certain that the next few moments would impact the rest of her life, she straightened her shoulders and approached the rear of the Jeep with a quick prayer that she’d find a one-foot-square cardboard box with a Tibetan postmark wedged behind the front seat. She peered inside her vehicle.
The box wasn’t there.
After a thorough search, she accepted her bowl was gone. Stolen. Her stomach plunged toward her ankles. A year of hard work—and all for nothing. She closed her eyes and leaned against the Jeep’s hood. How could she have been so foolish?
But who would want an old metal bowl?
“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
Reese Beauchamps’s voice brought Taki back to the present moment. Opening her eyes, she blinked back tears, refusing to cry. She had to accept another painful truth. Obviously she had more work to do.
“I’m okay,” she said, although she felt anything but.
“Are you sure? You’re not going to faint, are you?”
“Hardly.” She attempted a reassuring smile. “It’s just that my singing bowl is missing.”
“Your singing...bowl?” he asked. “You mean like a fruit bowl?”
She nodded, thinking only an attorney would compare a spiritual object to a bowl of apples.
“Was it an antique?”
“Yes,” she said. Better to leave it at that.
“I guess we both learned a painful lesson tonight about valuables in cars.” He held out his hand. “I’m Reese Beauchamps.”
“I know who you are,” Taki said as she grasped his warm hand. When they made contact, an electric sensation shot down her arm, and she felt a tug at her belly. That eerie sense of recognition washed over her again.
Had she known Reese Beauchamps in a previous lifetime? Could be. Or maybe she was just intensely attracted to him. The man was unbelievably good-looking.
“I’m the spa’s yoga instructor,” she said, still holding on to him, enjoying the sensation. “I know who most of the members are.”
“But I’ve never been to your class.”
“You should come,” she said, reluctantly releasing his hand. His strong grip was somehow reassuring. “Yoga would help you relax.”
Confused by her powerful reaction to him, she stared at a pulse beating steadily at the base of his neck, then raised her gaze to be captured by a pair of intense brown eyes. No wonder Debbie gushed over Reese.
“Hey, too bad, Taki.”
She glanced toward the voice. Hector, one of the spa’s personal trainers, approached with a purple gym bag slung over his heavily muscled shoulder. The police officer continued working on his forms.
“Reese,” Hector said with a nod at the Jag. “Wow. The new wheels. Bad luck, huh, man?”
“No,” Reese said. “Stupidity is more like it.”
“You lose anything?” Hector asked Taki.
“The bowl,” she said simply.
“Bummer.” Hector patted a Free Tibet sticker on the Jeep’s rusted bumper and shook his head. “Maybe you’re right, girl. Maybe you do have a spiritual blot on your soul. Gotta go, but let me know if I can do anything.”
With a wave, Hector continued to his red Camaro.
Taki cursed herself for telling big-mouth Debbie her theory of why her life was such a wreck. When would she get it that most people didn’t understand her unusual slant on the cosmos?
“Listen...Taki, is it?” Reese Beauchamps’s husky voice grabbed her attention again. He now stared at her as if she’d materialized before him from another dimension. “I’m confident I know who took my briefcase and why,” he said. “I had important notes inside regarding a missing witness.”
She raised her chin. “You lost a witness?”
“Not exactly.” His dark eyes still searching hers, he shook his head. “Anyway, if we find the stolen property, I’ll make sure you get your bowl back.”
“Okay, Miss Taki,” the officer called out, his voice emphasizing her name. “What’s missing? They get your radio?”
Taki and Reese approached the policeman. “The only thing that’s gone is a box with an ancient Tibetan bowl,” she said.
“An old bowl?” The cop frowned. “Give me a description.”
“It’s copper and brass, eight inches in diameter. There was also a wooden wand that came with it.”
The cop nodded as if now he understood. “A magic wand. Okay. So what’s the approximate value?”
“Priceless. I had it blessed by a holy man, so there’s not another one like it in the world.”
The officer raised his gaze and stared at her as if she were an alien invader. “Uh-huh. What’d you pay for it?”
“Nothing. It was a gift. From a Tibetan monk.”
“Come on, Miss Taki,” the cop insisted. “Give me a figure. What’s it worth?”
“My mortal soul,” she murmured. “I made a promise to give the bowl, as a symbol of gratitude more than anything, to the Paradise Way Ashram. If I don’t...” Taki looked down, but not before she saw the policeman roll his eyes heavenward. Reese Beauchamps said nothing, but she sensed his curiosity.
“What’s an...ashram?” the officer asked.
“Like a secluded religious retreat, right?” Reese answered.
She nodded. “Something like that.”
“Well, a hundred bucks ought to cover it,” the officer said. “I’m done here.” He handed Taki her registration and driver’s license. “You can get a copy of the police report for your insurance company in a couple of days.”
“Thank you, Officer,” Reese said. “I’m sure you’ll get to work on this right away.”
“Too bad I don’t have insurance,” Taki said when the officer returned to his black-and-white police cruiser.
“You don’t have insurance?”
“Just the required liability thing. Theft is too expensive.” As the enormity of her loss sank in, she blinked back tears. The bowl was supposed to right so many wrongs.
“If the perpetrator is who I think it is,” Reese said, “I’ll see what I can do about getting you some restitution.”
Thoroughly chilled now, she hugged her elbows, looking for warmth. “Thanks, but I just want my bowl back.”
“And
