Murder on the Eightfold Path (32 page)

“You may not have doctored her sleeping pills, but you sure did have something to do with her death. She was suffering from depression and you blackmailed her. I’d say that was a contributing factor to her death.” A.J. steadied her voice. “What about Medea? She knew something. She called you after she learned that Peggy had killed herself and you came to her house and shot her.”

“No!” Stewie said, and the car swerved again. Monster sat down in A.J.’s lap.

“Whoa,” Stella cried. “Let’s slow down and take this one thing at a time or we’re going to end up in a ditch and then what’ll happen to Elysia?”

“What
will
happen to Mother?” A.J. demanded.

Stella looked at Stewie who shook his head. She said to A.J., “You have to understand that Stewie doesn’t know anything for sure—”

“I’m afraid of Gloria,” Stewie said. “I think she’s gone off the rails. I tried to talk her out of doing anything rash, but she was in love with young Massri, and she blames your mother for his death.”

“She blames
my
mother?” As though someone else’s mother were a possibility?

Stewie said heavily, “She accused your mother of persecuting her and sending her undercover operative into The Salon. That’s why I got Stella out of there first thing. I wasn’t sure what Gloria might do.”

“Yes, you were sure,” A.J. said fiercely. “You know exactly what she might do because she’s done it twice already. She killed Massri and deliberately framed my mother. And she killed Maddie because Peggy must have told Maddie enough that Maddie suspected or knew you and Gloria were involved.”

“I didn’t know for sure! I still don’t.”

“If you don’t, it’s because you don’t want to see the truth of your own part in all this.”

Stella said, “Stewie’s afraid that Gloria might go to my farm to see what she can find out about me or she might go gunning for Elysia.”

A.J.’s heart pounded in dread. “I need my cell phone, Stella.” To Stewie, she said, “Either way, if Gloria goes to your farm she’ll find my mother.”

“That’s what I told him when I finally got the story out of him. It took a while.” Stella handed A.J. her Palm Pre and A.J. began dialing Jake’s number.

“If something happens to my mother . . .” A.J. couldn’t finish it.

“Stewie feels pretty bad about everything that’s happened,” Stella volunteered.

Jake’s phone was busy. A.J. groaned and tried Elysia’s number again. “Pick up. Pick
up
.”

“You don’t know Gloria,” Stewie said. “You don’t cross her and think there won’t be repercussions.”

 

The
first sign that something might be seriously amiss was as they started down the road to Little Peavy Farm and spotted one of Stella’s milk cows grazing contentedly by the side of the road.

“Someone’s left the barn open,” Stella exclaimed.

It was clear from her expression that if Elysia hadn’t been in danger before, she would be now.

Reaching the farmhouse itself they found Jake’s police SUV parked in the front yard. Aside from the police vehicle, it looked like one of those rustic scenes from a pastoral painting. Chickens, goats, a donkey wandered about the porch and grass. The front door to the farmhouse stood wide open.

“Oh, no,” Stella cried.

A.J. barely waited for the car to stop moving before she was out and running up the steps. She ran straight into Jake coming out the front door.

He caught her by the arms. “
A.J.
What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Mother?”

“I don’t know. I’m looking for her now. She’s not inside.”

They both froze at the sound of gunshots.

A.J. turned to start back down the steps, but Jake grabbed her. “
No.
”

She tried to yank free, and he gave her a hard shake, saying, “Listen to me. I need you to get on the radio in my car and call for backup.”

Without waiting to see if she would comply, he jumped down to the ground and sprinted off around the corner of the house. After a fraught moment, A.J. ran over to Jake’s SUV, passing Stella and Stewie who were standing beside the rental car looking bewildered.

“What’s happening?” Stella asked.

A.J. scrambled into Jake’s SUV, grabbed the radio mike, and pressed the button.

“I have an emergency!”

There was static and the police operator came on the line asking who she was and what was the emergency.

“Officer needs assistance,” A.J. said.

“Ma’am, can you—”

Tersely, A.J. spelled out the situation and then handed the radio over to Stella who was hovering in the car doorway.

“Stay on the line with him.”

“A.J.,” Stella protested. “Stay here!”

A.J. was already racing toward the back of the house, Monster galloping behind, under the impression they were playing some new game.

She reached the back of the house and stopped, peering around the corner. There was no sign of anyone. Not Jake, not Gloria, not her mother.

Monster sat down and licked his chops, waiting for their next move.

“Stay,” A.J. instructed in a whisper as she started to cross from the corner of the house to the nearest little outlying shed. Monster rose, tail wagging, and followed.

The distinctly unmellow smell of pigs reached her as A.J. ran to the back of the barn. She reached it safely, glanced around the corner, and nearly jumped out of her skin. Jake leaned against the wall of the barn, his pistol in both hands, braced to fire.

He lowered the pistol and was softly, fiercely uncomplimentary, finishing with, “I
relied
on you to make that damned call.”

“I
did
make that call!”

He relaxed infinitesimally. “All right then I want y—” He broke off, his expression changing at the sound of voices. “Stay here.”

He turned, edging down the side of the barn. A.J. followed at a discreet distance, listening tensely. She could hear the excited snufflings and snorts of pigs. They must be very near the pens.

Elysia’s cool voice carried clearly although she sounded like she was speaking from inside the barn perhaps. “Maddie was uncomfortable with Peggy’s obsession, and she let the friendship lapse. But when she heard about Peggy’s supposed suicide, she
knew
it was all true. She rang you up and told you she knew you’d murdered Peggy.”

Gloria’s sharp voice sounded closer.
She must be on this side of the pens
, guessed A.J.

“We didn’t have a thing to do with Peggy Graham’s death. That’s the ridiculous part of it. She killed herself. It had nothing to do with us. But that pigheaded fool Maddie insisted that we’d murdered her. She said she was going to the police. I told her she was making a mistake, that the situation wasn’t what she imagined. I asked to meet her at her house at six. I arrived an hour early and went around the back. There was a little gate there. It was perfect. I went into the yard and she was right there, gardening. I shot her.”

“You used a silencer, which is why I didn’t hear you.”

“That’s right. You can buy them right on the Internet. I lost mine in the garden. Now climb out of that pigpen or I’ll shoot you
and
the pig.”

In other circumstances A.J. would have found Jake’s expression priceless.

He moved away from the safety of the barn wall, bringing his pistol up. A.J. darted forward to see. Two things happened. Jake yelled, “Hold it right there.” And an enormous pig suddenly burst out of its pen nearly knocking Gloria over.

Jake leaped for Gloria, who fired her pistol as she staggered. The pig, which was as big as a comfortable chair, panicked, squealing, and careened into Jake, throwing him off balance. Gloria slipped in the mud outside the pen. Elysia darted out of the pigpen, and wrestled her for the pistol she had dropped and was scrabbling to retrieve.

Elysia grabbed Gloria’s arm, yanked it back, and flipped Gloria right over in a move straight out of
221B Baker Street
.

“Freeze!” Elysia cried.

Oddly enough everyone did. Jake slowly lowered his weapon, taking in the picture of Elysia triumphantly holding Gloria’s gun and Gloria on her back in the mud blinking up at all of them.

Even Oscar the pig seemed to pause and reflect, before sticking his pink snout out and snuffling Gloria’s face. She shrieked as the big, spotted pig, gave her a wet, wheezing kiss.

In the far away distance floated the sound of sirens. More immediately came the pound of footsteps as Stella and Stewie raced up to the tableau around the pigpen.

“Bloody Hell,” Elysia said, as Jake prudently stepped forward to remove the pistol from her hand. “I finally caught my own villain!”

Funny
how you could solve a murder on Tuesday and still need to be back at work on Wednesday morning.

When A.J. arrived at work—admittedly late—following Gloria’s arrest the afternoon before for the murders of Dicky Massri and Medea Sutherland, she had to make her way through a gauntlet of concerned and curious employees and students.

“Your mom was great yesterday!” Suze exclaimed and A.J. winced.

The minute Elysia had completed her part of the police investigation into the events at Little Peavy Farm, she had driven into Stillbrook and held an impromptu press conference on the steps of the police station. Reporters had already gathered as the news of Gloria’s arrest had spread. Elysia had taken advantage of that to announce that she had in fact cracked the case—as she had said she would. She then demanded a full apology from everyone from the police to the courts.

“She’s something else,” agreed Emma Rice.

“Isn’t she?” A.J. said weakly.

“So why did Gloria Sunday kill Elysia’s boyfriend?” Suze asked as A.J. tried to edge down the hallway to her office.

“It turns out that Gloria was actually in love with Dicky. When she learned that he was going to marry Elysia, something must have snapped. Plus it sounds to me like she didn’t trust him not to give away their blackmailing scheme.”

“Did you hear about Yoga Meridian?” Simon asked quietly, following A.J. to her office door.

“No. What?”

“Apparently it’s been bought out by Tussle and Rossiter.”

“Who?”

“The two business entrepreneurs who’ve been buying out some of the nation’s oldest, most prestigious yoga studios. The word on the street is they’re planning to create a national chain of yoga studios.”

“Corporate yoga?”

“Maybe. But they’re promoting the idea that their studios will feature highly-trained teachers, high-quality classes, and still preserve that authentic, community feel of a neighborhood studio.”

“And they’re buying up established studios?”

Simon nodded and named two well-known California studios. “And get this. Mara Allen was let go.”

“They
fired
Mara Allen?”

“I don’t know about that. She may have left of her own free choice, but . . . either way she’s gone.”

Her mind reeling, A.J. let herself into her office. A branded national chain could mark the beginning of the end for yoga as they currently knew it. With corporate resources and money behind them, Tussle and Rossiter could quickly drive a lot of small studios out of business. Much of the individual charm and creativity of these individually owned enterprises would be lost as commercialism took over what was at heart intensely spiritual.

A.J. let herself into her office and sank down in the chair behind her desk.

There was a white envelope propped against the phone. Her name was typed on the envelope face. A.J. picked it up and ripped it open.

It was dated the previous afternoon.

What the . . . ?

The phone rang and A.J. picked it up automatically, still staring at the letter in her hand.

“Bonjour!” said Andy cheerfully. His voice sounded so clear he could have been in the next room.

“Hey! How are you?”

“
Très bon
as we say in Gay Paree.” His voice faded and came back on the line. “Nick says hi.”

“Hi to Nick,” A.J. returned politely.

“We just saw on the news that Ellie was cleared of all criminal charges. They’re saying she solved the murder—although something may have been lost in translation.”