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

“Glad I could be your entertainment this morning.”
    “Where’s your family? Carolinas?”
    “My mother was raised there, yeah. But I grew up in Savannah. The southern twang gave me away, right?”
    He nodded. “So, what brought you to St. Pete?”
    “Sylvia.” I chewed and swallowed a bite of omelet. “We met on a bulletin board. We were both attending an online business school. Just hit it off and kept in touch. When she had an idea for a pet boutique, she ran it by me. I had the money to invest in it with her and so, here we are.”
    “And your family was okay with you leaving?”
    “You mean escaping?” I frowned. “No. But, I’m hoping they’ll forgive me eventually.” I downed the last of my tea and wiped at the sweat trickling down my bare neck. I may have to switch to iced tea tomorrow. “So, what about you? Your family from here?”
    A haunted look gripped him, like he had just remembered something terrible. “My parents are gone. No siblings.” He reached down and picked up Karma’s empty plate. Karma took this as his cue and grunted as he pushed himself off the ground and stretched.
    Oh, I forgot. “Hey, Mad Dog? You know Frankie Maslow?”
    “Mama Maslow? Yeah, sure. Good lady. Millionaire and still takes time out to feed people. Why?”
    “Oh, I met her assistant yesterday. She brought in Frankie’s new puppies. I was thinking about asking if she wanted to team up for a fund raiser for the homeless. Is that something you think she’d be interested in?”
    Mad Dog rubbed his buzzed scalp and stood. “Sure, I guess. Just stay clear of her boyfriend, Vick. Guy’s bad news.”
    “Thanks for the tip.” I watched him shrug a shoulder into his backpack. “Hey, you be careful.” He waved without turning back. I did realize how ridiculous it sounded. Me telling this military trained tough guy to be careful, but I really was worried. What’s going on with all the injuries? And why were they his fault? I had to find some way to make him open up.

 
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    I rose with the morning sun and decided on a bike ride to Mirror Lake to see if I could talk to Frankie Maslow. I missed my sisters more on Sundays. Sundays back home had been something we always looked forward to. No work, just pancakes and gardening and girl talk. Neither one of my sisters were speaking to me right now, though. They couldn’t understand why I needed to leave, why I wanted to leave. Being “different” had never been a problem for them. I, on the other hand, wanted a normal life surrounded by people who considered me to be normal. I could only hope that one day they would understand.
    It was another gorgeous June morning, filled with the sounds of light traffic and bird songs. The sky was a soft metallic silver, brushed with wispy gray clouds as I steered onto the Third Avenue sidewalk. A few early risers perused the area. The ride to Mirror Lake should only take fifteen minutes but I had packed an iced water bottle, a bagel and some fruit in case I had to wait for Frankie to show up.
    As I approached the road that circled around Mirror Lake, a ferocious barking echoed off the surrounding buildings from the other side. My muscles tensed. Could I outrun an angry dog on a bike? I hoped so. I steered off Mirror Lake Dr. and onto the sidewalk, my curiosity piqued as the barking grew more insistent.
    As I rounded the final bend, I could see police cars in the gated parking lot and a crowd of people in the grass. When I pulled around behind the police cars, I dropped my bike and weaved my way through the crowd. What was going on? Two of the officers had their guns drawn and pointed at the lake. A few others were trying to get the spectators to back up. I wasn’t real comfortable around guns but I was even less comfortable with an animal in distress.
    I slipped deeper into the crowd as another round of ferocious barking began. What had the poor thing so riled up? “Excuse me,” I said, feeling my foot