A Death at the Yoga Café

by MICHELLE KELLY,

  “Well, let’s hope Ben gets it all sorted out,” Megan said.

  Customers began to trickle back into the café, many of whom had heard about Suzy and her painting and were full of questions. Feeling a headache coming on, Keeley retreated to the kitchen to take care of the cooking and left Darla to man the counter. She was busy making an omelet when she heard stilettos clicking on the floor behind her.

  “Have you heard?” Raquel said. “Suzy’s been released.”

  “She wasn’t actually arrested,” Keeley pointed out. “I think Ben just wanted to ask her a few questions.”

  Raquel gave a snort of derision. “Well, we all know what that means,” she said darkly. “Ben took me in for questioning, and the whole of Belfrey thought I was a murderess. Now it can be Suzy’s turn. At least someone finally found out something. You weren’t much help,” she said dismissively. Keeley bit her lip to keep from retorting, taking a deep breath before saying, “I did what I could, Raquel, but until now there’s been nothing to find out.” She wasn’t about to tell Raquel about Lydia; somehow the fact that the girl was dead seemed too personal and private a matter to confide to someone as unsympathetic to other people’s plights as Raquel. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell her that she thought her own mother might be in the frame.

  “Well, with a bit of luck Suzy will confess. I don’t know why no one realized it was her before, it’s quite obvious she’s crazy.”

  “We don’t even know if she had anything to do with it.” Keeley finished dishing up the omelet and took the plate out to the customer who had ordered it, Raquel following her into the café. Jack was coming in, Bambi close behind. He nodded at Keeley.

  “Looks like the young artist is off the hook. Just seen her going in to your diner,” he added to Raquel.

  “That’s unfair,” she protested. “Ben kept me at the station for hours.”

  “Like I said, she must be off the hook,” Jack said. Raquel glared at him.

  “Meaning I’m not? Thanks to you,” she snapped at Keeley before stalking out of the café. Keeley shook her head; she had had enough for one day.

  After the remaining customers had left, apart from Jack who seemed to have ensconced himself permanently at the counter, Keeley changed the sign on the door to CLOSED and began to clear away. As she did so she watched her mother, wondering what it was she had to tell her, and if she even wanted to hear it. Perhaps not knowing things wasn’t so bad, Keeley thought. Darla seemed aware of her daughter’s appraisal, avoiding Keeley’s eyes as she helped her tidy up. When Keeley went into the kitchen to wash up, Darla followed her and busied herself wiping down and disinfecting the sides.

  Keeley had just put the last plate away when Darla laid a hand on her arm, breaking the loaded silence that had been gathering between them.

  “I think it’s time for that talk, Keeley.”

  Keeley looked at her, surprised to see that her mother was clearly very nervous. So much so in fact that she was fidgeting and playing with her hair, ruining the perfect lines of her cut. Keeley felt her stomach sink, her suspicions against her mother returning.

  “Okay,” she said. She leaned back against the sink, taking a long, slow breath. The agitation was coming off her mother in waves.

  “I’m not sure how to tell you this.” Darla actually wrung her hands together. Unable to keep her calm, Keeley blurted it out.

  “Is this about the affair you had with Gerald Buxby?”

  Darla’s face drained of color.

  PASCHIMOTTANASANA—SEATED FORWARD BEND

  Method

  • Sit on the floor with your buttocks supported on a folded blanket and your legs straight in front of you. Press through your heels. Rock slightly onto your left buttock, and pull your right sitting bone away from the heel with your right hand. Repeat on the other side. Turn the top thighs in slightly and press them down into the floor. Press through your palms or finger tips on the floor beside your hips and lift the top of the sternum toward the ceiling as the top thighs descend.

  • Draw the inner groins deep into the pelvis. Inhale and, keeping the front torso long, lean forward from the hip joints, not the waist. Lengthen the tail bone away from the back of your pelvis. If possible take the sides of the feet with your hands, thumbs on the soles, elbows fully extended; if this isn’t possible, loop a strap around the foot soles, and hold the strap firmly. Be sure your elbows are straight, not bent.

  • When you are ready to go further, don’t forcefully pull yourself into the forward bend, whether your hands are on the feet or holding the strap. Always lengthen the front torso into the pose, keeping your head raised. If you are holding the feet, bend the elbows out to the sides and lift them away from the floor; if holding the strap, lighten your grip and walk the hands forward, keeping the arms long. The lower belly should touch the thighs first, then the upper belly, then the ribs, and the head last.

  • With each inhalation, lift and lengthen the front torso just slightly; with each exhalation release a little more fully into the forward bend. Stay in the pose anywhere from one to three minutes. To come up, first lift the torso away from the thighs and straighten the elbows again if they are bent. Then inhale and lift the torso up by pulling the tail bone down and into the pelvis.

  Benefits

  Benefits of this pose include relief of stress and low mood (however, it is not recommended for those with moderate to severe depression) and stimulation of the internal organs. Stretches and tones the hamstrings, can improve digestion and soothe anxiety, and provide relief from headaches and menstrual cramps.

  Contraindications

  Asthma and diarrhea. Consult your physician if you have ever suffered from a back, shoulder, or spinal injury.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “How did you know?” She made no attempt to deny it.

  “Someone told me, but they didn’t mean to,” Keeley said, wanting to protect the gentle Diana Glover from her mother’s wrath. “And it wasn’t Norma or Maggie,” she added.

  Darla frowned. “Well, I wasn’t aware it was common knowledge,” she said stiffly.

  “I don’t think it is,” Keeley assured her. “But don’t change the subject, Mum.”

  “You’re the one changing the subject,” Darla snapped, sounding more like her usual self. Keeley frowned, confused.

  “Isn’t that what you want to talk to me about?”

  “Why on earth would it be? It was years ago, Keeley.” Darla looked annoyed. Keeley put a hand to her forehead, trying to collect her thoughts.

  “Because you didn’t tell me,” she said quietly. “You told me about the affair, but never about who it was, and you barely seemed to react when you found out about his death.”

  Darla shrugged. “Well, I was shocked, of course, but I can’t say as I had particularly strong feelings about it. Gerald stopped meaning anything to me a long time ago. He never did, really, I was always in love with your father, I was just very young and foolish.”

  That was exactly like her mother, Keeley thought. Gerald’s death didn’t have any impact on her life, so Darla was hardly likely to have any strong emotional reaction to it just because she had cared about him once. In hindsight, Keeley wasn’t sure why she would have expected anything else.

  “I see. I just thought it was odd,” she said. Darla tutted.

  “Honestly, Keeley, why are you harping on about this? Anyone would think you thought it was me that murdered him.”

  Keeley, who had thought exactly that, looked down at her feet, hoping that her mother wouldn’t pick up on her guilt.

  “So what did you want to tell me?” she asked, more to distract her than anything else. When her mother again began to fidget Keeley looked up again, her interest renewed. She heard Jack cough outside in the café and nodded toward the door.

  “Shall I ask him to go, so we can have a bit more privacy? I’m shutting up now anyway.”

  To her surprise Darla shook her head and flushed bright crimson.<
br />
  “No. Jack’s waiting for me.”

  “Why on earth is Jack waiting for you?”

  As her mother flushed even deeper and looked down at her own feet, looking for all the world like a naughty schoolgirl, Keeley felt understanding slowly dawn. This was the reason behind her mother’s odd behavior and disappearances. She had a lover all right, but it certainly wasn’t anyone that Keeley had been expecting.

  “You and Jack? That’s where you’ve been sneaking off to?”

  Darla tutted. “I hardly sneak, dear.”

  Keeley felt a laugh bubbling in her stomach and traveling through her. She tried to disguise it with a cough, but couldn’t stop a wide grin from splitting her face. Her mother, and Jack? She just couldn’t picture her prim and proper mother with the grizzled old man. He must be at least ten years older than her. And yet, on some level, it made a strange kind of sense. It explained the wine too; Jack was notorious for his home-brewed stuff.

  “You and Jack,” she said again with something like wonder. After all, Jack was in his early sixties.

  “Yes, dear, you don’t need to keep repeating yourself.” Although Darla had regained her composure, the color was still high on her cheeks.

  “Well, I’m very happy for you both,” Keeley said, feeling the urge to laugh again and wondering if it wasn’t something like shock. “Let’s go out, shall we? I want to congratulate Jack too.”

  She walked into the café, where Jack was still sitting on the counter, tucking into his third meringue. He stopped and looked up, his eyes taking in Keeley and Darla standing behind her. For a moment he too looked nervous, not an emotion she had ever associated with the old man.

  “You’ve told her then.” His voice was gruff.

  “Yes.” Darla sounded unsure, and Keeley was aware of them both looking at her, waiting for a reaction. Keeley walked around the counter, and before she was even fully aware of what she was about to do, threw her arms around Jack. At their feet Bambi gave an excited bark, wagging his great tail. Jack hugged her back awkwardly, then disentangled himself, looking embarrassed. He swiped at his eyes, and Keeley realized there had been tears in them. Had he really been so worried about her reaction? But then, she thought, he had been very close to her father once.

  “I’m very happy for you both,” Keeley said again, this time really meaning it.

  “Well, lass, I’m glad of it,” Jack said, picking up his pipe. Darla stood behind the counter, watching them with a strange look on her face. A soft look, Keeley thought, almost loving. She was beginning to feel like she had woken up this morning into some strange warped reality, what with Suzy’s crazy painting and now this.

  “We’re going for a quick drink at the Wheatsheaf, if you’d like to join us, Keeley?” Darla said. Keeley thought about it, then shook her head. She could do with some time on her own to process everything.

  “Thank you, but I’m going to get finished tidying up and then go and unwind. It’s been a long day.”

  Her mother kissed her cheek in answer, looking relieved. Keeley watched them go. The hysteria she had felt creeping up on her had subsided, to be replaced with a sense of calm. As odd a couple as they may appear to be on the face of it, somehow she felt instinctively that they were right for each other. That her father would approve, even.

  In fact, now that she knew the truth, she felt guilty that she could ever have suspected her mother. Darla had been, in her own way, more open with Keeley in the last few days than she had perhaps ever been in her life, and here she was accusing her of murder. But along with, and stronger than the guilt, was the relief that she had been wrong.

  As she finished clearing and locking up, she thought about the rest of the day. Whatever she had been expecting from the art festival, it hadn’t been this. Had Ben really thought Suzy had been responsible, just because of a painting? But then, if the details had been that accurate … Keeley shuddered as an image of the painting flashed across her mind. Suzy had captured the moment of death in grisly detail, a lurid grimace on Gerald’s face, a look of frozen terror in his eyes. Somehow she had captured the depth of his anguish in the painting, the true horror of what had happened to him, stabbed to death in his own living room. There was no doubt Suzy was an incredibly talented artist, and definitely a bit strange, but that didn’t make her a murderer.

  The case was running out of suspects, Keeley reflected as she locked up the café and pulled down the blinds. It wasn’t her mother, she still didn’t believe it was Raquel, and Ben had said that Lydia’s mother was a dead end. Maybe it was just some psycho, and the fact that the first two victims had known each other well was just a coincidence. But the idea of some crazed serial killer running around Belfrey, as terrifying as that prospect was, felt inherently wrong. These murders felt personal. She had been so sure that they were connected to Gerald’s past, and specifically to Lydia, but Ben had seemed certain that wasn’t the case, and she was sure he wouldn’t dismiss it without reason. Yet it felt like a strong motive; grief over her daughter’s death could surely crystallize into rage against the father who had never provided for her.

  Keeley rubbed her head as if to clear it of the morbid thoughts and went upstairs to roll out her mat. She could do with a long, restorative practice, she thought, followed by some good hearty food. The goat’s cheese tarts were gone, but there was plenty of summer stew and salads left that would feed her well over the next few days. She stood in Mountain Pose, rooting her feet down to the earth, stretching her body tall, and let out a slow, deep exhale, consciously trying to clear her mind. Then she moved into a few deep standing stretches, feeling the tension in her body and mind release and flow through her as she moved into hip stretches and back bends. Almost on impulse she found herself moving through a series of the more difficult arm balances, then lifting her legs up above her head into a handstand.

  Keeley found herself thinking about her mother again as she stood on her hands, legs up against the wall in an inverted pose. It had been one of those days when her usual series of postures just wasn’t going to cut it. In fact, it seemed quite appropriate to be viewing the world from a different perspective, given the news she had heard today. The notion of her mother with Jack Tibbons had shaken her entire worldview. It seemed opposites really did attract.

  At least she knew she wasn’t a murderer. Now, she decided, she would leave Ben to get on with catching the killer.

  At the thought of Ben she felt her temporary good mood dissipating and brought herself down out of the handstand to rest in Child’s Pose, trying to clear her mind of images of him. She knew getting over him was going to be a long and painful process, but she could get a few minutes respite at least.

  The doorbell rang just as she had settled into a meditation posture and started her deep breathing, and she bit back a curse as she got up, wiped her forehead with the cardigan laying over the back of the sofa, and went downstairs, wondering who it was likely to be this time in the evening. Megan, maybe.

  She knew from the silhouette who it was; knew those strong shoulders and that posture as well as she knew the contours of her own body. She opened the door, her breath catching in her throat.

  “Hello, Ben.”

  “Can I come in? You look busy,” he said, his eyes flickering over her, taking in her vest and tight yoga pants. He had always loved her in yoga pants.

  “I’d just finished my practice.” She held the door open for him, wondering what he wanted. Perhaps he had found the killer; although the look on his face suggested he was anxious rather than triumphant. She hoped nobody else had been hurt, and felt a flutter of panic.

  “Can’t we go upstairs? This is important,” he said when she went to pull out a seat. The flutter of panic increasing, she nodded and opened the door that led to the upstairs apartment. He followed close behind her, so close that she was acutely aware of the nearness of him, of his size and smell. For a moment she missed him so badly it was a physical ache.

  She turned to him as t
hey reached her apartment, crossing her arms over her chest defensively and waiting for him to speak.

  “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Just tell me what’s the matter, Ben,” she snapped, more aggressively than she had meant to. Ben nodded and visibly swallowed. He looked nervous, she realized, not an adjective she would usually associate with him.

  “I’ve hurt you, haven’t I? You’ve got every right to be mad with me. I acted like a jerk.”

  Keeley felt her eyes go wide with surprise. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

  “You did upset me, very badly. But I’m sure you had your reasons,” she said stiffly, hugging her arms even tighter around her torso. If Ben had come to apologize for dumping her in a bid to make himself feel better about it, she wasn’t intending to make that easy for him. To help him soothe his conscience so he could move on easier, she thought bitterly.

  “My reasons were stupid. And maybe a bit selfish,” Ben said with sudden passion in his voice. Keeley bit her lip, shocked, but let him carry on.

  “I was just so scared of you getting hurt, Keeley, of losing you. When I found you at Edna’s with those marks on your face, and then she turned up dead, I just kept thinking it could have been you. And that I couldn’t cope if I lost you. You mean the world to me,” he finished in a rush.

  Keeley’s arms dropped down to her sides, and she stared, not knowing what to say, taken aback by this sudden display of emotion.

  “That doesn’t sound like a stupid reason,” she said carefully. Ben took a step toward her, reaching his hands out to her almost pleadingly.

  “Can you forgive me?” he asked, his voice imploring. “It was stupid, Keeley, because I was trying to control the situation, to control you, and that was wrong of me. I got this notion in my head that if I was with you then I wouldn’t be able to properly protect you, because I’m too close, you see? And selfish because I suppose my pride was hurt by the idea I couldn’t keep you safe. And if I’m honest, by the fact you found things out I hadn’t. That was in there too. I’m so pigheaded sometimes.”