What Goes Around

July 27, 2023

Kamloops, British Columbia

Karma Lowe had been losing in court all day. Outwardly stoic, she resisted the urge to tap her steel-tipped Jimmy Choo, but she was starting to sweat cold. Of this she knew Crown prosecutor, Ignacious Noble, was well aware.

She could smell either smugness or Old Spice radiating off him and approved of neither. Karma had been confident going in. What did they have on her client to convict with? Circumstantial evidence at best; unless the murder weapon, or his wife's body, floated up the Thompson.

Crown Counsel, Ignacio Noble, pinned Karma with his watery, rapacious stare. She wondered, momentarily, if he had swallowed anyone whole on his lunch break.

Court was now in recess.

Karma sighed audibly. She flipped court documents impatiently into her briefcase and snapped it shut. Rising, she straightened her pencil skirt and almost bumped into opposing counsel.

“Care to discuss your options over a stiff drink?” he grinned, convincingly human.

“Yes," Karma said sweetly, then glared, "but, not with you.”

“Sore loser, eh?”

“Oh, there’s a few rounds yet to go," Karma said, brushing past him. She walked down the courthouse aisle, stilettos clicking on the marble tile. When she reached the swinging, wooden doors, she paused and glanced back to see Crown Counsel watching her with a strained look on his face.

“Aren't you coming, Ig?” she smiled sweetly.

“Not yet," was his reply.

Karma chuckled. She liked the fact that she turned him on. At 32 years old, she had worked hard for her trim figure and did not particularly feel like wasting it on one man for the rest of her life. Why did she bother to get married, then? Well, she'd wanted to. All her friends were getting hitched, and she was damn sure that she deserved the wedding of her dreams too, only she didn't exactly have the man of her dreams to go with it.

Oh well, Karma shrugged dismissively, one out of two ain't bad.

She was determined to stick out her marriage with Johnny for at least one year. That way she wouldn't have to give back the wedding gifts.

She exited the courthouse. Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't see the masked man hiding in the backseat of her Porsche 911 until it was too late. A black, gloved hand shot out and wrapped around her mouth. She could feel cold steel against her throat.

All he said was, "Drive.”

“Okay, easy, "Karma said, "I'll do whatever you say. Don't kill me.”

The blade glinted in the rearview mirror. Karma turned onto the highway and drove in silence until her assailant spoke again.

“Slow down and take that off-road. Next right.”

She did what he told her. They began creeping along a dirt road full of potholes, obscured by the underbrush. Karma cringed at the sound of the Porsche bottoming out.

“I'm a very high-profile attorney. I can give you as much money as you want," Karma said, in a conversational tone, navigating the car around the worst of the ruts.

“That's not what I want," the man in black replied. "You'll find out what I want in just a minute.”

Soon, the bushes parted and gave way to a clearing with a little wooden shanty in the center. Karma stopped the car, threw open the door and tried to run. She shot across the clearing, screaming for someone to help her.

Anyone?

But she was alone.

In the woods.

With a maniac.

Oh, GOOD.

He caught her effortlessly.

“Like to fight, eh?" Warm breath on her ear made her skin prickle. "There'll be plenty of opportunity for that in a moment.”

Karma cursed her fate. Countless case files like this had crossed her desk over the years. How many guilty perps had she defended? How many rapists had she helped set free? And now, this nut-job was going to rape and kill her, leaving her for cougar bait or the forensics team.

Karma tried to stay calm as he shoved her inside the cabin door and bolted the door shut behind them.

“Go to that back room over there and wait," he said gruffly.

She obeyed, her eyes darting for any means of escape. She passed a quaint, living area with a fireplace on one wall and a faded, floral chesterfield for cozying up on cold, winter nights.

Oh God, please help me.

And there, in the doorway, he stood. Naked. Wearing only a black balaclava.

“Take off your blouse," he said.

Karma felt as though she was floating outside of her own body. The hands that rose to her top button weren't her own. Shaking, she managed to undo the second and third buttons. Her breath was coming in short spurts and her eyes were glazed with fear.

As he came closer, she forced herself to look up at his masked face.

He said, "And the skirt."

She reached behind her and unzipped. The skirt slid to the floor, revealing thigh high fishnets on smooth, toned runner’s legs.

Heart pounding, Karma tried to scream but out came a strangled croak. The inky blackness was creeping in. Fear’s reprieve.

Then suddenly the man unmasked himself and stood before her in all his glory. He looked very familiar.

“You!?!"

“Me."

“But, you couldn't have!" Karma sputtered in disbelief, as she looked up at her twenty-five-year-old boyfriend's face.

“Well, you mentioned you needed more adventure in your life, so…”

“You figured you'd kidnap me, hold me hostage and then almost KILL me!?” Karma sputtered.

“Well," he said sheepishly, "I wanted it to be super exciting.”

Karma didn't know whether to kiss him or kill him.

Contrite now, he held out her phone. Snatching it from his outstretched hand, Karma's eyes shot darts of pure venom.

Striding towards her car, still fuming, Karma said, “Do me a favor, okay? Next time just take me ziplining.”

She had to admit the kid was batshit crazy.

And she'd liked it.