Murder Strikes a Pose (32 page)

might survive this pregnancy yet.”

I ushered the final straggling students out the front door, dou-

ble-checked the lock, and grabbed Bella’s leash for our evening

cleanup ritual. Three steps into the yoga room, I saw it: Jenny’s purse, sitting on top of the yoga mats
.
I couldn’t help but chuckle.

If Jenny
did
survive the pregnancy, I’d have to keep a close eye on her in Mommy and Me. She might forget the baby.

Still laughing, I slipped on my shoes and went out the back

door to get Bella from the car. I snapped on her leash. “Come on, pup. You’ve been stuck in here long enough.”

Bella and I opened the back entrance to the sound of knocking

at the front
. At least Jenny didn’t get all the way home this time.

Bella burst into action, barking and lunging, faithfully protect-

ing her studio from evil yoga student intruders. “Hang on a sec-

ond, Jenny!” I yelled. “I’ll put the dog away and be right there!” I slipped off my shoes again, dragged the scratching, snarling dog to the bathroom, and jogged back to grab Jenny’s purse.

I should have listened to Bella.

By the time I reached the lobby, Jake stood inside, smiling and

jangling his keys. I pasted on a fake smile.

“Hi, Jake. What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d stop by to check on the lights.”

My stomach dropped to my toes. I hadn’t complained about

the lights in over two weeks. My words sounded forced, even to

me. “Oh, well, you know … I think they’re fixed now. Really … they haven’t given me any trouble in days.”

Timing is everything. As if on cue, those bulbs started flicker-

ing like bizarre strobe lights. From light to black and back again, freezing every movement in an erratic series of freeze frames.

262

Jake’s eyes locked with mine in sudden understanding. His

right upper lip lifted in an evil grin as he reached back and easily locked my finicky door—the same door I’d been struggling with

for weeks. As for that damned pepper stray, it nestled next to my billfold, deep inside my purse—which was safely locked in the filing cabinet.

If there truly was a God up there watching, he had one sadistic

sense of humor.

Jake pulled out a revolver and pointed it at my chest.

“Go into the yoga room, Kate.
Now
.”

I tried to obey, but my feet were frozen to the carpet.

Jake touched the gun to my sternum.

“Move.”

I moved.

As we backed past the “No Shoes Allowed” sign, panic bubbled

up in misplaced hysteria. I burst into giggles. “Sorry, Jake, you’ll have to take off your boots.”

Jake wasn’t amused. “I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you.” He

closed the yoga room door behind us. “How did you figure it out?”

His face betrayed nothing more than a sense of idle curiosity.

My only hope was to keep him talking. “It was three things,

really. First, I couldn’t figure out who George would meet in the parking lot, of all places. George never stayed near the studio at night. The murderer had to be familiar with the area.” I backed

cautiously away from Jake, glancing left and right, looking for

something,
anything,
to distract him.

“Second, I couldn’t fathom why George would leave Bella

trapped in her crate alone. Everybody else dismissed it, but I knew he locked her up for a reason. At first I thought he was protecting 263

her. But it finally occurred to me—maybe the murderer insisted.

Maybe the murderer was afraid of her.”

Bella barked louder as she frantically tried to claw her way out

of the bathroom.

“But ultimately, Bella convinced me. She always liked people

before George was killed. I couldn’t figure out why that changed.

For a while I even blamed myself. But it finally clicked. She doesn’t like a lot of men these days, but she
really
hates you.”

“That stupid dog. As soon as I get done taking care of you,

she’s next.”

My mouth went dry. Of course.
He’d kill Bella, too
.

Fear yanked my mind from thought to desperate thought as

I tried to come up with a plan that would save us both. No one

could see into the windowless yoga room, so I couldn’t signal for help. I scanned the room for a weapon, only to see those useless

foam yoga blocks. I couldn’t even make a run for it. No matter

how fast I ran, Jake’s bullet would be faster. I had to buy time. If I stalled long enough, maybe someone would hear us. Maybe Jenny

would come back for her purse. Maybe—

My knees buckled under a terror so white-hot it felt icy.
Oh,
no. Please, God, please don’t let Jenny come back. Please don’t let her
get hurt because of me.
Black spots danced in the periphery of my vision. I gulped in air and tried to stay upright. I couldn’t pass out.

Not now. I needed to think.

Somehow, I managed to keep talking. “I can’t figure out why,

though. Why kill him? What could George possibly have on you

that would be worth killing over?”

“That lowlife scum must have been watching me. He knew I

was sleeping with Tiffany.”

264

My jaw fell open. The spots stopped dancing. My feet found

solid ground. This had already been the craziest night of my life.

Here I stood in my own yoga studio—a place that promoted non-

violence and inner peace—staring at a murderer’s handgun. I tru-

ly thought nothing else could surprise me.

I was wrong.

Jake was a murderer; I’d already deduced that much. Jake was a

cheater; well, duh.

But with
Tiffany?

I stared at Jake, dumbfounded. “Why in the world would you

cheat on
Alicia
with
Tiffany
?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Jake replied sarcastically, “but my wife’s not exactly a thing of beauty these days. There’s only so much baldness and puking a guy can stand before he has to get

his needs met elsewhere. And Tiffany was
oh so happy
to oblige.

Only that stupid bum figured it out somehow. I thought we were

careful, but he must have seen us. Guess I should have sprung for a hotel room.”

“And George blackmailed you.”

“Yeah, and the idiot couldn’t even do a decent job of that. He

asked for $48,000. What kind of blackmailer asks for a stupid

number like that?”

It seemed odd under the circumstances—I was, after all, about

to be shot—but I felt relieved. I knew exactly where George had

gotten that number. I’d done the calculations myself. Bella’s medicine would cost $4,800 per year, and she was likely to live another ten years. Forty-eight thousand dollars would pay for Bella’s medicine for the rest of her life.

I’d been right all along. George had been an honorable man.

He may have committed a crime, but he wasn’t a criminal—not

265

really. He was simply a good man, desperate to save the life of the one he loved.

“Truth is,” Jake sneered, “I would have given him the money,

but my wife controls the bank accounts. I could never get that

kind of cash without her noticing. I offered to pay him over time.

I even offered him a bottle of booze for his troubles.” Jake gripped the gun harder. “But the idiot insisted on getting it all right away.

I guess he figured that once Alicia croaked, he’d never see another dime.”

“But Alicia adores you! She never would have believed George.

And even if she did, so what? Washington is a community prop-

erty state. If Alicia divorced you, you’d still end up with half of her money. You’d be a very rich man.”

“You’d think,” Jake replied. “But Alicia’s family attorney is a

shark. He talked her into making me sign a prenup. If she divorces me, I get practically nothing.” His eyes turned cold. “I couldn’t risk it. Not when I’m this close. Especially not after all the work I’ve done to get her to trust me again. The doctors didn’t expect her

to last this long. With any luck, in a few short weeks she’ll be dead and I’ll inherit everything.”

My heart broke for Alicia. Of all people, she deserved better.

Jake continued, “It’s not my fault, you know. I didn’t plan to

kill him. But that bum made me so mad that I lost control and hit him over the head with the bottle.” He grinned cruelly. “Frankly, killing him that way shouldn’t even count as murder. Everyone

knows these guys all eventually die by the bottle. I just sped up the process a little.”

My hands trembled with anger as I bit back my response. If I

told him what I really thought, he’d pull the trigger for sure.

266

Finally I asked, “Was Tiffany in on it?” If I was destined to die, at least something good should come out of it. Tiffany rotting in jail wearing ill-fitting prison garb might have to do.

“Are you kidding? She’s a knockout, but she’s so dumb she can

barely tie her own shoes. Tiffany is strictly part of my junk food diet. Irrelevant and disposable.”

What a scumbag. Even Tiffany deserved better.

“Now, Miss Kate, I think we’ve chatted enough. Time’s a-was-

tin’ and I can’t be too late. Wifey Dearest might get suspicious.”

Terror threatened to overwhelm me again. “Don’t be stupid,

Jake. You’ll never get away with killing me. You should cut your

losses and run. Lock me in the storage room. You can be across the Canadian border or halfway to Mexico before anyone finds me.”

“Oh, I’ll get away with it, all right,” he said with a malicious

grin. “Don’t you worry about that. Everyone knows that front

door of yours doesn’t lock properly. I’ll make it look like a robbery.” He snickered softly. “Such a shame this neighborhood has

become so unsafe. I may even have to sell this building.”

My heart hammered in my chest. “Don’t you watch television?

The cops will find your fingerprints, your hair, and God knows

what else. They’ll know you were here!”

“Sure, they’ll dust for prints and look for fibers. But people

are in and out of this studio all the time. They’ll find hundreds of fingerprints and God knows how many different hairs and fibers.

And I own
this space.” He shrugged. “If they find my prints or hair among everyone else’s, well that won’t be surprising at all, now, will it?”

Bella hurled herself against the door, practically deafening me

with her roar. I had an idea. I hated it. In fact, before that very moment, I would have sworn that I’d
never
do such a thing. That only 267

a scumbag would take advantage of an innocent animal that way.

But I was out of options—and almost out of time.

Jake’s face twisted in anger. He turned toward the noise and

yelled, “Shut up!”

That was my chance. I bolted toward the bathroom.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Jake yelled. He tackled me a good three

feet before I reached the door. Blinding pain shot up my wrist as I hit the ground. I ignored it and kept fighting, using every self-defense tool Dad taught me. I punched and kicked and screamed

and poked, hoping I was hurting Jake more than myself. The gun

went off in a loud bang in the struggle. I wasn’t hit, but neither was Jake, and I was losing ground fast. Still holding the gun in one hand, he pinned my arms behind me with the other and dragged

me to my feet. I felt a painful pop as he twisted my shoulders behind me.

Jake snarled, “I’m going to enjoy this.” His upper lip twitched

under that evil, disgusting, Satan-like beard.

He pointed the gun at my head, and I knew with horrible cer-

tainty: I was about to die. But unlike that afternoon with Char-

lie, the thought of death didn’t immobilize me; it incensed me.

I roared, lashing out like a rabid animal, ignoring my screaming

shoulder. I wiggled free from Jake’s grasp and instinctively at-

tacked, sinking my teeth into his gun hand.

“You bit me, you bitch!”

The gun skidded across the floor. After a split second’s indeci-

sion, Jake shoved me away and lunged after it. Our conversation

days were over. As soon as he got to the gun, he’d shoot.

I told myself that I had no choice; that Jake was about to kill

Bella, too. That by putting Bella at risk, I was actually attempting to save her life. I hope it’s true. I pray it’s true. In the end, it doesn’t 268

matter. I ran to the bathroom door and God forgive me—Bella

forgive me—I opened it.

“Please don’t let her die,” I prayed.

Bella flew out of the bathroom in a rage. I swear her feet nev-

er even hit the floor. She sailed through the air and landed in the middle of Jake’s chest. He went down, screaming, as the gun skidded off again. This time I got to it first. Ignoring my pain, I pointed the gun at the writhing, struggling mass that was Bella and Jake.

Blood pooled on the floor. I could only imagine the damage being

inflicted by Bella’s powerful jaws.

Sirens wailed in the distance. At first I felt profound relief.

Someone had heard the commotion and called the police. Then I

froze in cold, stark terror. The cops were coming. They would be

here in seconds. Martinez’s words echoed through my head like an

ominous death knell. “Most cops won’t hesitate to shoot a dog that tries to attack them or another person. We protect human life over animal. Every time.”

When the cops arrived, they wouldn’t hesitate; they wouldn’t

ask questions. They’d shoot Bella on the spot to save Jake. And it was my fault. I’d opened that door knowing full well Bella would

protect me. I put her life in jeopardy. I, and I alone, would be responsible for her death. I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I knew it was hopeless, but it was my only option.