Harmonized by Mary Behre Page A

as much as the hope blooming in his chest.
    Yeah, if only she’d stick around.
    He might just let her.

Chapter Eight
    Karma awoke as the engine cut off. She lifted her head.
    That was drool on her mouth and . . . yes, on the shoulder of Zig’s coat. She swiped at her lips, then looked for something to dab away the wet from his coat.
    Ooh, I’m so classy.
    He glanced at the wet spot and grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Feel better?”
    Surprisingly, she did. She stretched. “I do, thanks. How long was I out?”
    â€œFifteen minutes.” He unbuckled his belt and reached behind his seat for Karma’s suitcase. “Come on, let’s head upstairs.”
    â€œI can get that.”
    He ignored her and kept right on walking. She followed him up into his apartment and down the hall to the spare bedroom. After rolling her suitcase into a corner, he crossed his arms. “Got any sweats in there? I can’t afford to set my heat to tropical on a cop’s salary.”
    Karma frowned. “Not really. All of my clothes are like these. I don’t even own a pair of sneakers. Just heels and sandals.”
    He held up an index finger to signal her to wait, and then disappeared across the hall. Soon, Zig was back with a set of gray sweats. “They might be a bit big on you, but they’ll do.”
    She accepted the clothes, gladly. “Thanks.”
    After Zig left, she changed into the cotton running suit. The material was soft and much warmer than her dress and smelled like Zig. She lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose and sniffed, then jumped when he knocked on her door.
    â€œKarma, before you go to sleep I want to compare notes about the last guy we talked to.”
    She opened the door to find he’d also changed. He wore a dark blue henley shirt and matching sleep pants that brought out the cerulean in his eyes. In bare feet, he padded down the hall.
    â€œWant a beer?” he asked, heading into the kitchen.
    â€œSounds really good.” Karma pinned Wesley’s picture back onto the fridge, relieved his aura was still there.
    â€œYou still see his colors?” Zig opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles, handing her one.
    â€œThanks.” She accepted the drink but didn’t do more than hold it. “Yes, he’s still glowing blue. No change. Maybe whoever has him knows about the CAH?”
    â€œHmm . . .” Zig’s noncommittal response had her turning in time to see him reach into the freezer for an icepack.
    â€œWhat’s that ice for?” she asked, following him into the living room.
    â€œMy shoulder bugs me a bit.” He arranged himself on the sofa, positioning the icepack between his shoulder and the couch, and opened his beer.
    Karma sat down beside him and opened hers too, but didn’t drink. She eyed him, worried. “At the station tonight, I asked if you were hurt but you said no. Did I do that to you?”
    He cocked his head and rested his chin on the mouth of the bottle. “No. It’s an old injury. I overdid it at PT yesterday. It’s not important. I’m fine.”
    â€œAn old injury?” She remembered the way Jules had hugged him so carefully. “Did it happen on the case where you met Jules and earned the Silver Star?”
    Zig exhaled hard, took another swig of beer. “Let’s talk about the Bremer case, ’kay? What did you see in Jowly Neighbor’s aura?”
    â€œJowly Neighbor?” She sat puzzled for a moment then realized. “Oh, the sanitation engineer. For the most part, his aura was a dark olive-green, tinged with mustard-yellow at the edges. Exactly what I’d expect to see from a self-absorbed, insecure kind of guy.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘mostly’?” Zig set his beer on the coffee table and turned to face her. His hand fell casually on her knee. Well, casually for him. For her it sent a zing of