Karma by the Sea (3 page)

Her knees buckled but she quickly righted herself and he sensed that she wouldn’t welcome his help. He waited, knowing he’d give it anyway if she wavered again.

“Thank the goddess,” she said, looking back at the calm-again sea with a ferocious glare.

“’Scuse me?”

Her face turned red. “Nothing. I’m glad, that’s all.”

He hadn’t pegged her for the new-agey mystical type. “She asked you to stay at her condo until she comes home. Take care of the dog and parrot?”

Her shoulders sank. “What?”

“We must have water in our ears. Not hearing what we’re each saying.” He made a show of jiggling his ear lobe and leaning over to empty it out.

“Somebody must have made the mistake of telling you that you’re amusing.” She dropped her arms to her sides, her back straight as if reinforced with steel. “You are
not
.”

“Ouch.” Joe covered his heart with hand.

“I have to go home. To Chicago.”

He shrugged. “She said she left the front door-”

“Open.” Kay groaned. “I don’t like dogs. Or know anything about parrots.”

“Rita’s your client?”

Kay nodded and brushed a curl over her ear, her skin bronze.

“Then I guess you need to earn the big bucks.”

She winced. “Do you know for how long?”

He wrung out the bottom of his t-shirt. “I’m just the messenger.”

“What hospital was she taken to?”

“Dunno. Probably Holy Family. It’s closest.”

Kay pinched the bridge of her nose and snapped to attention like a soldier headed to war. “I can do this.”

He could have laughed, but didn’t, at her self-pep talk. “Good?”

She made a disgusted noise in her throat and walked toward her black leather suitcase, purse and bag. Her bare feet left prints in the sand, and he noticed that her toes were polished pink. “I can’t believe how today has turned out,” she said.

“And it’s just after one.” She’d been vulnerable for two minutes while puking on him then chinned up like the Queen of England. He hated to admit it, but he was intrigued. He’d liked the way she felt, tucked close to his body for him to hold and protect, as he’d helped her to shore.  He had the feeling she didn’t lean very often.

Kay turned, her hand on the curve of her hip. “In that case, good afternoon, Officer. I don’t think I require any more of your ‘assistance’.”

“Want to see if anybody took your wallet?”

“I should be so lucky. They’d have been very disappointed. Gave my last twenty to the taxi driver.”

“Sure you did.” He stopped himself from offering assistance as she started lugging her designer stuff back to the condo. “Take care, Ms. Akeno.”

He watched her go because even though she was a bottom-feeding lawyer, she was hot as hell. She’d been caught in a rip current, and maybe that was the reason he felt so itchy and bothered by her. Had nothing to do with those big, brown eyes. He’d saved her. In some countries, didn’t that mean she belonged to him or something?

“Give it up, Joe,” he told himself, watching her tug at the suitcase that didn’t roll so great on the sand. He doubted she had a heart underneath that work-of-art body.

Thanks to his on-going department-mandated therapy, he was learning to be all about the heart. But Kay had some damn fine legs.

K dragged her suitcase through the marble lobby, leaving a wet trail of sand. “I’ll be taking care of Rita’s pets,” she told a concerned Marge. “Just until she comes home.”

“She’s all right, then?” The woman’s cap of gray curls didn’t move as she nodded her head, her gaze traveling over K’s wet hair and clothes without saying a word.

“Yes.” K wasn’t sure if this was true or not, but people reacted better to firm, positive answers. It made them think you knew what the hell you were talking about.

The doorman exhaled. “If there is anything we can do?”

She paused. “Well. I’ve never had a parrot.” The dog she could figure out, but she knew zilch about caged birds. On the island parrots were wild and crapped on the cars.

“Ah,” the doorman said. “I watch over Lucky when Mrs. Hartley travels. She usually boards Princey.”

She could probably just Google the information, but if the man knew the bird, then it was a match made in heaven. “I would appreciate any advice. What does it eat? Rats? Snakes?”

“Lord, no,” the man said with a chuckle. “Fruits and vegetables. Grains. There’s a pail in the kitchen marked ‘Lucky’, he gets one scoop in the morning, with snacks during the day.”

She could handle that.

“Princey!” Marge clasped her hands over her heart as if the dog had just dropped dead to be at Rita’s side. “Poor thing will need to be walked, now, a couple times a day. We have a fifty dollar fine if you don’t bag the poo.”

K breathed in. She’d gladly pay somebody to bag the damn poo, but she was broke. “Got it.”

“And we don’t like our guests to let their dogs do the business in front of the place. Makes it look trashy.” Marge gave all of this information with a straight face. “We have a nice little area out back.”

“Anything else?” K’s headache returned with a vengeance.

“No loud noises or parties?” The doorman offered with a hopeful air. If the residents were all as old as Rita, there probably hadn’t been a shindig in the past twenty years.

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Please keep us posted about poor Mrs. Hartley. I’d like to visit her in the hospital,” Marge said with a sniff.

“I’m sure she would like that.” K gripped the handle of her suitcase tight, but kept her smile in place. “I don’t know where she’s at, though.”

“I can find that out. Only two hospitals to choose from, anyway,” Marge said, her fingers already tapping at her keyboard.

“Terrific. You’ve both been so helpful. Will you call up to the room once you find out?” She gave them each a wave and headed to the elevator, fighting with the sand stuck in the wheels of her luggage.

They pretended not to notice, which meant they’d probably witnessed her temper tantrum in the ocean, but figured she had too much money for them to mention it.

By the time she got off the elevator and onto the third floor she heard the yipping from Princey in the hall. No time to break down—she’d do it again in another ten years—she’d need to find a leash and a little plastic bag right away.
Ew.

It was a sad day when the highlight was not having to feed the bird raw meat.

The door, thankfully unlocked, opened easily and she shut it behind her, setting her suitcase near the umbrella holder.

“I’m coming Princey,” she called, heading toward the one closed door in the hall. She opened it, kneeling down at floor level for a pricey pooch with a diamond collar.

A Saint Bernard barreled toward her and knocked her on her ass.

“
Oof
,” she said.

“
Woof
!” he barked.

“What in the hell?” She braced herself as he licked her face with his rough scratchy tongue. “You should have a name like King.” She coughed. “Your breath stinks.” She pushed him back and they stared at one another, eye to boogery eye.

“I don’t even want to know what
you
eat.”

A knock sounded on the door and the dog lumbered over her, his hind paw catching her cheek. She jumped up. “Coming!” It had to be the doorman, who she’d have to bribe to take this dog out. How had Rita done it?

She opened the door, her hand latched onto Princey’s collar.

It was Joe Porter, Officer next-door. His green-gold eyes flashed at her, his dark hair falling over his forehead as he smiled. Very aware of looking like she’d barely survived a cyclone, she squeaked, “What are you doing here?”

He eyed the dog, her disarrayed clothes and her throbbing cheek. “Sit.”

Tempted to plop down herself, K was grateful when Princey followed the command.

“A Saint Bernard?” Joe asked. “In a condo?”

“I don’t have any answers.” She was oddly pleased to see him standing at the threshold, recalling the protection he’d given when he’d held her in the water.

“I called my buddy— he told me they took Rita to Holy Family. I checked, and she’s in room 123.”

“Thank you.” Now what? She wanted a shower and a change of clothes. Joe looked great, despite the unscheduled dip in the ocean. K did not.

“I feel like we didn’t get the chance to meet one another in our best surroundings.” He kept his hands at his sides, his stance relaxed. Her eyes dropped to the map of tattoos on his forearms.

“And you think this is better?” Princey inched himself forward so his head poked between her legs as he stared at Joe, his tongue lolling to the side. The dog’s potent breath wafted upward and her eyes watered.

Joe grinned and gave her torn skirt another once-over. “You should see things from where I’m standing. Maybe you could start a new fashion, the slashed skirt.”

Her view wasn’t so bad either. His confidence did a lot for the boy next door thing while the tattoos gave him a sexy edge. His clothes were slightly damp, like hers. K tilted her head and backed up, pulling on Princey’s collar so he’d get out of the way. “Come on in,” she said. “I don’t know my way around the place, but you’re welcome to grab a towel and dry off.”

“Do you have everything you need to stay for a few days?”

How thoughtful
. “As you probably noticed, I was dragging a suitcase earlier.  I wasn’t sure how long this meeting was going to take. While I had high hopes of getting back to Chicago tonight, I tossed in a pair of jeans and a toothbrush in case of emergency.”

“You’re practically a boy scout.” He brushed past her and the dog snuck a lick at his leg.

“I’d planned on staying in a hotel. With room service.”
As a treat with her well-earned money.
She released Princey’s collar and the dog bounded toward the couch to sniff the empty wine bottle.

“It might be best for Rita if you stay here at the condo.” Joe followed the dog, taking in the details on the coffee table.

“Yes, I agree.” She had no money, so she had no choice. For now, what mattered most was that Rita was in the hospital instead of the morgue. Breathing.
Alive
. “Princey, here, boy.” She patted her leg for emphasis. “There’s a broken wine glass. Rita took a few too many pills, and I don’t know if she dropped any. Although this dog is so big a Prozac couldn’t hurt him.”

The dog ambled toward her, tongue out. Just…happy.

“She overdosed?” Joe stacked the pill bottle, wine bottle and broken glass and headed toward the kitchen.

K wasn’t sure what he knew. But he was a cop, and his friend was the paramedic who’d taken Rita to the hospital. There was no covering the facts with evasive half-truths. “Yes. But I’m certain it was an accident.” She followed him into the kitchen.

He found the trash in the container beneath the sink, tossed it in, then shut the cupboard door. “No, you are not.”

“Excuse me?” K stopped short.

“You are
not
certain it was an accident. I realize you’re a fancy lawyer flying in as a favor for a client, but you don’t need to lie to me. In fact,” he leaned against the sink and crossed his arms to meet her eyes. His turned emerald with emotion. “I would prefer it if you stuck to the truth. I hate lies.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. The wonderful art form of stretching the truth was something she excelled at. “You’re taking away my super power.”

Joe burst out laughing. “You get bonus points for knowing your strengths.” He pushed away from the counter and came toward her, his hand on her upper arm to test her muscle. His fingers were warm and gentle with an undercurrent of power that gave her a thrill.

“In my job, being able to paint the scene is a skill,” she said. She pulled away from him, unsettled by the feelings his touch created. Probably because he saved her, that was all. “The clients like it, the judges tolerate it. The other attorneys are jealous.”

“I bet. But let’s make a deal, okay? No lies between us.”

Big mistake. “That puts me at a disadvantage.”

“Listen, I just don’t want to work that hard getting to know you. I’d like to help you out while you’re here, that’s all.”

He made his request sound so innocent. “What are
you
giving up?” she countered.

Joe snorted. “You’re a lawyer all right.”

“Fair is fair. If you want to make a deal like that, then you have to give up something of equal value.”

Joe clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowed. At last he said, “Okay. I won’t lie either.”

K laughed. “What? That is not the same.” She pointed at herself. “I’m a professional.” Not that she looked like one at the moment.

“It’s exactly on par.” He made a swiping motion with his hand.

“No. Not buying it. You are a cop. Thou shalt not lie, steal, whatever.”

“I was an undercover cop. I lied like a champ.” He curled his arm like Popeye.

K straightened her shoulders, intrigued. “Undercover?” 
Doing what?

“Yeah.”

The dog, deciding they’d been without his company for too long, barged between them in the narrow kitchen and gave a stinky
woof
.

“I suppose I better take him out.” She wanted to find out more about Joe Porter, but it probably wasn’t a good idea.

“I can do it.” He patted the dog’s head.

“It isn’t your job.”

“It isn’t yours, either.”

“But as you said earlier, Rita is my client.” Who had to get better, fast.

“This dog weighs more than you.”

Eyeing the drooling beast, K capitulated. “I don’t know how Rita does it. She’s at least seventy, if not older.”

“She probably has one of those spike collars. And he looks a little long in the tooth himself. Probably not up to chasing any squirrel tail.”

She sniffed. “A male will always chase tail.”

Joe chuckled. “Divorce lawyer? Yeah. Makes you jaded.”

“And cops aren’t?” she asked before returning her attention to the dog. “In this line of work, I’ve seen terrible things,” she admitted. “Mostly men deserting their loyal wives after years of freaking servitude for a little fresh ‘tail’. Rita’s ex-husband had a mistress on the side for years.”

“Monogamy isn’t for everybody.” Joe shrugged.

“You don’t have to preach to the choir,” K told him. “Marriage is bullshit.”

“
What
?”

K was surprised to see Joe’s shocked expression and quickly explained. “I’ve witnessed my own parents–married now thirty years–and my dad hasn’t been faithful for one of them.”

“I’m sorry, Kay.”

“Don’t be. It is what it is.” She walked out of the kitchen to the hall, escaping painful memories. Hadn’t she done enough touching base with her emotions for one day?

“Let me change into something less shredded, and then we can walk the beast together. Are you sure you don’t want a towel?”

Joe pulled at the hem of his shorts. “They’re almost dry. My shirt too.” He ruffled the tousled dark brown layers of his hair. “I’m fine.”

“A minimalist?” She pulled her hair up, feeling the sand at her scalp. “I require a shower and clean clothes. Then I’ll be ready for the next round of surprises. If you really want to help, I’d love a ride to the hospital. To see Rita?”

“Sure. I’ll Google what to do with parrots.”

K laughed as he voiced what she’d just thought earlier and walked toward her small suitcase. “I think the doorman is going to help out.” They had more in common than she ever would have thought. “Give me twenty minutes.”

*****

Joe watched her go, her back straight, her slim hips doing wonders for the thin skirt. She seemed like the type that needed an hour before they left the house. Plucking this, waxing that, adding moisturizer and perfume.

A delicious bite, if the man was willing to put up with all the extra filler.

He’d decided to help her, reluctantly impressed as she’d dragged that poor suitcase across the sand and into the condo. He’d seen her expression as she’d heard she’d saved Rita’s life. She’d been scared, not that she’d ever admit it.