Read Online Karma's a Killer by Tracy Weber - Free Book Online

of the building. Doggy daycare? Perish the thought. Bella would have to be the only four-footed creature on the premises. Ditto for leaving her with Michael at Pete’s Pets.
    The problem was compounded when Michael moved in with me and we started remodeling my tiny two-bedroom house. If we left my overly territorial German shepherd alone with the contractors, we’d come home to find construction-worker body parts scattered all over the yard.
    Besides, Bella—though perfectly content when guarding the back seat of my ancient Honda Civic—suffered from significant separation anxiety when left home alone. I couldn’t blame her. Her first owner had tied her up to a stake in his yard; her second left her locked in a crate the night he was murdered. Keeping Bella in my car wasn’t the most politically correct alternative, but according to her vet and her trainer, it was the safest, as long as the car remained cool. So I’d begged Alicia to rent me one of the resident parking spots inside the building and checked on Bella every couple of hours. The back-seat solution wasn’t perfect, but it worked for the time being.
    I clipped on Bella’s leash, glanced around to make sure no off-leash dogs or bearded men were nearby, and let Bella out of her mobile home away from home. She hopped to the ground, did a quick happy dance, and pulled me through the garage’s exit toward the large outdoor parking lot shared by the businesses.
    Bella stopped at the entrance to Pete’s Pets and nudged the door with her nose, clearly hoping to go inside and bond with her cool friend Tiffany. I could have sworn I saw the question Where’s the Cookie Lady? dance across her pretty, deep brown eyes.
    â€œSorry, sweetie. Michael and Tiffany aren’t here. The store is closed today because of the event at Green Lake.”
    I dragged my disappointed canine buddy away from the door, turned toward the front entrance of Serenity Yoga, and froze. A woman with a long braid loitered outside the entrance, holding one of my pamphlets.
    What was Dharma doing outside of my yoga studio?
    Up close, I could tell that Dharma was older than I’d originally thought, likely in her early fifties. Deep creases surrounding her eyes hinted at too much sun exposure and too little sunscreen. She wore minimal makeup, but then again, she didn’t need to. Her face was naturally attractive. In her youth, she had probably been stunning. Instead of the solid black outfit she’d worn earlier, she was dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and a light blue sweater.
    My skin prickled with the same apprehensive sense of déjà vu I’d felt earlier, as if this woman and I were somehow connected. I knew her, but how? I closed my eyes and tried to remember, but nothing pierced through the fog.
    When I opened my eyes, Dharma was staring at me. She raised her hand in a tentative wave. Bella moaned, relaxed her ears, and slowly swished her tail, clearly inviting her closer.
    â€œStay, sweetie,” I whispered.
    I watched, feeling uneasy, as Dharma moved toward us. When she was three feet away, Bella broke her stay, wiggled up to her, and nudged her hands.
    Dharma kneeled next to her and gently rubbed her ears. “Some big scary guard dog you are.”
    Bella leaned into Dharma’s touch, entranced by her new stranger-friend. She gave Dharma several warm, sloppy kisses and offered her paw. I was so taken by the ease of their friendship that several moments passed before I realized that Dharma was paying attention to Bella—at least in part—to avoid looking at me.
    â€œExcuse me, but do I know you?”
    Dharma froze, mid-scratch, and lowered her hand. She stood and tentatively reached out her fingers as if testing the burner on a recently turned-off stove. A smile touched her lips, then faltered. “Yes, you do. My name is Dharma. I knew you when you were little.”
    Every cell in my body reacted to this