Authors: Kate Miller
Karma Patrol
A Division of
Whampa, LLC
P.O. Box 2160
Reston, VA 20195
Tel/Fax: 800-998-2509
http://curiosityquills.com
© 2016
Kate Miller
Cover Art by Rising Horse Creations
http://www.jennifermunswami.com
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ISBN 978-1-62007-501-2 (ebook)
ISBN 978-1-62007-509-8 (paperback)
For my Panera Sunday crew, who supported me.
For my critique group, who challenged me.
For my agent, who believed in me.
I love you all to November 31st and beyond!
ey! Give that back!”
Jade Bailey glanced up from the calendar app on her phone, looking for the source of the shout in the throng of pedestrians outside the Bloomingdale’s flagship store. This wasn’t her territory, but she wasn’t going to stand there and watch its karmic balance be damaged if she could do something to help.
The woman who’d shouted was chasing a man clutching a light pink purse to his chest. It was a vintage Chanel, Jade realized, which explained why the woman was so upset. In addition to whatever credit cards and cash she’d been carrying, the woman was about to lose a three thousand dollar handbag.
Focused on escape, the thief headed toward Park Avenue on a path that would take him within inches of Jade. If she stuck out her foot, she could trip him, giving his furious victim enough time to catch up to him before he disappeared with her purse.
She looked from the thief, whose karmic path was the deep red of a repeat offender, to the woman, whose path was a lighter shade of red. As she watched, the color of the woman’s path continued to lighten, transitioning from red to the neutral white that meant her personal karmic balance had just been reset.
Jade smiled as she watched karmic justice assert itself, doing nothing to impede the thief as he passed her and vanished into the crowd. The woman gave up the chase as she reached the corner where Jade stood.
“Damn it,” she swore, running her hands through her hair in frustration. “I can’t believe this is happening. That guy just stole my purse!”
“I’m so sorry,” Jade told her, reaching over to pat the victim’s arm. The woman might have deserved what she’d gotten, but Jade couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the loss of the purse. “It was a beautiful bag.”
Jade’s phone chimed, warning her she would be late to her meeting if she didn’t hurry. She left the woman staring after her in confusion as she headed toward her boss’s office. Celia didn’t like to be kept waiting.
“How many people do you think they’ll take into Account Supervision this year?”
The question distracted Jade from last month’s
Southern Living
, the only magazine in the waiting area that held any appeal for her. She kept her eyes on the page, pretending to read as she tried to put a name to the voice.
“No idea,” replied whoever he was talking to, both of them shielded from view by the decorative screen to her left. “They only took three last year.”
“Well, Terry just gave me the good news. I’m top five in account balance for the entire city, so I should be on the short list for promotion to supervisor.”
If he’s telling people he’s in the top five, it means he’s fifth
, Jade concluded as she recognized the voice. The speaker was Mark Tillman, one of the other karmic account enforcers for Manhattan. His territory was the easiest patrol in all five boroughs, and he was insufferably arrogant about his “success” in keeping it under control. Whenever she was forced to interact with him, she entertained herself by imagining how he would react if they somehow swapped territories and he found himself patrolling a double handful of high schools and several of the busiest tourist attractions in Manhattan. Teenagers and tourists were hell on a catchment area’s karmic balance.
Happily, she wouldn’t have to be satisfied by her imagination forever. Mark got under her skin because he was the kind of person who took credit for anything positive that fell into his lap and blamed any failure on forces outside his control. In their line of work, he would have to accept personal responsibility sooner or later, and the longer he put it off, the more unpleasant the consequences would be.
“Ms. Bailey?” called the secretary from her desk. “Ms. Rodriguez will see you now.”
“Hey, Jade,” Mark said, stepping out from behind the screen to smirk at her as she set aside the magazine and stood. “Good luck on your review.”
His tone was condescending, as usual, and she gave him a wintery half-smile as she picked up the leather bag that held her camera.
“We make our own luck,” she informed him, and disappeared past the secretary and into Celia’s office without a backward glance.
The first time she’d met Celia Rodriguez, Jade was a brand new account enforcer who’d just uprooted her entire life to move from a small town in South Carolina to the heart of New York City. Celia was everything she could have asked for in a boss: she was smart, efficient, fair, and had a wicked sense of humor. Usually, Jade didn’t mind being called in to Celia’s office because it meant she was there to be praised. Jade was good at what she did, and Celia knew the value of keeping good employees happy.
Annual reviews were another story, though. Every account enforcer dreaded the first week of November, when each of them would be called in individually and given an overview of everything they’d done wrong in the past twelve months. It was supposed to improve their performance, and if Jade were honest with herself, she had to admit the reviews helped her see where she needed to put in a little extra work. Still, she hated having Celia drag out every failure and misstep she’d made over the entire year.
Celia’s expression remained inscrutable as Jade entered the room. Once the door clicked shut behind her, though, Jade was surprised to see her boss begin to smile. No one smiled during annual reviews.
