Karma (19 page)

Twenty-five year old Martin Quinn had a problem. He had
fallen deliriously, madly, utterly in love with a married man's wife.

That in itself wasn't the problem.

Martin had known Debra from junior high and had been in
love with her for years. Debra Berger was the perfect woman. A woman he had
always imagined was out of his reach. Only now she wasn't.

Not only was Debra now well within Martin's grasp, but
stealing Debra away from Trent Berger wouldn't be a sin. In fact it was the
right thing to do. Martin Quinn always tried to do the right thing. He was a
good man. An honest man. What Trent Berger was doing to his wife, Debra, was
wrong.

Trent Berger was a selfish, cruel scumbag. He didn’t
deserve a woman like Debra. Martin decided that it was up to him to take him
away from her.

The question was, how could he do it? Money was not the
problem – Martin had money. Yet there were other factors to take into account.
Debra's father and Trent Berger for a start. Martin would have to move carefully.
He needed information.

Mike Thompson had told him about a friend of his that now
worked as a PI. A guy that had once been employed by Las Vegas PD as a
policeman, David Abbot. Abbot investigations - that was the name. Martin would
look him up and pay him to investigate Trent.

Once he had the information he needed, he would be able
to decide the best way to achieve his goal. Divorce in Las Vegas only took a
few weeks if both parties agreed. When Martin finished with him, Trent Berger
would allow Debra to divorce him.

And then I will be able to marry her myself,
Martin mused happily.

~~~

John Cooper, Debra Berger's father, sat at his desk in
front of his computer deep in thought.

At fifty years old he was still big and strong. The look
in his eye, the set of his jaw - it all combined with his confident, self-assured
stride that proclaimed he was a self-made man. A man that it wouldn’t be wise
to fuck with.

Right now John Cooper was unhappy.

That was because his only daughter was unhappy. Oh, Debra
didn't say she was unhappy, nor did she act out of character, but sometimes a
father just knew. Thanksgiving dinner at her house had gone off without a
hitch. Conversation was normal, everyone acted perfectly. But that was the
thing.

It had been all a big act.

Trent Berger was a chummy ingratiating son-in-law. Well,
that was expected. John had looked into his history before he married his
daughter. The man had no criminal record. He was top of his class at school. He
was an excellent orthodontist.

During Thanksgiving dinner references were made about
them having children. So far so good.

Then why was Debra unhappy?

John hadn’t led a perfect life. In fact he had engaged in
just about every vice known to man. He had strong-armed people. He had lied and
cheated, and made his first million through, shall we say, non-transparent
means. This was Vegas after all. John could be prosecuted for tax evasion
alone. But all that was in the past. He had been on the straight and narrow for
years.

His wife, Mary had been a good woman. If she had lived, John
wouldn’t be worrying about Debra. Debra was one of the only good things he had
ever done in his life. He had sent her to all the right schools. He had raised
her just as her mother, God rest her soul, would have wanted. So where had he
gone wrong?

The only thing now would be to investigate. John wasn't
going to investigate his daughter – hell no. He knew that there was nothing
wrong with Debra. But Trent Berger? Trent, he would look into. Just what was
that man doing to make his Debra so unhappy?

He googled Vegas private investigators, and Abbot
investigations came up first on the list. David Abbott. John scanned through Abbott's
qualifications, which included being on the Las Vegas Police Force for ten
years.

An experienced ex-cop. Good enough. He had a strong
sounding all American name, too.

John picked up the phone, and gave the man a call.

~~~

David Abbott sat in his Ford Mustang Boss 302. Even
though he had bluetooth installed, he always pulled over when he got a call
from a possible client. That way he had all his attention on the call, and
could take notes as needed.

For this case he hadn’t needed to take many notes.

David considered calling his friend Mike Thompson
immediately, and then decided against it. He would re-investigate the mark first,
and think it through.

A few weeks ago, Mike Thompson had asked him to conduct a
full inquiry on Trent Berger. Today, on
the same day
, two more people
had also asked for a comprehensive investigation to be carried out on Trent
Berger.

David's curious mind just loved a puzzle. There were so
many questions. Why Berger? Why now? And what was the connection between these
three different clients?

Mr. Trent Berger was a wealthy man – at least on paper he
was. He had a practicing orthodontic clinic named, "Perfect Smile
Dental." Berger also cheated on his wife with other women. Well, many men
did that. Some cheated with other men, too.

Infidelity was nothing new.

Mr. Berger had a separate account in his own name where
he salted away money that his wife, Debra Berger knew nothing about. Again, many
married men did exactly the same thing. Of course the IRS might be interested
in Berger's little offshore account. It was quite likely that the money placed
there never had tax paid on it.

His father-in-law would be interested, too. Particularly
as he owned half of the business that Mr. Berger was stealing from.

Other than that, the man had no criminal record. No
substance abuse issues. No children out of wedlock. No potential lawsuits.

As far as David could tell – that was it.

Trent Berger's customers loved him – the man did good
work. He never paid a penny of child support for his only child - which made
him an 'A' grade asshole. But again, spouses of both sexes frequently avoided
their responsibilities.

David rubbed his chin, took a deep breath and shrugged.
It was a mystery. Why were all these people interested in Berger right now?

Putting his indicator on, David pulled back out into the
traffic. As he loved a good mystery, David Abbott was looking forward to
working it out.

Besides, I'm going to be paid three times for one job,
he thought cheerfully.
It just doesn't get any better than that.

Mike
Thompson's jaw ached because he couldn’t stop smiling. This overpowering elation
was hard to tamp down. Katie and Marcy had moved in over the weekend. It hadn't
taken much to move them, mainly because they didn't have much.

Well,
that was just fine because he had plenty.

After
Barbara's death, Mike's sorrow had isolated him, setting him apart from
everyone else. He continued the everyday activities of living, mechanically going
through the motions like a spectator, rather than a participant.

For
so long Mike had a deep aching emptiness inside. He hid his anguish from his
family, his friends, and even from himself. In the end that relentless loneliness
had become such a normal part of his life that he had become unaware of his
unhappiness.

André
had seen through Mike's façade.

André
had always known.

With
Marcy that unspeakable burden had disappeared. Now he enjoyed a euphoric lightness
of spirit. Marcy was a balm to his soul. Did his gorgeous girl have the
slightest idea of just how much he needed her? Of just how much he loved her?

While
helping unpack her stuff, Mike found a big family portrait of Katie, Marcy and
Marcy's mom. Three generations of Paget women, three sets of beautiful
honey-brown eyes staring back at him. They were sitting down in a photographic studio
he guessed, because the background of the photograph was a creamy biscuit color.
The women all were wearing casual summer dresses in different shades of blue.

The
portrait had stirred him. Marcy's mom was in the middle. Both Marcy and Katie
had their arms wrapped around her, their faces shining with love. One innocent
moment of true joy had been flawlessly captured by the photographer.

Katie
must have been about five years old, and Marcy's mom looked healthy and vibrant.
Mike had gotten out hooks and a hammer, and had immediately put the portrait in
a prominent place in the family room, just next to the kitchen.

Marcy,
reserved woman that she was, had tried to conceal her emotions. Mike had seen
water well in her eyes, and the grateful smile she gave him.

"Thank
you," she had whispered.

Mike
had been emotional, too – unable to articulate all he felt. He had simply
nodded, but he could see that Marcy understood. Mike wanted them to be a family.
Having them move in had been an important step toward that goal.

She's
going to marry me,
he reassured himself.

Was
Marcy on the pill? Mike wanted to discuss having children, yet he felt
uncomfortable broaching the subject. He really wanted them, but did she? He
intended to marry Marcy because he loved her. His longing for a kid of his own
was not part of the equation. But if Marcy wanted to have another child? Well, that
would be a bonus.

He
smiled, momentarily envisioning their future together. Two or three children
would even be better.

Mike
was having a difficult time getting Marcy to say yes to marriage as it was. He
didn’t want to pressure her. And he didn’t want her to imagine that he only
wanted her for children.

To
his mind Katie was his daughter already. Fantastic little girl that she was,
Katie was more than enough. Could there be a better kid out there? He didn't
think so.

But
Mike was still dying to have a child of his own.

Marcy
and Katie live with me now.
It had been a long time
since Mike had known such incredible, buoyant, and joyous happiness.

Mike
felt it running through his veins, in his body, in his soul. It was that satisfying
contentment and crazy thrill of joy that could only be called love. He loved
Marcy and was nuts about Katie. How had he lived without them? They were already
so much a part of his life. His big house was no longer empty.

Now
it was a home.

When
Marcy admitted that she had never taken Katie shopping in the dawn of Black
Friday, Mike decided they all would go. Even though he didn’t much care to
shop, he wanted Katie to see what Black Friday was all about. As family outings
went, it would be unique and fun.

The
energy and enthusiasm for the event was overwhelming. They managed about two
hours of fighting the crowds, laughing at how extreme it all was. Mike ended up
buying Katie a Kindle, because she loved to read. She was such a neat kid.

On
Saturday they bought a Christmas tree, and spent the weekend decorating it. Now
the nine foot Douglas Fir proudly stood in the family room, just off the
kitchen with its multicolored lights winking. He had put on Disney Christmas
carols, to make the mood complete. The house smelled of fir tree, family and
happy memories.

Marcy
went to have a shower. Mike sat in the family room with Katie. She sat cross
legged on the carpet near the tree, petting Ziggy. That damn dog had lost all
interest in him – now he belonged to Katie. Mike wasn't even slightly envious. Kids
and dogs were made for each other.

He
took a pull of beer from the bottle, enjoying the sight and smell of the
Christmas tree. Having Katie and his dog beneath it, only further improved his
mood. This would be a perfect Christmas. Mike inhaled with a deep sigh of
contentment.

"Mike?"
Katie asked, turning to look at him. Poignant and familiar, "Silent
Night" played in the background.

"Humm?"

"Can
I ask you something?"

"Sure.
You can ask me anything."

The
solemn look in Katie's expression tugged at him. Why was she so pensive? What
was on her mind? "C'mere," he said, patting the couch next to him. Katie
jumped to her feet. When she sat down beside him he asked, "Is something
bothering you?"

Katie's
brows knitted in a frown of concern. "I don't talk about dad to mom much,
because even though she tries to hide it, I know it upsets her."

"Okay."

"I
don't think he wants me."

"Ah,"
Mike said. He put his beer down on the side table and waited for Katie to say
more.

"My
father never called when I broke my arm. He sent flowers but there was no card.
I think his secretary sent the flowers and mom got rid of the card for some
reason. He must have said something stupid."

"Oh."
Smart kid,
he thought.

Mike
had been deeply involved in his nieces' and nephews' lives, so he figured that to
some degree he understood children. Kids knew a lot more than they let on.

Parents
imagined that they were protecting their children by concealing things – but
they didn't realize that it went the other way too. It seemed that kids hid
things from their parents for the same reason – to protect their parents and to
avoid hurting them.

"Lots
of kids at school don’t have a father," Katie added. "One of my
friends has a dad, but he's in jail. She still gets letters from him and talks
to him on the phone. I keep thinking that I'm jealous of my friend whose dad is
in jail. Isn't that crazy? Her dad is a criminal. But at least he has a good reason
not to see her, and he misses her. Does that make sense?"

"It
sure does."

Katie
looked so sad and wounded. Mike had to hold himself back from grabbing her up
into his arms to comfort her. It was too soon for that. Katie hadn't known him
long enough for that. But by God, he really wanted to beat the shit out of her
father.

"I
don't know why, but for some reason my dad just doesn’t want me," Katie
said. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and wondering why."

"What
did you decide?" Mike asked in a deliberately even voice.

Katie
gave him a sweet, wan smile. "I can't figure it out."

"You
want to know what I think?" Mike said.

Her
big brown eyes met his, and she nodded.

"Your
dad has you as his daughter – yet he doesn't," he began. "I think
life is sometimes about what you earn or what you're worthy of, not what you
have. It's called karma. Good or bad, everyone eventually gets what they
deserve. Your dad doesn’t seem to want you."

His
expression hardened. Mike took a deep breath and tried not to look as fierce as
he was feeling. "Well, right now I don’t think that man deserves you. And
you sure as heck don’t deserve a man like him, Katie. In my opinion your father
isn't good enough for you."

He
sat up straight and turned toward her fully, hoping he was explaining himself
properly. "You see, Ziggy and I are in this big house all alone. We've
been lonely. We really want you, Katie. You're funny, and smart. You're good
company. I'm a nice person, and I think I deserve to hang around a great kid
like you."

He
took her little hand in his big one, and squeezed. "I'll never be your
dad, Katie. You already have a father, but I want to be a big part of your life,"
he said, exhaling a deep breath. "I've never had a daughter, but if I did
have one, I'd want her to be just like you. I don't think there is a daughter
anywhere in the whole world that is nicer and more perfect than you are."

With
a choking gasp, Katie flew into him, wrapping her small arms around his neck
and crying her eyes out. Her emotional response surprised and shook him. This
little girl, just like her mother, seemed so quiet and self contained.

Mike
just held her and patted and stroked her back. He reached over to the box of
tissues on the side table and gave her a few.

When
she settled down, she let him go, and slid back down onto the couch. She looked
a little shy from her impulsive show of emotion. Mike took her hand back into
his, interlocking his fingers in hers.

Katie
gripped him back tightly. Blond and brown-eyed, she looked up at him with her childish
sweetness, and that strangely adult wisdom combined with innocence. "I
love you, Mike," she said.

He
smiled down at her with a full heart. "I love you, too, sweetheart."