Swami Rain led me past the yoga mats to a back room with a closed door. He opened it, stepped aside, and I walked in to find Jung Byson, my client, in the middle of downward dog, his scrawny behind pointed toward nirvana. He was safe. He was alive. He wasn’t on the lam. I took a moment to let all that sink in, then walked up to the mat and snatched it out from under him, sending him toppling over in a surprised heap.

“What? Hey.”

I slung the mat against a wall and pushed the door closed, stranding Swami Rain in the hall. Jung took one look at my face and scrambled to his feet, backing away, fast. He was dressed in yoga pants and a black Coldplay T-shirt, his hair plastered to his head with sweat. Despite that, he looked well rested and well fed, which was more than I could say for myself.

I advanced. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been doing to find you?”

There was an old couch shoved aside. Jung jumped up and over it, using it as a buffer.

“One frantic phone call, and then nothing,” I said. Jung skittered farther away, taking the couch with him. “Stop moving.”

He froze, his eyes wide, scanning the room, as if looking for an escape route. He was out of luck. I stood between him and the door.

“Have you been here ‘downward dogging it’ this whole time?”

“I figured no one would think to look for me here, except you. Though you kind of took a long time with it, didn’t you? Swami’s running out of provisions. I’m literally down to his last bag of kale chips.” He pulled himself up to his full height. “And just as a side note, not cool, your harshing my mellow like this.”

I caught myself before I took another step. “Sit!”

Jung hopped over the couch and sat, his lips pressed tightly together, a petulant child caught playing hooky. Swami Rain rapped lightly on the door.

“Hello? Is everything okay in there?”

I jabbed an angry finger at Jung. “Move and I use my keys to scoop out your liver.”

I opened the door for Swami Rain. He looked around, saw Jung sitting there, then turned to me. “I can see you’re in distress.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jung twitch and I reeled to face him. He stopped cold.

“Maybe I can help?” Swami asked.

He had already, I thought, more than he knew. I’d come close to smothering Jung with a yoga mat.

* * *