“Couldn’t you just come in for a few hours? Even if you hung out in your office all day?”
A.J.’s spine gave a little twinge just considering the idea.
“I don’t think I’m going to be a lot of use at this point. I’m going to have to take it easy for a while. Standing is hard, sitting is worse, and walking hurts like heck, to be honest. I’m supposed to lie flat until it stops hurting.”
“For how long?”
As long as it took. Despite her disappointment over the morning’s failed workout, A.J. was determined to focus on the fact that her back was definitely better. She was going to have to be patient-something that did not come naturally to her-and she was going to have to have faith. But she did not believe, refused to believe, that all the months of practice and discipline could be so quickly undone by the wrong move. This was a temporary setback, that was all.
She said staunchly, “It won’t be too long.”
“There’s something going on, A.J. Lily’s up to something.”
“Like what?”
“Like suits in the studio.”
“Suits?”
“Suits. Suits,” Suze emphasized. “Executive types in suits being shown around the studio, kind of like investors getting the grand tour.”
“We don’t have investors. Sacred Balance is a privately held corporation.”
“Exactly. And there’s more.”
A.J. rubbed her forehead. No question: so far the day was off to a not-so-great start. “Maybe they’re potential clients, Suze. Maybe they were reporters.”
“Mara Allen from Yoga Meridian called asking for Lily.”
A.J. straightened, wincing. Yoga Meridian, located in the nearby town of Blairstown, was their biggest competitor; they had already lost two important clients to the new studio with its spa and salon facilities. “Called Lily about what?”
“No one knows. But she called twice.”
A.J. felt an odd prickling at the back of her neck. “Even so, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
“Okay, but why would Mara Allen be calling Lily? Think about it. Yoga Meridian is our only real rival. I mean, if they-if Mara-wanted to link up with Sacred Balance for some charity benefit or something, why wouldn’t she contact you?”
“Because I’m out of the office.”
“She called asking for Lily on Monday morning. Now how could she have known you were going to be out Monday morning when you didn’t even know you were going to be out?”
“Who says Mara called Monday morning?”
“Emma.”
A.J. thought this over. Emma Rice was not given to idle gossip. Nor was she someone who got her facts wrong.
Suze said eagerly, “And if it was something like hooking up for a charity benefit, why hasn’t Lily called you to discuss it?”
“Because I’m on sick leave and it isn’t anything urgent. Because, knowing Lily, she wouldn’t think my input was necessary.”
“Why hasn’t she mentioned it to anyone at the studio?”
“Maybe there isn’t anything to tell yet. Maybe it isn’t anything at all. Maybe Mara was calling for information or to check a reference.”
“What reference? The last time anyone left Sacred Balance-” Suze broke off uncomfortably. The last time there had been an opening in Sacred Balance’s staff roster was Diantha’s murder.
A.J. brightened as a delightful thought occurred. “Maybe Mara’s offering Lily a job.”
Suze’s lips parted as she, too, was transfixed with momentary rapture. “Do you think so?” Her face fell almost at once. “But what about the executive types Lily was giving the grand tour to?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t-shouldn’t-speculate. Is everyone talking about this at the studio?”
Suze looked uncomfortable. “Well… you know what it’s like.”
A.J. did. Only too well.
“I’ll tell you what I think,” Suze said. “You’ve only been out for two days. If Lily is up to something, she’s moving pretty fast. There’s some time factor involved.” Suze stared at A.J. “Whatever this is, it’s not good.”
Seven
Wednesday stretched out, long and tedious. A.J. rested her back and caught up on her reading. She browsed articles on weight-loss vitamins, the medicinal value of whole foods, and the obesity epidemic. Epidemic was the word the article used, and as A.J. read, it appeared to be advisedly. According to the article, for the first time in history two-thirds of all Americans were overweight. Those were some pretty scary statistics.
Inevitably, all that reading about dieting made her hungry and A.J. snacked on the last of the lemon madeleines while she flipped through stories on learning to unwind, learning to get one’s life back under control, and learning to balance work and play. All the while, she was conscious of Elysia prowling the house like a caged animal. Mr. Meagher had not phoned so far that day.
“Maybe there isn’t any news,” A.J. pointed out when her mother began another lap of the antique Savonnerie carpet.
“How can there be no news?”
“Well, they’ve already arrested and charged you. So now it’s probably just a matter of the police continuing to collect evidence and build their case while your attorney collects evidence to mount your defense. It takes a lot longer than it does on TV.”
Elysia disapproved of this. Several times already she had called the criminal lawyer Mr. Meagher had found her, but apparently he had no news either. No news was good news in A.J.’s opinion, although the fact that there was no news was not for lack of trying. Elysia received several requests for interviews from both print and visual news media. To A.J.’s fervent gratitude, she turned them all down.
“I do have one idea,” Elysia said, taking the chair catty-corner from the sofa where A.J. reclined.
“What’s that?” A.J. asked warily.
Elysia held up a key. “We could search Dicky’s flat.”
After what seemed like a long time, A.J. closed her mouth. “What are you doing with a key to Massri’s place?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
Perhaps the possession of the key was a point in her mother’s favor. After all, it would be a pretty stupid-or totally eccentric-murderess who decided to kill her victim in her own front yard when she had a key to the victim’s home. In fact it would be a pretty stupid murderess who killed her victim in her own front yard whether she had a key to the victim’s home or not.
“Does Jake know you have a key to Dicky’s home?”
“It’s none of his business.” Elysia selected a cigarette from the silver box, but did not light it. She’d been talking about quitting for the last month or so but being charged with murder was probably not doing much for her resolve.
Was it Jake’s business that her mother had a key to the murdered man’s home? A.J. wasn’t sure. “Did he ask?”
“No.”
A.J. studied her mother’s austere profile. “What on earth did you two talk about?”
“I assume you mean Dicky and I?”
A.J. nodded.
“We talked about all kinds of things. Oh, nothing of earth-shattering importance. We laughed a good deal. He was very good-natured. Very good company. He knew how to listen. Or how to pretend to listen, which is nearly as good.”
Keeping in mind Stella’s observations on loneliness, A.J. said, “But why him?”
“Oh, he chose me, pumpkin. I told you I wasn’t looking for anything like that.”
“Why do you think he chose you?”
At Elysia’s look of affront, A.J. said, “He was blackmailing you, Mother. It obviously wasn’t just about your sparkling personality.”
Elysia half-closed her eyes, considering. “Mmm. Tactless but true. There were several of us on the cruise. Unattached women of a certain age. Dicky was very pleasant, very charming with all of us, but gradually he seemed to narrow his focus. I remember the others taking the mickey out of me about it.”