”

“No. But one day I’ll meet your Rita.”

“Preferably when she’s had her hair done and wearing furs.”

Joe smiled and plopped down into a hard plastic chair to wait.

She went to the nurse’s station. The same nurse was there as yesterday, so she was waved forward. “The doctor is in with Rita now. It might be a good idea for you to join them.”

K walked down the corridor, knocking once before opening Rita’s door.

She could tell right away that Rita had been crying. Leftover make-up and red rimmed eyes gave her away.

The doctor took one look at her designer casual attire and greeted her with his hand out. “I’m Dr. Lazar.”

“K Aneko. Ms. Hartley’s attorney. What’s going on?” She looked to Rita, but the older woman was playing possum. Eyes shut tight, lips clamped together. “I have to return to Chicago soon for a court hearing on Monday.”

She saw Rita’s hands clench the covers but the older woman didn’t make a sound.

“Ms. Aneko. Pleasure to meet you,” the doctor said. Mid-forties, salt and pepper hair, strong, smooth jaw. His hand shake was solid, giving off the vibe that he dealt with things head-on.

“And you,” she said with a slight smile. She looked toward the bed. “How is Rita?” she asked. “She looks very pale.”

“We’ve been giving her an IV of fluids, vitamin B too. Seems she wasn’t hydrated. That can happen,” the doctor said with a tap on the clipboard. “But I also see some liver damage. At Ms. Hartley’s age, there should be some signs of aging but this is, well, the liver of a drinker.”

Rita’s left hand clutched the blankets and K knew she wasn’t so asleep after all.

“And?” K asked.

“I’ve talked with Ms. Hartley and she’s advised me to be frank with you.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry that I prescribed the anti-depressant. I didn’t realize how much she was drinking. I believe that Ms. Hartley has a severe addiction and if she doesn’t seek treatment, her next attempt at suicide just might be successful.”

Rita turned the color of her sheet.

K didn’t have the heart to oust her. Instead, she was all business. “What do you recommend?”

“Five days detox here. We have a suite of rooms for our patients and there just happens to be an opening. Then daily meetings. She can regain her strength. Of both body and mind, I think. But I just can’t release her in the condition she’s in now.”

He pointed to the bed, where Rita was out. Medication, or stress, either way, K’s compassion warred with her need to get back home.

Rita in the hospital for five more days?

“I understand.” She nodded, hiding her turmoil beneath smooth professionalism. All the while she was inwardly screaming with frustration. They’d waited two months for Jamal’s court date. As it stood at this moment, she was going to miss it, which could put Jamal in jail.

She left the hospital room after signing the paperwork for Rita to be in a five day detox/rehab program, where they wanted to monitor her heart and nervous system after pulling her off of decades of pills and booze.

No money. No money
. Now she had to wait for Rita to be coherent enough to sign a check.

K met Joe’s sympathetic gaze and her eyes blurred. She hadn’t had an ally in so long it felt surreal. But she knew that Joe was on her side. He stood, took her elbow, and guided her out to the car parked in the garage.

Once she was seated, she leaned forward in her seat. The garage was dark, though sunlight filtered in through the cracks of the cement. “She has to be in a program for five days. Rehab. Pills and booze.”

Joe snickered. “How Hollywood.”

She knew it wasn’t his fault. He cracked jokes all the time—but this was her life they were talking about. “Not funny Joe.”

He immediately looked contrite. “Right. Sorry.”

“I have to go to Chicago.” How could she manage it?

“What’s so important it can’t wait for a week? Another high-society divorcee?”

“I have a client who needs me.” Remembering how scared and thin Jamal had been when she’d taken him under wing, how eager he’d been to embrace change, made her all the more twisted up inside. Like her, Jamal had grown up in neglect. His stormy island happened to be the Chicago back alleys.

“Reschedule.” Joe started the car.

“It isn’t that easy.” She rubbed the headache beginning at her temples. It had taken months, waiting for the court date. Getting just the right judge who had a soft spot for teens in trouble.

“Have you tried?”

She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “I’ll handle it.”

“Try. Trust me. I think you are supposed to be here, for Rita.”

“Wrong. I need to be in Chicago for Jamal.”

“Jamal?”

“He’s a kid that, well, he tried to steal my wallet.” She quickly explained the circumstances and Joe laughed.

“You were taken, K. Fleeced by a champion.”

“I was not. Jamal is in the Foster Center doing math as we speak.”

“He’s a con artist.”

“At sixteen?”

“It’s a matter of survival.”

“I know about survival,” she said, affronted.

“This is a different sort of jungle. I lived it for far longer than any teenager should have to. Believe me, he will let you down.”

“I
won’t
believe such a thing.” Her back stiffened and her jaw clenched. How could he be so callous? Oh yes. He had every reason.

“Okay. Don’t,” Joe said. “But you will get your heart broken.”

“My heart has been broken so many times it can’t break anymore.” She patted her chest and smoothed Rita’s pearls around her throat. “Bound by scar tissue.”

“Liar. You have a big soft heart hiding beneath that super body of yours and I intend to find it.”

“You’re back in your fantasy land,” K said with a reluctant smile.

“It’s not a bad place to be. You should come over to my zip code. We were meant to be together.”

“I don’t believe it. There is no Fate. No grand destiny.”

“How can you say that?”

“I was named after Namaka. No special privilege; if anything, I had more curses and tragedy to deal with—until I left the island, and moved away from the ocean. Chicago’s tall towers protect me now.”

Cradled her like a baby.

“K, you’ve got to help Rita out. Who else will watch the animals?”

K folded her hands over her knee. “The doorman. He’s done it before. What about you? In a pinch? I need to be back in time for Jamal’s hearing. If I don’t give the court my testimony he could be taken from the Foster Center and tossed in jail.” At sixteen, Jamal was a gangly kid. He’d be brutalized in prison.

“We are on the same side, here,” Joe said. “I’m all for protecting the innocent. But I’ve learned that most people, even the ones we care about, aren’t all that innocent. Jamal won’t mean to, but he’ll screw up. Don’t be naïve about it.”

“I don’t like how you’re talking to me,” she said. “I think Jamal will be the kind to make it. I understand what you’re saying, but Jamal is different. He wants to learn.”

“How about a quick overnight trip, and then fly back here?” he said. “America Airlines is having a sale right now on round trip flights to Chicago. I checked, to make sure I could afford you.”

Unless it was free? Probably out of her price range. “I don’t see the point in coming back once I leave.”

“Let’s go get lunch.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I feel at odds and ends.” There was no reason to build a friendship with Joe.

“Because you don’t have a plan. Let me help you make a plan…”

Was there any harm in that? It helped having someone around to bounce ideas off of—she’d just gotten used to talking to the ceramic pig in her office.

“I don’t know, Joe.”

“Be in the moment.” He reached across the console, cupped the back of her head and lightly brushed the white strands of hair with his thumb. “Don’t worry about what might happen a year down the road.”

He lightly massaged her nape and she softened. “Okay. Sandwiches at the park. You tell me about your master plan.”

“I’m just saying that you don’t have to give up Chicago to be with me.”

If he kept massaging her neck like that, she wouldn’t mind moving to Timbuktu to be with him and his magic hands.

Just maybe after lunch, he’d take her to bed.

*****

Joe loved the silky feel of K’s skin, especially where it was super-fine at her neck, and behind her ears or knees. Skin that was fresh, soft. Sensual.

“I think you should stay for the week,” he said. “We can figure everything else out on Monday.” He dropped his hand, slowly inching her dress up to show a little thigh.

“Monday is the hearing.” Her voice lowered and she cleared her throat.

“Fly back Sunday, then. Return Monday night.” He traced circles over the smooth skin above her knee, the feel of her skin turning him on. “I’ll pick you up. Take you out to dinner. Maybe back to my place.”

“So we can…?”

“I already told you that when you and I get together, it will be making love. The real deal, K, so just get used to it.” He tugged her dress back down to her knee, wishing she wasn’t so far away.

She looked out the window rather than argue as he drove to the specialty sub place that was so popular among the locals, the entire time searching for a black Lincoln. He’d driven around for a while after dropping her off but the car was long gone. He’d left a message with his partner to keep an eye out for it, saying it was a suspicious vehicle. But he wasn’t ready to tell the chief what had really happened. It would mean leaving, hiding, when he wanted to fight.

“Any special requests?” he asked.

“No.” She changed her mind right away. “I mean, no artificial crabmeat, okay? I can’t stand the stuff.”

“Pinky swear,” he said, hooking his finger to hers, letting his mouth touch hers just slightly. “Nothing artificial. You and me are the real deal.”

K sighed and moved closer to him.

“I’ll go order,” he said, reluctantly pulling back.

“No rush,” she quipped, switching gears from sex-kitten to lawyer in the blink of an eye as she dug her phone from her purse. “I’ve got some emails to answer.”

She was so together. A professional. His life was shit—emotionally, he was working his way out of the fire. Financially, he made decent money for a cop and he’d have a great retirement before he turned forty. Hell, he had time for a second career, if he wanted. But he didn’t have a house or stability that maybe she needed. Getting shot at this morning hadn’t helped win her toward his way of thinking.

He could buy a house. He wasn’t set on living on the sea. She’d stolen his heart, captured it without trying, when he’d pulled her from the ocean. How to make her see that they were meant to be together, especially when her hippie parents had ruined the mystical for her? He was just finding a spiritual way of looking at things himself. Chakras, energy and auras.

Maybe he could help her rediscover that part of herself she’d closed off when she’d left the island. She didn’t need to be alone.

If Joe had his way, she would never be alone again.

He walked into the sub shop and ordered all-meat subs, loaded. Chips, two pickles and two bottles of water.

He paid, taking the white paper bag with his food, and got back in the car. The rear window had to be replaced, but he’d take care of it after the department went over it tonight. He scanned the street.
Nothing
. Right now he wanted to convince K to come back after she flew home. How to do that?

He handed her the bag, which she put at her feet, giving him a funny look.

“What’s wrong?”

She held up her phone, shaking it at him. “Jamal’s court date was just rescheduled. For next week.”

He grinned.

“Seems the judge had a family emergency, and had to push everything back.” She put her phone into her purse. “Coincidence?”

“Fate, I’m telling you.” Joe started the car and laughed, checking the rearview mirror before pulling into traffic. “You and me, babe.”

“I am having a hard time believing this,” she said, leaning against the passenger side door and allowing lots of space between them inside his Honda.

“It is time for you to stop running so fast, K.”

“It’s what I do.” She crossed her arms, her body language closed.

“You might have had good reason.” He turned left, taking them to El Prado Park. They got out of the car and he fed the meter. “I work right over there, behind the town hall,” he said, pointing to a brightly painted cluster of single story buildings. “The fire department is right next door, too.”

“Let’s go see if they found the Lincoln,” she said, her expression concerned as she shaded her eyes against the sun.

“They’d call me,” Joe said smoothly.

“Maybe they’ll want to transfer you right away, to save you from any more death threats. Aren’t you scared?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.” She followed him to a bench that over-looked the ocean and sat next to him. The sun was warm but not hot, the breeze off the water pleasant.

K unpacked the bag, handing him a napkin and a sub wrapped in white waxed paper. “Chips, too? This is a feast. What did you get?”

“All meat.”

“Perfect.” She smiled at him, touching his hand. “Thanks for lunch. This is really nice.”

“You aren’t going to take off in a rage and yell at Namaka?” he teased.

Her eyes flashed with humor. “I’m glad you find it funny, but please don’t drag this story out at parties, okay?”

“You had my antenna for trouble going, actually. This gorgeous businesswoman yanking an unwilling suitcase across the sand, your chin up and fire breathing from your nose, the water in your sights—it wouldn’t have surprised me if you’d walked on water or split the sea in half just by pointing your finger. You shot off powerful sparks that sizzled once you hit the surf. Wanna hear something strange?”

She swallowed. “You’re quite the story teller,” K said. “I don’t know.”

“That sea was flat as glass, K, until you went in it. All of a sudden there’s waves, and a riptide?” He shook his head. “You almost drowned, and you were born in the water. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, dabbing her lips with the napkin though she hadn’t had a bite yet to eat. “I was cursing Namaka.”

“Cursing the sea goddess?” He took a big bite of the sub. “That explains everything.”

“I never know whether or not you’re being serious.”

“I am serious. Cursing a goddess that is your namesake, that you grew up believing in and have turned your back on, well, it might make some waves.”

“I don’t believe in her because she isn’t real.”

“You wouldn’t have cursed her if you didn’t believe a little bit.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I believe there is something bigger than this. Something besides what we see, feel, hear, touch. Want to know why?”

Sipping from her water bottle, she said, “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

He finished half his sandwich in a few bites, wadding the paper around the bottom half to catch the extra oil. “I believe because when I got this scar, here?” Joe pointed down to his side. Though the shirt covered the scar, K would never forget what it looked like.

“I was being tortured and it freaking hurt,” Joe said in a rush of words. “But if I gave up any names, I’d ruin everything we’d worked for, going on two years. Good people, innocent people, would die if I broke down.”

K’s eyes welled and she scrunched her nose, fighting the fall of tears.

“But I was in
agony
. Not only are they physically messing you up, they get inside your head, telling you there’s nobody coming. That you’ve been betrayed. Set up.” Joe put the other half of his sandwich on the bag and wiped his hands on a napkin. “I heard my dad’s voice in my head, stronger and louder than the guys who wanted me to suffer a slow death. He lent me his strength. I felt him, in here.” Joe patted his chest. “My dad died five years ago, but he was there for me, K. My life depended on it.”