Third in the series about a yoga instructor and her faithful German Shepherd, called the Downward Dog Mystery series, this instalment has a lot to live up to! So far we've seen crime solving from a yoga studio and on an island health retreat; now in KARMA'S A KILLER the Seattle based yoga instructor Kate Davidson gets involved with a pet shelter and dog yoga.
Karma is a way of suggesting that your deeds come back to you so you get what you deserve. Kate tries to live calmly and usefully, but even she finds a fun run with dogs chaotic. The Seattle park teems with people and pets, but when she tries to sit apart for some quiet time, she overhears two women having a dispute over whether the dog shelter which is today's charity is really well- intentioned. From the sound of it, these ladies are animal rights activists. Maybe they know something she doesn't. Plus Kate's boyfriend Michael runs a pet store, and his girl assistant has started ogling him and wearing tight tops. Her dog and handler yoga class turns chaotic, then a fire starts near the goats. Could the day get any worse? Kate doesn't know it yet, but a long-lost family member is in the crowd, and another attendee is about to meet an untimely death.
Comedy and tragedy come hand in hand in Tracy Weber's enjoyable stories; the death is of a distinct personality while we can depend on tongue-lolling dog antics to distract us from tragedy and sometimes from clues. Bella the Shepherd is protective to a fault and dislikes other dogs, so between that and needing a special enzyme in her food, she makes the case that pet owning is about responsibility. Michael dislikes Kate's practice of involving herself with murder suspects, but he decides he's better to help her than fight about it. The couple are growing as individuals and together as the series continues. We also see Kate teaching several yoga classes and keeping herself grounded while she tracks down the killer. I especially like the tree climbing episode! KARMA'S A KILLER and this mystery is great fun. Breathe deeply before you begin.
When Seattle yoga teacher Kate Davidson agrees to teach
doga
(yoga for dogs) at a fundraiser for a local animal
rescue,
she believes the only damage will be to her reputation.
But
a few downward-facing dogs are the least of Kateโs
problems
when an animal rights protest at the event leads to a
suspicious fire and a drowning.
The police arrest a woman claiming to be Kateโs estranged
mother and charge her with murder. To prove her
innocence,
Kate, boyfriend Michael, and German shepherd sidekick
Bella
dive deeply into the worlds of animal activism,
organizational politics, and the dangerous obsessions
that
drive them. All while discovering that when it comes to
murder, thereโs no place like hOMe.
EXCERPT
CHAPTER 5
The shouts that drowned out Maggieโs words were
impassioned, if a little misguided.
โBreak down the cages!โ
โClose the dog warehouses!โ
โAnimal ownership is slavery!โ
Over twenty people, all wearing black shirts with orange
flame insignias, cut a swath across the grass, waving
picket signs and yelling at top volume.
Two teenage girls held onto opposite ends of a banner
that read โHumans for Ethical Animal Treatment. Turn up
the HEAT!โ
Ravenโthe younger woman Iโd seen arguing behind the
paddle boats earlierโmarched next to them holding a sign
in one hand and a leash attached to the neck of a
handsome, thirtyish, olive-skinned man in the other.
Eduardo, I assumed. I shaded my eyes with my hand and
examined the object of the two womenโs confrontation.
Even from a distance, I could understand his appeal. With
broad shoulders, deep cocoa eyes, and wavy black hair
that curled under his ear lobes, this man would easily
make more than one womanโs heart go atwitter. His one
glaring fault was the sandpaper-thick layer of dark
stubble covering the lower half of his face. No amount of
shaving would keep that beard-in-the-making under
control. Even thinking about it made my skin itch.
His dark leather jacket and matching motorcycle boots
contrasted hypocritically with the sign that he carried:
โAnimals Are Sentient Beings, Not Possessions!โ His face
wore a trapped, agonized expression, though that might
have been part of the show.
I scanned the area behind him, looking for Dharma and
Goth Girl. I didnโt see either.
The dog walkers stopped talking, stared at the ruckus,
and scowled. No one seemed to be having fun anymore,
which was probably the protestorโs intention. A short,
rail-thin young woman stomped away from the picket line,
knocked a hot dog out of a childโs hand, and yelled,
โMeat is murder!โ
Michael pulled out his cell phone. โThatโs it. Iโm
calling the police.โ
Maggie closed her eyes and sighed. โI canโt believe sheโs
actually going through with this.โ
โYou know one of them?โ I asked
She shuddered, but her eyes never left the protesters.
โNever mind. It doesnโt matter. Sally, take Mrs.
Abernathy to the pet first aid tent and โฆโ
Her voice trailed off. She glanced left and right. โWhere
on earth did Sally go?โ
The Bunny Lady wrinkled her nose, ill humor back in full
force. โSally left a few minutes ago, which is exactly
what I should have done. You obviously donโt have control
over this fiasco.โ She slipped the rabbit into her bag
and stomped several feet away before turning back to spit
out two final sentences. โDonโt bother cashing that check
I gave you earlier. Iโm putting a stop payment on it as
soon as I get home!โ
Maggie cradled her face in her hands. โCan this day get
any worse?โ
She shouldnโt have asked.
The words barely escaped her lips when Daleโs head jerked
up. โDo you smell that?โ
I did. I would have recognized that smell anywhere.
Gasoline.
I heard a loud swoosh, punctuated by a louder explosion.
New, significantly more frightening, words rang out
across the field.
โFire! Somebody help! The garbage cans are on fire!โ
Daleโs face turned as white as his beard.
โOh no! The goats!โ
Michael and Maggie ran toward the registration desk,
while Dale, Bandit, and I tore off to the petting area.
Picketers and dog walkers scattered in every direction.
By the time we rounded the corner, the fire was already
spreading. Hot yellow flames licked from the recycle bins
to the loose hay surrounding the petting area. Within
seconds, the entire line of straw bales had ignited,
creating a flaming, Hades-like fence.
The teenage volunteers had already rushed the children
outside the fenced area, but the goats were still
trapped, huddled together in the corner farthest away
from the fire. Michael skidded to a stop behind me and
blasted the straw bales with an extinguisher, but the
fire was spreading too fast. He may as well have been
spraying the Towering Inferno with a garden hose.
Dale tossed Banditโs leash to a gawker. The blond
volunteer held the gate open while his brother, Dale, and
I scrambled inside. Michael kept spraying the
extinguisher, holding the flames back as best he could.
The goats refused to move.
โForce them to the entrance,โ Dale yelled.
I channeled my inner Goth Girl, waved my arms, and
yelled. โGo you stupid goats! Run! Get out of here!โ
The three of us screamed and clapped and pushed and
stomped, until the terrified animals bolted from the
enclosure and charged into the park, straight past the
onlookers, who were too transfixed by the flames to do
anything but watch.
Dale gathered the final fear-frozen spotted kid in his
arms and carried it away from the flames. Sirens wailed
in the distance.
โGet the truck,โ he said to the blond teen. He handed the
baby goat to the other.
It seemed like a century passed, but it couldnโt have
been more than a few minutes before firemen started
dousing the area with cold water. Dale kept a watchful
eye on his skittish herd, huddled several hundred feet
away. A few people broke off from the crowd and tried to
approach them. โStay back!โ Dale yelled. โJust block them
from the road. And for lands sake, donโt chase them.โ
Michael came up behind us. โShouldnโt we try to round
them up somehow?โ
Daleโs expression was grim. โTheyโre too riled up. Give
them a few minutes to calm down. Theyโll come to me.โ His
voice didnโt sound confident.
The blond teen drove a livestock truck onto the field and
parked. He jumped out of the cab, opened the back, and
pulled down a wide ramp. Dale grabbed a metal pail from
inside and filled it with grain from a five-gallon
bucket.
โHope this works,โ he muttered.
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