Dial Om for Murder

by Diana Killian

  He must have felt the startled look she threw him, though, for he said, “Was it supposed to be a secret? The whole town thinks you and your mother are a cross between Cagney and Lacey and The Snoop Sisters.”

  She said carefully, “We’re all done detecting. The police made their arrest.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe Jane did it? Your mother sure as hell doesn’t believe it. She’s going around telling everyone who will listen that Jane is innocent. That they have to find the real killer.”

  A.J. shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. The police have made their arrest and we were told to butt out.”

  He gave a soft laugh. “And you always do what you’re told?”

  “When it makes sense.”

  He stopped walking. A.J. continued, but she turned around to watch him.

  “What?” he asked.

  She shook her head. There were now about two yards between them and it gave her a little confidence. She held her hand at her side, keys laced through her knuckles.

  “Go ahead,” J.W. said. “It’s right there on your face. You’re scared to death of me.”

  She couldn’t read his face in the shadowy light, so she didn’t see how he could read hers, but he was right all the same. She paused. “Okay,” she said. “Since you asked, do you think we should stand aside and let Jane go to prison for something she didn’t do?”

  “She won’t.”

  “Really? They’ve got her with motive, means, and opportunity. Plus she ran, and that always looks bad—even though everyone on TV does it.”

  J.W. said thickly, “She won’t be convicted. I’m hiring the best defense lawyer I can afford. Everything will be okay if you people will just stay out of it!”

  A.J. didn’t move a muscle. It seemed to her that in that profound silence she could hear every invisible rustle in the bushes, every snap of twig, every spin of the stars over head—and coming up the deserted highway someone driving way too fast.

  “We’re staying out of it,” she said. “We’re not the problem.”

  He moved toward her, and A.J. jumped back, turning to run for her car.

  Headlights bright as spotlights caught her and J.W.—a few steps behind—in their beams as a big Land Rover tore into the parking lot.

  As A.J. ran to the safety of her own car, J.W. also started running—in the opposite direction. The Land Rover wasn’t slowing, wasn’t swerving; it was bearing straight down on him. He threw a panicked look over his shoulder and nearly fell.

  A.J. covered her mouth in horror, but J.W. caught himself and stumbled onward, the glare of the Rover’s high beams pinning him in the light as he ran, crossing the parking lot and heading across the clearing toward the trees—the Land Rover roaring in pursuit.

  “Mother!” shrieked A.J. afraid that Elysia would actually mow him down.

  J.W. disappeared into the woods. The Land Rover lurched to a stop at the woodline, exhaust drifting into the night, engine rumbling in what seemed to be frustration.

  A.J. fished around in her purse and found her cell. She began to dial.

  She was braced to leave Jake a message, so his voice took her by surprise.

  “Hey.”

  “J.W. Young just . . .” she gulped and had to try again. “I think J.W. may have tried to kill me.”

  “What? Where the hell are you?”

  “At Sacred Balance. Mother’s got him pinned down in the woods.”

  “Dear. God.”

  She laughed shakily at his tone. The Land Rover was reversing, the red taillights coming slowly toward her.

  “I’m on my way. Grab your mother and get out of there now.”

  “I think we’re okay. I don’t think he’s coming after us. I think Mother scared him.”

  “I have zero doubt she scared the living hell out of him. I don’t care. I don’t want the two of you anywhere near him.”

  The Land Rover pulled neatly up beside A.J.

  “Roger,” A.J. said to Jake. “Over and out.”

  He disconnected.

  Inside the Land Rover, Elysia leaned over and pushed open the passenger side door. She was smiling, her eyes glittering ferally in the pallid glow of the cab light. “Going my way, pumpkin?”

  It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when Jake arrived at Deer Hollow. A.J. and Elysia were still wide awake, high on caffeine and nerves after hours of drinking coffee and talking.

  While they had not actually fled Sacred Balance, they had retreated to the safety of the open road so that they could keep an eye out in case J.W. made an attempt to reach his car. There had been no sign of him, but in any case, the state troopers had arrived within minutes of A.J.’s phone call to Jake.

  Shortly after the studio parking lot had filled with cop cars, J.W. had walked out of the woods, hands behind his head, and surrendered himself. He had been taken into custody for attempted assault while A.J. and Elysia made their statements.

  Of course if anyone should have been arrested for attempted assault—never mind assault with a deadly weapon and a host of other charges—it was Elysia. But none of the officers on hand seemed to want to touch that one with a ten foot pole.

  J.W. had been driven away in the back of a police car and finally A.J. and her mother had been allowed to leave the scene. They had headed straight for Taco Bell.

  Two seven-layer burritos, two Chalupa Supremes, eight crunchy Taco Supremes, and an alarming number of cinnamon twists later, they had managed to regain their composure—beyond a hysterical tendency toward giggles.

  “What made you drive out to the studio?” A.J. had asked finally, sweeping the last of the empty food wrappers off the table—much to Monster’s keen disappointment.

  Elysia shoved at her slightly off-kilter upsweep. “Bradley and I had an early dinner and I passed J.W. as I was leaving Stillbrook. I didn’t make the connection immediately, but then I remembered you’d invited him to the studio one night, and I knew. I knew.”

  There was nothing funny about it, but for some reason that started them tittering again. Jake had called not too long after that to say that J.W. Young had confessed to killing Nicole Manning, and that he figured he would be in interrogation most of the night.

  “I have tomorrow morning off,” A.J. told him. “Shall I leave a light burning in the window?”

  There was a pause. “I may cost you a fortune in candles.”

  “It’s worth it.”

  “I’ll see you in a bit then.”

  Jake had probably not been expecting to see Elysia as well, but he took it calmly, settling at the table and taking the coffee A.J. handed him.

  “Thanks.” He swallowed hot coffee and said, “He says it was an accident.”

  “They always say that.” Elysia spoke dismissively.

  Jake’s green gaze rested on her thoughtfully.

  A.J. said, “I don’t think he could have planned it, but he didn’t accidentally hit her.”

  “True. And he had presence of mind to get out of Dodge and begin concocting the best alibi he could given the situation.”

  “So was it all true? Had he really been in Mexico filming a documentary?”

  “Yep. Absolutely. He flew back just as he said—even his luggage really was lost.”

  “What happened?”

  Jake swallowed more coffee. “Well, Miss Marple, what happened is pretty much what you theorized happened.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Jake laughed tiredly. “Nothing like having confidence in yourself.”

  “Well, but I mean . . .”

  Elysia put in, “I keep telling you, you’ve inherited my knack, pumpkin. You have the sleuth gene.”

  “If we’re lucky it’ll skip the next generation,” Jake said, yawning.

  Elysia’s eyes met A.J.’s. Neither of them said a word. After a beat, A.J. said carefully, “So . . . J.W. came back from Mexico and arrived at the house, and Nicole . . . ?”

  “It’s not totally clear. Apparently she tied into him
for nearly being late to her party because of his loser preoccupation with Third World countries and ugly poor people.” He added dryly, “I guess she liked her causes cute and fluffy and four footed.”

  “He really didn’t know about her affair with Oz Siragusa?”

  “He really didn’t. To tell you the truth, I don’t think he really cared about that, but when she denigrated his work, his professional competence as well as his purpose in life . . . that seems to have been the breaking point. I mean, it sounds to me like he’d barely restrained himself from strangling her any number of times over the past six months.”

  “He probably couldn’t get over the fact that he’d wrecked his relationship with Jane for that,” Elysia remarked.

  “Poor Nicole,” A.J. said. “She wasn’t evil, she was just . . .”

  “She was the kind of person you want to strangle,” Jake agreed calmly. “Or hit over the head. And this time someone did.”

  “What made him confess?” A.J. asked.

  Elysia said loftily, “Fear of divine retribution—and a mother’s wrath.”

  “Uh . . .” Jake controlled himself. “Two things, I think. The guilt of his wife being arrested for his crime was eating at him—Young really does still love Jane Peters. And . . . just the fear of being caught. It’s a helluva strain living under suspicion.” His eyes met A.J.’s. “The two of you poking into things didn’t help settle his nerves any.”

  “Was he the one who placed the threatening phone call?”

  Jake nodded. “He was trying to scare you off. But that’s about as much intimidation as he had the stomach for.”

  A.J. looked guiltily at her mother, but Elysia looked serene. In fact, she looked smug. Smug as the kind of person other people sometimes wanted to strangle.

  Reluctantly, Jake added, “He’s not a bad guy, really. He reacted violently and in anger, but . . . people do.”

  “He tried to kill A.J.,” Elysia said bleakly.

  A.J. shook her head. “I don’t know that for sure. I mean I know for sure he didn’t actually try. I don’t know that he wouldn’t have tried, he was working himself up to something, but I’m not sure he wanted anything more than to insist that I hear him out.”

  Elysia looked unconvinced, but the night was taking its toll on them both. Suddenly A.J. could barely keep her eyes open. She wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with Jake in the big bed beneath the tender gaze of the Kwan Yin statue that had guarded Aunt Diantha’s dreams for so many years.

  The three of them talked a little more and then Elysia insisted on going home to Starlight Farm.

  As the Land Rover disappeared into the night, A.J. switched off the porch light and closed the door, leaning back against it, sighing wearily. She opened her eyes. Jake was smiling down at her.

  “So today’s the big day?”

  Jake sat on the side of the bed fastening his watch as A.J. examined herself in the dressing table mirror. His reflected gaze met hers.

  She said, carefully neutral, “The day the staff votes on the new slogan? Yes.”

  “It’s just a slogan, right?”

  Right. And wrong. It was a slogan and it looked good on coffee mugs and bumper stickers. But it was also their philosophy, it was their public commitment to their students. “Maybe. I think it’ll be symbolic of whether everyone feels Sacred Balance needs to move in a new direction.” She tried to infuse a little brightness into her tone. “But that could be good. Change is good they tell me.”

  Apparently she didn’t fool him. He was watching her, his alert gaze a little sympathetic. “Well, it’s part of the process, right? I mean, part of the natural flow of things. Isn’t that sort of what yoga is about?”

  A.J. resisted the temptation to say, you stick to solving crimes and let me handle the traffic jam on the eightfold path. She nodded. “Yes. I’m all primed to embrace change.” She held up her MAC lipstick. “See, I’m applying the primer right now.”

  Jake rose, joining her at the mirror, turning her to face him. “My favorite color. You.” He kissed her.

  It was four thirty. The doughnuts had been eaten, the tea and coffee drunk, and Lily had made her case for a new and improved Sacred Balance—starting with a slogan that would really capture the fresh direction they would be moving in.

  The last thirty minutes had been spent debating just what such a slogan might be. Lily was still strongly in favor of The Time Is Right although she had expressed a willingness to consider Now Is the Hour.

  Whether her staff would be able to agree on any one slogan remained to be seen, but A.J. was now resigned to the fact that the old motto was history.

  Well, perhaps “resigned” was not the word for her feelings, but she had managed to control herself, and for that she was proud. Regardless of the slogan painted on the wall, she was happy with all they had achieved together this year—and all they would continue to achieve. Hopefully one of those things would include finding a backup receptionist—and maybe an attitude adjustment for Lily—but either way, they were doing good work at Sacred Balance.

  “All in favor of changing the slogan of Sacred Balance, raise your hand,” Lily said.

  She had made her pitch, and A.J. had to admit that much of what Lily had said made sense. And just because they changed the slogan didn’t mean they were rejecting Aunt Di’s work or her legacy. And if she was going to cry because she lost this vote, she might as well pack it in now. Yogis don’t cry! How was that for a slogan?

  No one moved for a moment after Lily’s call for a vote. Then Simon raised his hand.

  Lily smiled and threw A.J. a quick look before saying, “That’s two of us.”

  “Sorry,” Simon said. “I just wanted to say something.”

  Lily looked inquiring. She was smiling patiently; this was her meeting now and she knew it.

  “I don’t talk about my past much.” Simon looked down at the conference room table as though considering the wisdom of what he was about to say. “Fifteen years ago . . . fifteen years ago to this very day . . .” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Just about to this hour . . . I was driving home from work—down a quiet residential street that I had driven a million times before—and a dog and a kid ran out from between a couple of cars. I saw the dog. I didn’t see the kid. I hit him. I killed him.” Simon’s face twisted up, tears filled his eyes, and he struggled for control while the others sat in shocked silence.

  “I . . . can’t tell you what that did to me. How that changed my life. It wasn’t my fault. The police . . . court . . . even the kid’s parents . . . everyone said . . . not my fault.” Simon sucked in a harsh breath. “But . . . I couldn’t forgive myself. Couldn’t get past it. Couldn’t let it go. I lost my friends, wife, my job; I lost just about everything because I could not forgive myself, couldn’t forget even for a minute what I’d done.”

  A.J. wiped hastily at her wet face, glanced up, and to her astonishment saw that Lily’s eyes were suspiciously bright as she watched Simon struggle for the words.

  “Di . . . was the one friend who wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t let me drive her away. Wouldn’t let me go when I thought letting go was all that I wanted. Well, you know Di. When did she take no for an answer?” Simon managed a half-smile at some long-ago memory. “She said, insisted, that it would get better. That one day I would be glad to be alive again. I told her my life was over, and she said . . . that life was over, and a new life had begun. I told her I didn’t want it. And she said . . . one day you will. One day it could happen.”

  Simon fell silent.

  No one spoke.

  No one moved.

  At last Denise expelled a long shaky sigh, and said, “Well, frankly, I hate change anyway.”

  Unsteadily at first, everyone began to laugh.

  A FEW WORDS ABOUT

  SUN SALUTATION

  Sun Salutes (Salutations) are a series of flowing poses or asanas designed to wake up and energize the body through the integration of body, mind, and breath. Ther
e are many, many variations. Traditionally the sun salutation is performed at dawn facing the rising sun, but do what works for you!

  Step One: Let’s start by sitting on your heels (legs tucked under). Sit up straight, place palms together in prayer position, thumbs grazing your sternum (breast bone).

  Step Two: Inhale slowly and steadily (breath control is crucial in yoga if you want to reap full benefits), opening palms and raising arms over head. As you sweep your arms up you should be rising off your heels, arching your back and tilting your chin skywards.

  Step Three: Exhaling, stretch forward from the hips, sliding palms, forearms along the floor until your forehead is at rest on the ground.

  Remember to keep smoothly sliding through one asana into the next.

  Step Four: Slide your palms along the floor until your body is fully stretched out, arms are fully extended before you. Brace your elbows and raise your chest—think of a cobra raising sinuously up to strike.

  Are you remembering to breathe evenly? Are you remembering to breathe at all?

  Step Five: As you exhale, turn your toes under and lift your hips up. Extend your legs while lowering chest and flexing arms. You’re forming a human V. It’s not dignified, but it feels very good on your spine!

  Step Six: Inhale, dropping knees to the floor. Head facing forward. Again, focus on breathing and awareness of your body.

  Step Seven: Exhale and sit back on your knees, returning to start position.

  Repeat the routine five to ten times.

  Recipe

  Salmon Salad

  A.J. is trying to eat more healthily these days. This is one of her favorite recipes (and mine). It’s fast, easy, and especially tasty in the summer when you can barbecue the salmon!

  Ingredients