Dial Om for Murder (16 page)

Elysia shook her head—apparently in sorrow at A.J.’s lack of sleuthing spirit. “We’re not going to place ourselves in harm’s way, pumpkin. We’re simply going to ask a few questions and glean enough information to place Jane’s guilt in doubt in the minds of the filth.”

“ The minds of the
what
?”

“ The filth. The plods. The coppers.”

“Charming.”

“I’m sure your inspector has been called many worse things than that, petal.”

A.J. opened her mouth but let it go. The other three gazed expectantly at her.

“Please,” Jane said, wiping at her tears. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. You don’t know me at all. But I didn’t do this thing. I’m innocent. And I need your help.”

Andy said reasonably, “You could give it a day or two. See what happens.”

It could happen!
The Sacred Balance slogan popped into A.J.’s mind. She wondered suddenly what her unconventional aunt would have done if presented with this kind of situation.

Slowly, reluctantly, she said, “All right. I guess we can wait a day or two. Maybe the situation will resolve itself.”

“Bravo!” Elysia exclaimed, beaming. “I’m proud of you, pumpkin.”

A.J. smiled weakly.

“It’s kind of like . . . we’re The Three Investigators,” Andy said. “You’re Pete Crenshaw and I’m Bob Andrews and—”

“Oh my God,” A.J. said looking at Elysia. “
Jupiter Jones?
”

“I have no idea who this Jupiter Jones bloke is, pumpkin,” Elysia said. “But it’s a lovely stage name. And, in any case, what could
possibly
go wrong?”

Thirteen

“A . J .
can I speak to you?”

A.J. looked up from her laptop where she had been reading about MS on the National Multiple Sclerosis Society website. Lily stood in the doorway, and although she had framed her command as a request, it was clearly expected that A.J. would drop what she was doing.

“Of course,” she said politely, clicking out of the computer window.

Lily thrust a sheet of paper beneath A.J.’s nose. A.J. noted absently that Lily’s hand was shaking. “I understand this was your idea.”

A.J. reached for the paper, reading over it. It was a copy of the letter she had drafted and distributed the day before to the clients of Sacred Balance officially restricting the use of cell phones within the studio.

“ That’s right.” She raised her eyes to Lily’s glowering countenance.

“Are you trying to put us out of business?”

“I’m going to assume that’s rhetorical.”

“You can’t treat clients like this!”

A.J. said carefully, “I don’t feel that requesting clients leave their cell phones in their cubbies during class is particularly harsh treatment.”

Lily gave her a short, disbelieving laugh. “ The most amazing thing to me is that you apparently made some kind of a living working with the public before Di gave you a chance here.” She made it sound like A.J. had been slinging burgers at Carl’s Jr. before her aunt rescued her from a life of food stamps and public transportation.

“No, the most amazing thing,” A.J. retorted, “is that you’re under the delusion that
you
have a winning way with people.”

“
I
know how to get results,” Lily said. “And I get them without antagonizing the important people.”

“ The difference between you and me, Lily, is I believe
everyone
is important—from Suze to Mrs. Siragusa.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I think I do, yes!”

Lily snatched the Xeroxed letter away from A.J. “It’s only fair to tell you that I’m looking into finding legal representation. The studio is mine by rights, and I don’t intend to let you destroy it with your well-meaning incompetence.”

“Oh. My. God.” A.J. shoved back her chair and rose. Lily took a step back at whatever she read in A.J.’s face. “Is there an echo in here? You’ve been threatening to sue me for control of the studio since the day I arrived. Well, go right ahead, Lily. It’s not going to be as easy as you think—speaking as someone who has tried to find a way to get rid of
you
.”

The color drained from Lily’s face and she stared at A.J. “You’re trying to cut me out of my share of the studio?” She seemed genuinely stricken. So much so that A.J. unexpectedly found herself trying to soften her words.

“I’m not trying to cheat you. We can’t work together, Lily. That’s obvious by now. I’m looking for a way—”

“I can’t believe you would try to rob me of my inheritance!”

“Isn’t that what you’re trying to do to me?” It wasn’t the right answer, of course. A.J. wasn’t trying to rob Lily of anything. She had come to the end of her tether as far as working with the other woman, but she fully intended that their separation be a fair and equitable one.

Lily drew herself very straight. She said with unexpected dignity, “I’m trying to do what’s best for Sacred Balance. I’m not trying to cheat you or rob you. And I haven’t tried to go behind your back.”

“I’m not trying to rob you!” But A.J. was speaking to the door as it slammed shut in Lily’s wake.

 

 

A . J .
was surprised at how much she enjoyed working with the youngest students at Sacred Balance. She liked kids but had never experienced any burning desire for children of her own. Ironically, Andy had been the one who had been most interested in beginning a family.

But as A.J. observed her pint-sized practitioners hissing enthusiastically as they assumed cobra pose, she found herself laughing, the tension of the morning’s unpleasant encounter with Lily evaporating like a popped bubble.

Lily, of course, disapproved of A.J. teaching any courses—even suggesting that the Doga courses were pushing A.J.’s limits—despite the fact that A.J. had completed her accreditation with flying colors. And A.J. had to admit, gazing over the class of little yogis—some of whom were now attempting to slither snakelike across the slick floor and bite each other—that the class might on the surface seem to lack a certain seriousness or structure. But the truth was that yoga had many benefits for children beyond the obvious physical ones of increased strength, flexibility, and coordination. Yoga helped children improve their concentration and focus, even helped reduce their stress.

In fact, until A.J. had begun teaching Yoga for Kids and Itsy Bitsy Yoga, she’d had no idea of how stress-filled some of these tots’ lives were. It probably made sense, given their parents’ stress levels. Now more aware, A.J. had developed a relaxed and fluid teaching style, no longer insisting on perfect alignment—even occasionally letting the kids make up their own poses. She used songs to help teach breathing, and a number of props, including books and toys, to gently instruct her students in yoga’s philosophy. The response from parents had been terrific so far—and the response from the young students even better.

She wouldn’t have dared admit it to Lily, but she sometimes felt the kids were teaching her as much about yoga as she was teaching them. Either way, A.J. was convinced she was bringing something needed, something valuable to Sacred Balance. She felt sure she was doing what her aunt would have wanted, that she was taking Sacred Balance in a direction Diantha would have approved, despite Lily’s equal conviction that she was on the wrong path and endangering everything already achieved. Still, A.J. couldn’t shake the feeling that her inability to work with Lily was a failure. True, the failure wasn’t hers alone, but that didn’t lessen the fact that it
was
failure.

She wondered if there was any possible way to start over with Lily. It seemed unlikely given Lily’s personality. In fact, the only real question seemed to be what form Lily’s inevitable retaliation would take.

Several
fashion magazines and a hardcover book featuring a smug-looking koala sat next to a yellow bowl of violets on the polished table in Nicole Manning’s elegant living room. The scent of lemons mingled with the fragrance of freshly mown grass drifting through the open window.

“It’s lovely of you to see us on such short notice,” Elysia was saying, using her fork to break off a small bite of almond cheesecake. She directed a pointed look A.J.’s way, and A.J.—caught with her mouth full—murmured assent. Her mother had somehow wrangled this impromptu meeting with J.W., and A.J. had reluctantly abandoned the stack of resumes on her desk and in her e-mail to provide “backup.”

“No,” J.W. Young replied, gazing at his own cheesecake without appetite. “ This place is like a mausoleum without Nikki. I’m grateful for some company.”

“J.W., don’t forget you’ve got a conference call with Margaret Sciorra of Lazarus Films at three thirty,” Bryn said, sticking her head around the doorway.

J.W. waved thanks, and Bryn ducked back out again. J.W. picked up his coffee cup.

Again, A.J. was struck by his ordinary attractiveness. He was tall and lean, with a neatly trimmed beard and intelligent eyes. There was nothing particularly Hollywood about J.W. In fact, his jeans and plaid flannel shirt seemed a little out of place in this room with its silk brocade upholstery and marble fireplace. The living room was very much a woman’s room—a woman with an expensive interior decorator—but then the house was very much Nicole’s house.

“Is Bryn staying on then?” Elysia asked, and A.J. studiously avoided looking her way. Subtlety had never been Elysia’s strong point.

But J.W. answered easily enough. “For now. God knows, I’m grateful for her help in winding everything up.”

“She seemed devoted to Nicole,” A.J. said.

“Yeah.” He sipped his coffee, swallowed. “She is. Was. But she has her own life, and I’ve asked her to put it on hold long enough.”

At Elysia and A.J.’s inquiring looks, he said, “Bryn’s supposed to be getting married next month. She’s engaged to a great guy. He’s a Navy SEAL just home from Iraq. Anyway, from what I understand they’re planning this giant wedding. Last week was supposed to be her last, but Bryn’s been kind enough to stay on and help me sort through . . . everything.”

He fell silent, staring out the window at the rolling green meadow.

There was a strange, awkward break. To A.J.’s surprise, her mother gracefully filled it.

“You mustn’t feel guilty,” Elysia said warmly. “I know you’re telling yourself that if you’d been here—”

J.W. drew in a harsh breath. He looked at Elysia and then looked away. “Yeah. You got that right. It’s still so hard to believe.”

A.J. stared as her mother continued in that sincere, frank way, “Jane is such a sweet girl. I worked with her a few years ago in London, you know.”

“Jane didn’t have anything to do with it.” J.W. gave A.J. a hard look.

“No, of course not,” Elysia agreed. “No one who met Jane could possibly think any such thing. A delightful girl.” And she, too, couldn’t resist directing A.J. a look.

A.J. asserted, “I’m not trying to cause trouble for Jane. I wasn’t the only one who saw her leaving here that day.”

However A.J. was the only one who had been able to identify the fleeing woman as Jane Peters, and they all knew it.

J.W. sighed. “I know. It’s just . . .”

Elysia reached across and patted his hand. “We understand. How did Jane and Nicole get along?”

“ They didn’t.” J.W. grimaced. “Nikki was jealous as hell, and Jane . . . well, no way was Jane ever going to forgive me or forget the way I treated her. I don’t think she blamed Nikki, though. It’s just . . . they wouldn’t have had anything in common other than me.”

“Ah,” Elysia said wisely. “And when did you and Jane get divorced?”

J.W.’s gaze fell. “Well, to be honest, we’re not divorced. Not officially. It’s just a technicality, of course.”

“Of course,” A.J. said shortly, wondering how Nicole had felt about that little technicality. She knew how
she’d
feel.

There was another one of those pensive pauses.

J.W. drew a deep breath and said with an attempt at briskness, “So what is it that I can do for you ladies?”