Dial Om for Murder (31 page)

Read Dial Om for Murder Online

Authors: Diana Killian

BOOK: Dial Om for Murder
4.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
A.J. said wearily, “I think you should leave it alone. The last thing we want to do is tip J.W. to the fact that he’s still under suspicion and being watched by the police.”
Elysia gnawed her lip. “I need to speak to Bradley,” she said abruptly, rising.
“Can’t it wait till after lunch?”
“How can I possibly sit here gorging myself on pot pies while poor, dear Jane is sitting in a cell eating prison slop?” She began gathering her purse, magazine, and shopping bags.
“Whatever,” A.J. said shortly, a little surprised at her own irritation. “Give my regards to poor, dear little Janie.”
Elysia straightened, studying her. “I will, pumpkin,” she said coolly. “Have a lovely lunch. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Ta-ta,” A.J. bit out.
But Elysia was already out of earshot.
Twenty-six
On
Friday nights the studio always cleared out early.
A.J. was still working at her laptop as Suze, the last staff member to leave, called good night. A.J. called back, wishing her a good evening, and returned to her reports. Jake would not be getting off work until about nine, so there was no hurry to rush home.
During late nights and early mornings, A.J. was reminded of how far from town, how isolated, the studio really was. The woods seemed to close in when darkness fell—and the deep and peaceful silence grew strangely eerie.
For a time A.J. continued to work, but she began to feel restless—and a little uneasy. Every creak and squeak of the building was setting her nerves jumping. She signed out of her laptop, closed the lid, and considered whether she would take her work home with her. She decided against it.
Running upstairs, she quickly verified that the showers were turned off, lockers closed, no cell phones left behind. She walked briskly down the empty hallways, glancing into each room, making sure she was the only person left. Not that she really had to check. The studio had a hollow, empty feel to it.
Back in her own office, she slipped a sweater on over her sleeveless yellow T-shirt, gathered her things, and went to the front doors. She turned off the lights, set the alarm, unlocked the door, and stepped outside.
The evening was cool and the surrounding pine trees sighed overhead. A.J. locked the glass door and started down the curving walk, stopping dead at the sound of foot-steps coming toward her.
A tall figure materialized out of the darkness, and A.J. went rigid as she recognized J.W. Young.
“Hi,” he said. And then taking in her frozen figure, “Sorry. Didn’t you say it would be okay to stop by any evening?”
“I . . . yes,” she managed. In the excitement over Lydia Thorne and getting back together with Jake, A.J. had totally forgotten about telling J.W. to drop by anytime so that they could discuss making a documentary A.J. had no real intention of commissioning.
She continued standing there. She did not want to go into the studio with him—memories of her aunt’s murder were still too vivid. And, knowing what she did about him, A.J. was afraid her doubts and suspicions would show.
She said, “I’m so sorry. Any other night would be perfect, but tonight something’s come up and I can’t stay.”
“Oh.”
After a moment he moved to the side, and A.J. understood that he expected her to precede him down the stone walk. And she couldn’t do it. She simply could not turn her back on him and start walking into the darkness knowing he could stoop down, pick up one of the large stones lining the walk, and bash her over the head.
Not that he had any reason to do so. He couldn’t know what she knew—suspected.
But suddenly she could see it all so vividly, see him walking up behind Nicole and raising his hand to smash her down with that stupid frozen koala sculpture. She could picture his pleasant face twisted with rage. . . .
But he had no reason to harm
her
, no reason to be in a rage with A.J. And he didn’t
look
angry. He didn’t look anything but puzzled . . . and she was to blame for that, standing here like a nitwit . . . unable to budge while he waited for her.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.” She forced a smile and walked forward, muscles strung tense as though by wire as she passed him. He fell in step beside her.
“Quiet night,” he said.
“Yes.” Yes. Deadly quiet. The surrounding pines seemed to smother all sound.
No, that wasn’t true. She was letting her nerves carry her away. If she listened beyond the pounding of her heartbeat, she could hear the pines whispering and crickets chirping and the persistent call of a hunting owl—and far down the road, the distant drone of a motor.
“How’s the detecting going?”
She turned her head quickly, and J.W. was smiling, not looking at her.
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?”

Other books

On Fallen Wings by McHenry, Jamie
Dragon Heat by Ella J. Phoenix
A Kiss in the Dark by Karen Foley
The Pursuit of Laughter by Diana Mitford (Mosley)
Geek High by Piper Banks
The Cross of Redemption by James Baldwin