“Of course not.”
“Stella admitted it?”
“Not on your life.”
“Then…”
“My hunches are never wrong.” That seemed to be the Master Detective’s final word on the subject. Elysia went back to cheating at solitaire. But as A.J. turned to her own room, Elysia said levelly, “I forgave your father because I knew that I-or more precisely, my drinking-was to blame. I never had any doubt that he loved me, but I was not… easy to live with.”
That was putting it mildly. Still, it was a shock to think of her father… in fact it seemed wiser to set that aside for later examination. A.J. had asked. Now she knew. It certainly explained that while Elysia could forgive A.J.’s father, she still felt strong enmity for Stella. Elysia had never been of the forgive and forget philosophy.
“Good night, Mother.”
“Nightie-night, lovie.”
Returning to her bedroom, A.J. lay down on the large canopied bed and cautiously attempted her evening asanas. She did some very careful stretching, then, tucking her knees into her chest in Happy Baby pose, she inhaled and spread her knees, gently pulling her flexed legs toward her underarms. She could feel the tug on her lower back and across her shoulders but there was no pain, just slight discomfort.
Shins perpendicular to the mattress, A.J. contracted her feet, pulling gently and creating resistance as she drew her knees toward the sheets. So far, so good.
Pressing her buttocks into the mattress, A.J. lengthened her spine. She relaxed her neck and the base of her skull. Holding the pose, she breathed deeply and evenly for one full minute.
When A.J. finally relaxed in the sheets, she felt triumphant. She’d done it. She had finally managed to successfully complete a full series of asanas for the first time since injuring her back. Yes, these were by far the easiest of the asanas, but she was healing. All her previous work had not been in vain. It was simply a matter of patience and care. Body and mind at peace, she closed her eyes and let herself drift to sleep.
“ Wake up!” a voice hissed against her ear. A.J.’s eyes jerked open. She was confusedly aware that she was in an unfamiliar bedroom, that it was very late, and that her mother was whispering to her.
“Wha-?”
“Shhhh! There’s someone in the garden!”
A.J. sat up fast, biting back the exclamation of pain at her unwary movement. Elysia was already over at the window, peering through a crack in the heavy draperies.
A.J. joined her, her own eyes searching the wooded darkness below. “Is he still there?”
“I think so.” Elysia shifted so that A.J. could peer out, too.
“Where?”
“By that far wall.”
A.J. stared but it was impossible to discern one distinct shadow among so many. “Are you sure?”
Elysia nodded. Her own gaze seemed glued to the yard below.
Long seconds passed. A.J. became aware of how cold the wooden floor was beneath her bare feet, how much her back hurt, how tired she was. “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming? I don’t see anyone out there.”
Her mother reminded her of a bristling terrier, tense and pointy profile silhouetted by starlight. She didn’t say anything.
“Are you sure you weren’t-?”
Elysia made an exasperated noise. “I’m going down to check.”
A.J. grabbed her wrist. “What do you mean, you’re going down to check? You’re not going out there! If you really think someone is lurking in the garden, we’ll call the police.”
Elysia tried to free herself. “That’s the last thing we want to do. We need to follow this person, whoever he-or she-is.”
“You’re not on an episode of 221B Baker Street now. If someone really is down there, they could be dangerous. This could have something to do with Dicky’s death.”
“If someone is down there?” Elysia said dangerously.
“I haven’t seen anyone so far.”
“He probably sneaked off while we stood here debating it!”
“If you’re sure someone is-or was-down there, I’ll call the police.” A.J. turned away and this time Elysia grabbed her wrist.
“You can’t call the police without talking to Maddie.”
“What? Why not?”
“It’s… bad form. Bad etiquette.”
“Says who?”
“It simply is. It’s up to one’s host or hostess-”
“Mother, this is ridiculous. If there’s a prowler, we need to call the police. I can’t believe we’re even discussing this. You can go wake Maddie up while I phone.”
“No, no,” Elysia insisted. “We’ll need to ask her first.”
“I thought you were worried about this possible prowler getting away?”
Elysia’s shoulders relaxed as she glanced back at the window. “I think it’s moot at this point. I think he’s gone.”
“You’re not making any sense.” A.J. stared at her mother’s shadowed face. “You don’t want the police to know about Maddie.”
“She’s the only lead I have,” Elysia said fiercely. “If the plods come barging in here and start interrogating her, she’ll clam up. I know her. She doesn’t like or trust coppers. And if that happens we’ll lose the only connection we have to Dicky’s blackmailing history.”
A.J. couldn’t believe they were truly having this debate. “We can’t conceal a witness.”
“She’s not a witness.”
“A suspect. Whatever she is, we can’t conceal her.”
“But we don’t have to hand her over to the coppers.”
A.J. looked worriedly from the window to her mother’s rigid form. “We’re not detectives. We don’t know what we’re doing. We might make things worse for you.”
“This prowler probably had nothing to do with Dicky. He’s probably just an ordinary, garden variety burglar.”
“Well, he’s certainly been in the garden long enough.” A.J. grabbed her bathrobe from the foot of the bed. “Okay, let’s wake Maddie and she can decide if she wants to call the police or not.”
They hurried out into the hall, feeling their way in the dark. Something warm and alive scurried out from under A.J.’s foot. She stifled a yell.
She gasped, “That ferret!”
A small narrow form glimmered palely along the floorboard and then darted down the staircase ahead of them.
They reached the top of the stairs, groping cautiously for the railing. A.J. asked, “Where is Maddie’s room in relation to ours?”
“I’m not sure.” Elysia brushed past her, moving swiftly down the staircase. “You have a look for it while I check out the garden.”
“What? We’ve already been through this!” But A.J. was talking to the empty darkness. She swore and made her halting way down the stairs in pursuit of Elysia, who had fled like a ghost through the uncertain light.
There was no sign of her on the ground floor. A.J. stumbled through the squares of moonlight and shadow until she found the dining room. She snatched the poker from the fireplace and continued through the empty rooms and out onto the sun porch. She closed the door softly behind her to keep the ferret from getting out.
A few yards ahead, she could see the spectral form of Elysia moving along the pet graveyard. Granted, most specters could not afford vintage Olga peignoir sets. The garden was damp, the leaves glistening in the faint starlight. The night smelled of wet earth and moldering leaves; it smelled creepy, like fresh graves.
A.J. caught up to Elysia. “For the record? That was not cool.”
“It’s all right,” Elysia told her. “There’s no one here.” She was peering at the wet grass. “Do you see anything? Footprints? I can’t tell in this light.”
A.J. glanced at the grass. The lawn was of the thick and durable variety. They’d have to get down on their hands and knees with a magnifying glass to examine it for crushed blades, and that was not about to happen.
“Maybe it was the ghost of Angus the cat,” she said sourly.
“Now don’t be shrewish, pumpkin,” Elysia said vaguely, moving through the overhanging tree limbs. The long, pale skirt of her nightgown trailed along the lawn as she moved away. “You were simply outmaneuvered.”