“I was so sorry to hear about your aunt,” Nancy was saying. “She was such an amazing woman. She was the kind of woman you read about in books.”
“Thank you.” A.J. was touched. “I have to admit public opinion seems a little divided.”
“Just talk to the parents of some of the kids she helped. I don’t think Chloe Williams would be here today if it wasn’t for Diantha. Your aunt truly made a difference in this community.”
A.J. remembered the startlingly pretty girl who had opened the door to them at the lawyer’s office yesterday. She thought of the bitten nails and dark shadows under the lovely eyes. “Chloe Williams? Does she work for Mr. Meagher?”
“That’s right. Do you remember Dan Williams? Chloe is his daughter.”
A.J. nodded politely, although she couldn’t remember Dan Williams. With the exception of Nancy, she couldn’t remember almost any of the people she had gone to school with that dreadful year. Maybe she had deliberately blocked it out.
Nancy dropped her voice. “Dan committed suicide last year. Business was bad and he was suffering from depression. Anyway, Chloe went into an emotional tailspin. She changed from a pretty, popular, outgoing kid on the honor roll to—well, she developed a really serious OxyContin addiction. In fact, she only got out of rehab four months ago. Diantha took her under her wing, and the kid has made amazing progress. I think Di literally saved Chloe’s life.”
Some tight knot in A.J.’s gut slowly eased. “Thanks for telling me,” she said.
“Di could be difficult, no doubt about it, but if you talk to the parents of some of our troubled teens, she’s eligible for sainthood. Although I’m not sure they have saints in yoga.”
They laughed and shuffled forward a few feet with the rest of the line, where it seemed everyone was making a supreme effort to pretend they were not listening in.
“So how are things with you?” Nancy inquired, her hazel eyes curious. “You’re married, I know, and you’re some kind of hotshot marketing consultant, I hear.”
“Divorced,” A.J. admitted.
Nancy made a face. “Me, too. Any kids?”
“No.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Nancy laughed. “Although I wouldn’t trade Charlayne for all the Prada bags in New York.” Her gaze lit unconsciously on A.J.’s purse. “I’m sorry you missed her. I just dropped her off at the studio.”
“The studio?”
“Sacred Balance. The school coordinates certain PE electives with the studio.”
A.J. stared at her. “The studio is open?”
“Well, yes.” Nancy looked uneasy in the face of A.J.’s anger. “Shouldn’t it be?”
“Aunt Di isn’t even buried!”
“Oh. Well, to tell you the truth, Di would probably—”
But A.J. was already out the door and on her way to her car.
The new Sacred Balance Studio was a far cry from the original building, an old warehouse on Seventh Street where Diantha had first set up classes nearly twenty years earlier. Not only was this location on the edge of town scenic and lovely, but the building itself was also amazing. The architecture was clean and modern, with lots of reflective windows that caught the glinting gold of leafy branches shaking in the wind, the lazy glide of fleecy clouds, and the azure skies overhead.
The parking lot was half-full with several cars and two school buses. Women wearing yoga clothes and carrying gym bags walked to and from the entrance.
A.J. parked and marched swiftly up the walk, past the beds of mostly browned flowers and evergreen shrubs. A squirrel, cheeks stuffed with nuts, scampered along the top of the short stone wall. A brass placard proclaimed Sacred Balance.
It must be really beautiful in the spring, A.J. thought. Too bad she wouldn’t be here then.
She pushed through the glass doors. The lobby was a large airy room with giant black-and-white vintage posters from the 1960s, potted plants so perfect she thought they must be fake, and a soothing color scheme of linen, cream, and bisque.
A short girl with spiky yellow hair and huge blue eyes stood behind the front desk.
“Oh,” she said, spying A.J. “Uh, hello. You’re Ms. Alexander, right?”
“That’s right,” A.J. said crisply. “Where’s Lily Martin?”
“Uh…” The girl looked sideways at a tall, handsome, silver-haired man with a clipboard—clearly another instructor.
The man picked up his cue. “Simon Crider,” he said, offering his hand. “I teach the Beginner and Senior classes. Perhaps your aunt spoke of me?”
“Yes,” A.J. lied—force of professional habit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
They shook hands. His grip was cool and perfunctory.
“I can’t tell you how devastated we all are.” Crider nodded toward the girl behind the desk. “This is Suze MacDougal. She answers the phones, schedules appointments, and generally keeps us all on track.”
More hand shaking. “You’re the girl who found my aunt’s body,” A.J. said.
Suze blanched. “Yes. I’m soooo sorry. Di was soooo amazing. She was like…like…”
“A force of nature,” Simon supplied. And then before A.J. could ask Suze anything else, he said, “You wanted Lily? She’s upstairs with Yoga for Young Adults. We might be able to catch her before class starts.”
“How long have you been an instructor here?” A.J. asked as they walked. Despite the anger that had fueled her drive over there, A.J. found—almost against her will—the atmosphere of the studio soothing. Initially she had wanted nothing more than to tear into Lily, but now she found herself genuinely interested in Simon’s response.
“Seven years. I moved to Stillbrook a few months after my wife died.”
He was a handsome man, just a few years younger than Diantha, and they obviously had some key things in common. For the first time A.J. wondered if her aunt could have been involved with someone after Gus died.
She followed Simon past a gift shop. He gestured toward a corridor off the main hall. “The instructor offices are down here.”
“How many instructors are there?”
“There’re just the three of us now. Lily, myself, and Denise Farber. Denise teaches Pilates mostly, but she’s been helping out with the yoga sessions. Di was talking about hiring another instructor or maybe two. We’re growing fast.” He glanced sideways at A.J., and she understood his doubt: they must all be wondering about the fate of Sacred Balance. That was one reason why A.J. had wanted the studio kept closed until she’d had the opportunity to meet with the staff herself; she didn’t want rumors or speculation.
Taking his role as designated tour guide seriously, Simon said, “On the first level we’ve got the front lobby, gift shop, instructor’s offices, and…one studio. We mostly use it as a stretching room.”
His inflection was odd.
A.J. asked, “Was that the room where—?”
“Yes.”
They continued upstairs. A.J. could hear the sounds of voices from down the hallway. Agitated voices.
“On this floor we’ve got the two main studios. Upstairs is the massage room, the showers, library….”
“Showers upstairs?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Upstairs?”
“Di liked the idea of big windows and lots of light—”
“In a shower?”
“Di had a vision—”
“And so does anyone walking in the woods.” A.J. followed the sounds of raised voices. “What’s down here?”
“Uh, Lily’s working with the kids.”
Working them up into a frenzy, apparently. Then A.J. told herself to be fair. She hadn’t seen Lily at her best. There had to be some reason Diantha had promised her the studio.
And some reason she changed her mind, a tiny voice chimed in.
As they approached the open double doors, A.J. could hear Lily’s slightly harsh voice. “I don’t know, Chloe. Maybe the station manager thought it would be in bad taste. Maybe
Di’s niece asked them to pull the Organic Living spots.”
“Why would she do that?”
A.J. looked inside the room. The dark-haired girl from Mr. Meagher’s office was speaking. Jeez, the kid was thin. She looked like Kate Moss after a hunger strike. The crying jag had apparently turned into full-time employment: her face was blotchy, eyes swollen and red. The other kids stared at her with less sympathy than curiosity.
“Who knows?” Lily responded to that high, wavering voice. “What I do know is we have to keep our focus. That’s what Di would want. Let’s start with the basic stretches.”
“Do the police know who killed Di?” That was one of the few boys in the class.
Lily put her hands on her hips, her impatience clear. “I don’t know.”
“How do we know he won’t come back?” This from a tall redhead in black yoga togs.
“Who?” Lily asked.
“The killer,” a pouty-looking blonde girl said, her tone as impatient as Lily’s own.
“I don’t—” Lily bit back her immediate response. “There is absolutely no danger to anyone. This terrible thing had nothing to do with the studio.” She snapped her fingers like a hypnotist trying to break a trance. “Okay, people, let’s focus here.” She caught sight of A.J. and Simon Crider. Her pointed face grew even tighter. Probably as tight as A.J.’s felt.
A.J. beckoned to her. Lily stared at her and then said to the boy who had spoken up, “Stu, close the doors please.”
A.J. opened her mouth and then shut it. She and Simon stepped back as the boy sprinted over and pulled the heavy doors shut in front of them.
“Excuse,” he said with an apologetic glance.
“Okaaaay.” A.J. said as the doors clanged with finality.
“Well!” Simon said hurriedly. “It looks like they were running a little behind schedule. The class lasts for forty-five minutes. You can speak to Lily then, if it’s convenient.”
“Oh, I intend to,” A.J. said.
Her tone must have registered, because he said uncertainly, “Sure. Of course. In the meantime, if you’d like to wait downstairs in the lobby?”
Apparently Lily hadn’t communicated to the staff that A.J. now owned the studio, nor was this the way A.J. wanted to introduce herself.
“Would it be all right if I waited in my aunt’s office?”
Simon glanced instinctively at the closed doors of the yoga studio. After some hesitation he shrugged. “I don’t see why not. She was your aunt after all.”
They went back downstairs, and Simon unlocked Diantha’s office then reached in and turned on the light. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Alexander. Maybe we’ll see you again before you leave?”
“Maybe so,” A.J. returned, shaking his hand farewell.
Alone again, she examined the office. Unlike Deer Hollow, Diantha’s office was organized, modern, and minimalist. There was a beautiful but functional pale wood desk and two coordinated chairs. Matching bookcases lined one wall. This space better reflected the woman, A.J. thought, and yet she supposed it was significant her aunt had never changed the farmhouse. Perhaps she simply couldn’t be bothered.
She studied bookshelves lined with videos, DVDs, and books on yoga and spiritual matters. There was a miniature fountain in the corner, with water pouring over shiny stones in soothing endless repetition. Chair, desk, everything was set up with attention to functionality and ergonomics.
A.J. sat down at the desk and studied a picture of herself with her aunt on her wedding day. She wondered what Diantha had thought of the messy end of A.J.’s marriage; she had been too ashamed to tell her aunt about it, but knowing Elysia, her failure would have been communicated loud and clear. Somehow she had a feeling Aunt Di would not have been totally surprised.
“Boy, I’d watch where you stick your feet. There was a timber rattler coiled up there a few weeks ago.”
A.J. jerked her feet back. Suze MacDougal stood in the doorway. She was smiling, so maybe she was kidding.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. We’re right on the edge of the woods, so we’ve got to be careful about keeping the perimeter doors closed.”
“There was a live rattlesnake under this desk?”
Suze nodded again.
“What happened to it?”
“Di scooped it up in a trash bin, carried it out to the woods, and released it. Can I get you anything?”
A.J. quit rubbing her ankle, which had suddenly developed creepy-crawly syndrome, and pointed to the teapot on the hot plate. “Water?”
“Sure! Be right back.” Suze took the pot and was back in a couple of minutes. She handed A.J. the full teapot and sat down in the extra chair, perched on the edge ready to return to her post if duty called.
“Gosh, I was sooo sorry about your aunt. She was the most wonderful person. She was like…like…” Suze apparently still hadn’t worked out exactly what Diantha was like.
A.J. put the pot on the hot plate. “Thank you.” She studied the younger woman. She could see Suze was bursting to talk. “It must have been awful. Finding her, I mean.”
“I didn’t know she was dead at first,” Suze said. “She was lying there on her mat—”
“In the stretching room down the hall?”
Suze nodded. “And I didn’t really look at her too closely, you know? I didn’t want to be rude. But after a while I kind of noticed that she wasn’t moving. I got up and I could see from her face that she…Her eyes were open and kind of…staring.”
A.J. closed her own eyes, and Suze said hurriedly, “Gosh, sorry. There was this thing tied around her neck. It looked like a yoga tie.”
“A yoga tie?”
“You know, a prop for the workout. Like a block or a mat or…a tie.”
“Did you recognize the yoga tie?”
“It was green. That’s all I noticed.” The enormous blue eyes were curious. “The police asked that, too.”
“You didn’t see anyone that morning? You didn’t hear anything?”
“No. The only car in the lot was Diantha’s. And it’s kind of a walk from town.”
“Had Diantha argued with anyone recently?”
“Well, I mean, she was Diantha.”
“Really argued. Bitterly.”
Suze said uncomfortably, “I don’t know.”
“It could be important,” A.J. pressed.
“Things were kind of…weird that week. Everyone was sort of testy. Di was snapping at the kids, which really wasn’t like her. And she and Lily had a couple of run-ins.”
“About what?”
Suze lifted both shoulders. It was an exaggerated shrug like a cartoon character.
“And she and Michael had a big blowup.”
“Michael?”
“Michael Batz. He’s a student here. Well, he’s really a runner, training for the Olympics. He was sort of Di’s…protégé, I guess. She was helping him with diet and special workouts and stuff.”
A.J. considered this silently.
Suze jumped up. “Shit, er, shoot! The kids are out!”
She sounded like a zookeeper noticing the cages had been left unlocked. A.J. followed her into the main lobby, which was now full of teens and college-age students pulling shoes from cubbies, joking with each other. Lily was coming down the stairs talking with the still distraught-looking Chloe. Had anyone thought about getting this kid grief counseling, or did they imagine a few limbering exercises would set her straight?
“I want to talk to you,” A.J. said, moving through the crowd toward Lily.
“I don’t have time for you right now,” Lily said icily. “Call for an appointment.” She patted the dark haired girl’s shoulder. “Go back to school, Chloe. We’ll talk later.”
All A.J.’s good intentions of keeping it calm and professional evaporated in the face of Lily’s insolence. “Who the hell do you think you are, lady? And what do you mean by opening this studio so soon after Diantha’s death?”
She had to speak up i
n order to be heard, so her voice came out sounding much harsher than she had intended. The kids fell silent; there were a couple of nervous snickers. Simon Crider appeared in the hallway outside his office, clipboard still in hand. Maybe he would bop her over the head with it if she went too far.
“I think you’d better go,” Lily said, suddenly all quiet poise and dignity.
“If anyone goes, it will be you,” A.J. said. “Or have you forgotten who owns Sacred Balance now?”
There was a collective gasp as in a movie scene. Lily’s face flushed red and then went bone white.
“I haven’t forgotten anything.” She was trembling as she had in the lawyer’s office. And now A.J. recognized that emotion for what it was: not fear, nor anxiety, and certainly not nervousness. It was rage, pure and simple. “I haven’t forgotten that I’m the one who worked side by side with Diantha to make this studio a success. I trained for years, and everything I’ve got, I earned. What have you earned? You didn’t even come to see her.”
No one spoke or moved or seemed to breathe.
Lily said fiercely, “Diantha promised the studio to me. Ask anyone here. Go on, ask them.” She gestured angrily to the mesmerized crowd. “They all know Diantha intended the studio to be mine one day. Their loyalty is to me, because without me there is no Sacred Balance Studio.”
There was only one answer to that. It wasn’t kind, but A.J. said it anyway. “And yet, Diantha left the studio to me. She must have had a damn good reason.”
The girl, Chloe, who had stood frozen through this exchange, suddenly gave a sob and pushed through the ring of bystanders. No one but A.J. seemed to notice as she shoved through the glass doors and went running down the walkway to the parking lot.
Lily gave A.J. a withering look. “You? What do you know about running a business? What do you know about running a yoga studio? What do you know about yoga for that matter?”
“I guess I’ll learn.”
“Don’t bother. I meant every word I said yesterday. I’m going to sue you for ownership of this studio.” Lily turned and stalked toward her office.
Corpse Pose Page 10
