Dial Om for Murder (19 page)

“We don’t even know if she was in the state at the time, let alone Nicole’s neighborhood,” A.J. said.

“ That’s because you refuse to call her and ask.”

Elysia looked up, eyes gleaming with interest.

“Let me guess,” A.J. said. “Another one for my list?”

Elysia’s smile resembled the Cheshire Cat.

“Suspect number four.”

“Barbie Siragusa,” A.J. said.

“
Exaaactly
.” Elysia purred. “Her enmity to Nicole was of long-standing—as we used to say on
221B Baker Street
.”

A.J. groaned and Elysia stretched across and rapped her knuckles with her pen. “Ouch!”

Elysia said, “Barbie’s son was having an affair with Nicole, and to add insult to injury, Nicole treated the boy badly.”

“And J.W. was having an affair with Barbie,” A.J. put in. “Which gives her another motive. She wanted Nicole’s man.”

“
What?
” Jane’s voice cracked. The others stared.

“According to Barbie, she was having an affair with J.W.”

“No,” Jane said. “It’s not true.”

“Suspect number five,” A.J. said quietly. “Jane.”

“Yeowch,” murmured Andy.

“Thanks a lot!” Jane said unsteadily. Tears filled her eyes. She wiped at them with the edge of her hand.

“Anna,” Elysia cautioned.

It did seem a little bit of a stretch. Could anyone look less like a murderer? That annoyingly fresh-faced pixie quality of Jane’s: it was like suspecting Pippi Longstocking of taking a hatchet to a playmate.

“Do you still have the divorce papers?” A.J. asked suddenly.

“What divorce papers?” That was Elysia looking from Jane to A.J.

“You were there when Jane explained why she went to J.W’s house, Mother. The papers she says she brought J.W. to sign the afternoon Nicole was killed. She’s been on the run since it happened, so she should still have them.”

Jane gave her a strange look, and then without speaking, rose and left the room. She was back a few moments later with a fat cream-colored envelope which she handed to A.J.

The flap was tucked in, not sealed. A.J. opened it and drew out the papers, examining the envelope’s contents. Sure enough the documents enclosed included a marital separation agreement.

Jane said shortly, “I went there to ask J.W. to sign the papers. That’s the truth. If I thought about Nicole at all, I thought it would be a—a kind of birthday present for her.”

“But you didn’t announce yourself when you arrived?”

“I know how it sounds, but I couldn’t find anyone. The hall was full of people—caterers and florists—but none of the household staff as far as I could make out. There was some problem with the drain in one of the downstairs bathrooms. And some of the wrong booze had been delivered.

“I just thought I would see if J.W. was in his study.” Her blue eyes met A.J.’s and she made a face. “Okay.
Yes
. I admit I was a little curious. You can’t imagine how different that house was from the place J.W. and I lived.
Rented
. I poked my head in a couple of rooms just to . . . see how the other half lived.”

“And?”

“It was sort of depressing, really. It didn’t look like a home, it looked like a magazine layout. I couldn’t imagine living there.”

“ That’s not what I meant,” A.J. said.

Jane bit her lip. “Oh. Well, I could tell immediately which room was Nicole’s office. Her face was plastered all over the walls.” She shook her head. “ The music was blasting, so I knew she was there, and I stepped inside just to say a quick hello and happy birthday. I wanted to get the papers signed and get out of there.” She closed her eyes.

“But she was already dead,” Elysia stated. She didn’t notice the irritated look A.J. directed her way.

Jane opened her eyes and nodded. “Yes. It must have just happened. She was lying behind the sofa . . . twitching. But I could see it was too late. She wasn’t breathing. Her head was . . . it was awful. There were bits of bloodied ice everywhere. I saw what was left of the koala sculpture smashed on the floor.” She swallowed hard. “And I knew I had to get out of there fast. I could see exactly how it was going to look, and I knew my only chance was to run—and pray that no one recognized me.”

Into the silence that followed her words, Elysia said briskly, “It makes perfect sense to me.”

Nobly, A.J. refrained from comment. As the other two women gazing expectantly at her, she said, “I don’t
dis
believe you, Jane. But you must know how this will sound to the police. It’s weak. Yes, it could have happened exactly like you describe, but I can also see how someone might argue that you deliberately sneaked into the house when everyone was busy, grabbed the first available weapon—”

“Why wouldn’t she bring her own weapon if she was planning to murder Nicole?” Elysia demanded. “You can’t have it both ways. She either planned it or she didn’t.”

“Fair enough. And I happen to agree with you,” A.J. said. “I’m just pointing out how it’s going to look to Jake.”

Elysia’s expression spoke volumes on her concern over Jake’s opinions.

A.J. said, “It’s not like we’re making any progress coming up with an alternate prime suspect. Yes, plenty of people disliked Nicole, but moving from not liking someone to actually killing them is a big jump.”

“I think we’ve all agreed Barbie Siragusa looks very good for it,” Elysia retorted.

“I agree she’s our best suspect so far. She still can’t even bring herself to be polite about Nicole, and she did sort of threaten her. But no one reported seeing her at the house—and the timing is just a little too close.”

“But not impossible,” Andy said.

“No, not impossible. But everything would have to have gone like clockwork, and how does that happen when she couldn’t have planned the murder?”

“Who says she couldn’t have planned it?”

“Well . . .”A.J. considered. “I guess she could have faked the scene in the studio.”

“She is an actress.”

“That’s debatable.” Elysia spoke at the same time Jane said, “Ha!”

A.J. admitted, “She’s got the best motive of anyone. Two best motives. Her teenage son was seduced by Nicole, and she’s pregnant with Nicole’s lover’s baby.”

“Which, now that I think of it, does give J.W. another motive,” Elysia commented.

“
What!
” Jane stared from Elysia to A.J. “Are you saying you think Barbie is pregnant with
J.W.’s
baby?”

“Barbie’s saying so,” A.J. said. “I mean, I don’t know if she’s made a public announcement yet, but she’s apparently told a few people.”

“Has she told J.W.? He’ll be fascinated to hear that one!”

“What do you mean, lovie?” Elysia inquired, narrow-eyed.

Jane laughed, although it was a shaky laugh at best. “I don’t know if that woman is delusional or what, but J.W. is
not
the father of her child. J.W. is sterile.”

Sixteen

In
an unexpected and utterly unprecedented move, Lily called in sick the following morning for the second day in a row.

“On a Friday?” A.J. cried when Suze delivered the message Lily had left on the answering machine. “That’s like publicly announcing she’s taking a day off.”

“Some people do get sick on Fridays. Especially if they were already sick on Thursday.”

“Not Lily. She never gets sick. Her body wouldn’t dare permit a germ access. She’s doing this to me on purpose.” Catching Suze’s expression, A.J. said glumly, “I sound paranoid, don’t I?”

“Yep.” Suze grinned. “But I think you’re right.”

It was probably the worst morning A.J. had had since taking over the studio. Lily carried a full roster of classes five days a week. She was the number one teacher at the studio, and the gap her unplanned absence made in the schedule was not pretty.

Emma Rice was the heroine of the day, coming in at a minute’s notice—and three days earlier than she was supposed to officially begin work—to help cover the front desk. A.J. taught her own Itsy Bitsy Yoga and Yoga for Kids classes, then took the Beginners class. Her muscles were already feeling the strain even before she realized that after lunch she would have to cover Simons’s Seniors and later Suze’s Teens and Tweens to free the two more-experienced instructors to cover Lily’s advanced sessions.

It was more teaching than A.J. had done since she started, and when she finally escaped back to her own office, her muscles were aching—along with her ego. She was reminded in no uncertain terms of the vital role Lily played within the studio. There was no pretending she was ready—or even wanted—to take on Lily’s role as head teacher.

Although no one came right out and said anything, it seemed to her that—with the exception of Suze—the other instructors were looking at her with silent accusation.

“I feel like I’m getting the silent treatment. They can’t be blaming me. Can they?” she asked when Suze brought her the mail.

Suze looked a little uncomfortable. “Um, the opinion seems to be that you should have consulted Lily before you drafted that letter to all the clients about not using their cell phones in the studio. I guess it looks a little high-handed.”

A.J. stopped rubbing her back and straightened in her chair. “Compared to the stuff Lily does?”

Suze shrugged. “ The thing is, Lily has been here forever, so everyone is sort of used to her little ways.”

Her little ways?
That was like referring to a piranha attack as a case of the munchies.

“Plus . . .” If possible, Suze looked even more awkward. “We all always knew—thought, anyway—that Lily was going to be taking over the studio. So it looks sort of bad that you’re trying to maneuver her out of her share.”

It took A.J. a moment to recover from the shock of realizing Lily had made their conflict public. And Lord only knew what version of the truth she was handing out.

“I’m not!” she lowered her voice hastily. She repeated, “I’m
not
. I’m just trying to eliminate having to work with her. She’s threatened to do the same thing.”

“But you actually consulted a lawyer.”

“Well, yes.” A.J.’s bewilderment grew. “ The partnership would have to be dissolved legally.” She remembered Lily’s accusations. “Suze, you know me. You all know me. I’m not trying to cheat her. I’m trying to find a fair and equitable way out for both of us.”

“But she doesn’t want out.”

“She wants
me
out.”

Suze looked sympathetic but noncommittal. It gave A.J. plenty to think about as she worked through the rest of the morning—and not all her thoughts were pleasant.

She was eating a Ding Dong at her desk when Jake poked his head in the door.

“Uh-oh,” he commented. “ The hard stuff, huh?”

It was utterly irrational the way her heart leapt at the sight of him—not that his rugged handsomeness wasn’t the stuff guilty dreams were made of. Long and lean, he lounged in her doorway, that crooked smile creasing his tanned cheek.

Silently A.J. offered him a piece of Ding Dong, absurdly pleased when he took a small bite. Immediately and hastily he wiped at his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Jake lifted a broad shoulder. “I have a couple of free hours. Do you have time for lunch or did you plan on drowning your sorrows in chocolate frosting and cream filling?”

“Wow. To what do I owe this honor?”

There was a hint of color in Jake’s lean face. “It’s not like we never have lunch.”

“ True. But not usually when you’re immersed in a case.” And all the more remarkable because Jake didn’t have many cases like this one. Stillbrook and its environs were usually pretty peaceful.

He spread his hands. It was . . . disarming. So was the way his eyes smiled into hers.

A.J. crumpled the silver cake wrapping, tossing it in the trash. “I would
love
you to take me to lunch,” she said and stood up.

They lunched at Patty’s Pantry near the village green. It was a cute little café decorated in cottage style with flowered chintz cushions and swaths of Swiss dotted curtains like a doll house. There were bowls of silk roses on the tables and the dishes were Blue Willow. The food was simple but good: pot pies, quiches, stews, casseroles—and homemade ice cream and fresh baked pie for dessert.

A.J. tried to eat salad for lunch whenever she could, but it was hard to resist Patty’s chicken pot pie. Even reflecting sheepishly on the linguini of the day before couldn’t stop her from opting for carbs when the waitress arrived to take their orders.

“So when is the ex moving out again?” Jake asked after their meals were served.

“It’s . . . complicated.”

“Yeah?” His eyes were very green as they met hers. “Uncomplicate it for me.”

“Andy’s . . . not well.” She proceeded to explain how unwell Andy was, and Jake listened without expression.

When she had talked herself to a standstill, he asked, “What does this mean for you and me? Are you planning to get back together with him?”