Karma's A Bitch (A Pet Psychic Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the others as they inspected the cars.
    Time to skedaddle before the questions started. “Come on, boy.” He resisted, looking from me to Mad Dog. “Come on, Karma. Let the nice men do their job.” I wiped at the sweat dripping down my chin and the tears blurring my vision. I couldn’t bring myself to look back at Mad Dog. I knew he was gone. I had to concentrate on helping Karma now.
    “All right, Ma’am. Please wait by the police cars. We’ll need to speak with you.” Detective Blake waved the team of people over that were standing by.
    I grabbed his big head and made him focus on me. “You have to come with me now, Karma. He’s gone.” With one last whine, Karma stood up—his head and tail hanging—and walked away from his best friend. His body pressed against mine as we trudged back up the embankment and under the police tape. I was numb and my legs felt like jelly. I whispered to Karma, trying to sooth him. I led him to my bike and grabbed the ice water before walking back over to wait by the police cars but he wouldn’t drink it.
    We sat in the grass, my arm draped across Karma, stroking his bristly fur. I watched as officers took pictures, put things in bags and eventually brought over a large white bag to zip Mad Dog up into. I noticed Karma lift his head at this point, his brow furrowed deep between alert brown eyes and he softly whimpered.
    “I’m sorry, boy.” I let the tears fall and said a few silent words for Mad Dog.

 
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
    The crowd had begun to disperse. Detective Blake smelled like suntan lotion and fresh air as he squatted beside me with a notepad. I stared up into his face, which was all I could do at this point. I was drained and going into emotional shock. Karma was my lifeline and I was holding onto him tight.
    “You doing all right? Looked like you were going to pass out there for a minute.”
    “Been better.” I forced a smile because he really did look concerned. It didn’t work, though. He was still frowning at me.
    “So…Miss?”
    “Winters. Darwin Winters.”
    He scribbled in his notebook. “I assume you knew the victim?”
    “Yes. He was my friend. Mad Dog.” Then it occurred to me I didn’t even know his real name. This threatened to burst through the numbness with a bucket load of tears. I choked them back. “I…guess that wasn’t his real name.”
    “It’s all right. We can ID him through fingerprints. Probably has a record.”
    “Why do you say that? He was a nice guy.”
    “He was homeless. They usually have been arrested for something…loitering, theft, public intoxication. Can I get an address and phone number?”
    I was busy biting my tongue.
    “Ma’am?” He held up the pen expectantly, his eyes darting over my face.
    “Of course.” I gave him the information. “You know, he was a Gulf War Veteran. He fought for our country and that’s why he was homeless. He wasn’t lazy or a drug addict. He had PS..TD..” I stopped. Was that right? PTDS?
    “Post traumatic stress disorder.” Detective Blake’s mouth bent into a slight, curious smile. “How long did you know him?”
    “We had breakfast every morning together this week.” Saying it out loud, it didn’t seem so long. “Long enough for me to know he had found some kind of trouble. Do you think you’ll be able to catch who did this?”
    I should have known when he took too long to answer me.
    “This will probably be ruled a suicide.”
    “What?” I sat up straighter and felt Karma tense up beside me and focus on the detective. “No! He wouldn’t take his own life. He wouldn’t leave Karma.” I motioned to the mastiff.
    He turned his head and looked back at the lake, weighing something. “There was an empty bottle of Bacardi 8 Rum a few feet away.”
    I shook my head. “Well, that doesn’t mean he drank it. He had been sober for five months.”
    “It’s a rough existence, Miss Winters. People with easier lives fall off the wagon every day. Trust me. I’ve