Murder on the Eightfold Path (25 page)

Elysia said mildly, “Well, he would, wouldn’t he? That’s exactly the sort of thing he’d try if cornered. He was a lover not a fighter.”

“He was a user. A liar, a cheat, a—” Dora was on another roll.

A.J. interrupted, “Did you ever hear anything about Massri being involved in the theft or smuggling of Egyptian antiquities?”

Dora didn’t answer for a moment, her gaze on her empty glass. “There were rumors. Nothing overt. It was more a suggestion that he was lazy and not doing his job properly. He
was
lazy.”

“Apparently it was more than a rumor. He was fired from his position at the SCA.”

Dora’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

A.J. lied. “I contacted the SCA directly.” She thought it would be better if Dora didn’t know that their own relationship with the police was anything beyond adversarial.

“Well, I’m not surprised.” The teakettle was whistling in the kitchen. Dora rose to get it.

“She has the wherewithal to commit murder.” Elysia kept her voice low.

“The wherewithal?”

“The you-name-it. The gumption, the means, the motive.”

“But she’s got an alibi. Plus . . .”

“Plus what?”

A.J. opened her mouth, but Dora poked her head out of the kitchen. “Milk? Honey? Lemon?”

“Honey and lemon,” A.J. said.

“Milk,” Elysia said.

Dora disappeared, but her voice floated back to them. “Were you really going to marry him?”

Elysia’s smile was odd. “No,” she returned. “My experience was somewhat different from yours, Dora, but no.”

Dora reappeared with two mugs, which she set on the piles of paper on the long table.

“When was the last time you saw Massri?” A.J. asked.

“Months ago.” She seemed definite on that point. “After I turned him over to the DHS, I decided it was out of my hands.”

 

“There’s
a colorful character,” Elysia commented as they left Dora’s and walked back to where they had parked the SUV.

A.J. snorted. “Boy, if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black—as the Bard would say.”

Elysia gave her a cool look. “I do think she was telling the truth, though. At least as far as she understands it.”

A.J. agreed. “It seems unlikely that if she had killed Dicky she’d keep talking about how he got what he deserved and how angry she was with him.”

“Mmm.” Elysia said thoughtfully, “Perhaps. She doesn’t strike me as a particularly
wise
woman.”

“True.” A.J. remembered her impression that Dora might have impulse control issues. “She did seem a little headstrong.”

“If someone is running some kind of blackmail scheme I can’t imagine why they’d kill Peggy Graham and leave Dora running loose. I’d kill Dora, given a choice.”

A.J. said, hoping to discourage that line of commentary, “First of all, we don’t know for sure that Peggy
was
killed. It’s still very possible she committed suicide. Secondly, if Dora wasn’t being blackmailed, then she didn’t have much in the way of ammunition. Thirdly, Dora seems like a woman well able to take care of herself.”

“She does. Very true.”

“If Peggy really was killed, she must have had possession of damaging information. Dora, well, she knew Dicky was a rat, but there’s no law against being a rat, and however much a misery she made his life, she wasn’t really threatening the business enterprise because she didn’t really know anything.”

“Dora was working to have Dicky thrown out of the country. Had she succeeded, that would have been a disruption to the business plan.”

“True, I guess. Although there was still Cory. Besides, Dora didn’t succeed in having Dicky deported.”

“We need to find Cory,” Elysia remarked.

A.J. gave her an uneasy glance. “One thing. I thought her expression changed when we mentioned Dicky was fired from the SCA. She sort of hesitated.”

“I noticed that,” agreed Elysia.

“Maybe it was just surprise, but what if it was something else? After all, her field is archeology. What if all those artifacts and objets d’art in her apartment aren’t replicas? What if she was involved in some antiquities smuggling scheme with Dicky and he double-crossed her?”

Elysia looked delighted. “Pumpkin, that’s very good. In fact it’s brilliant. You’re beginning to think like me. Just because Dicky was a blackmailer doesn’t mean he was killed because of his blackmailing.”

“But we keep coming back to the problem of that alibi of Dora’s.”

“It is annoying.”

“Yes. I don’t think it’s an easy one to break. You can’t really rush out of a salon with those little foils on your head or hair full of glaze and not expect someone to notice.”

“Perhaps she has a twin sister. I remember once on an episode of
2—
”

“I really doubt that’s the solution. Besides, knowing Jake, he probably checked.” A.J. considered their interview with Dora. “Come to think of it, why
wasn’t
she able to get Dicky thrown out of the country?”

“Perhaps he was here legally. Some people
do
enter the country legally. I did.”

“It would be one of the only honest things he did,” A.J. said.

“Mara
Allen on line three,” Emma said briskly over the intercom.

A.J. blinked at the phone as the call rang through. She picked up on the second trill.

“A.J.,” Mara greeted her in that carefully modulated, super-serene voice. “I was wondering if you were free for lunch?”

“Of course.” A.J. answered automatically, her gaze sweeping her day planner.

“Wonderful. Why don’t I meet you at Butterfly Bistro on Main Street at, say, eleven thirty?”

“I’ll see you then,” A.J. said cheerfully. In fact she was more curious than cheerful, and her curiosity was tinged with wariness. But at least now she might finally hear exactly what was behind these weird rumors of buyouts and takeovers.

The morning flew by. A.J. taught her Itsy Bitsy Yoga class, her Yoga for Kids, put together an ad for hiring a masseuse, and before she knew it, it was time to leave for her lunch meeting with Mara.

She opened her office door and found Suze and Emma Rice hovering.

“What’s up?”

“What did Mara Allen want?” Suze demanded in a stage whisper Lily could probably hear through the hallway walls.

A.J. threw a meaningful look at Lily’s closed office door and Emma said, “She’s upstairs teaching Attila the Hun Yoga.”

A.J. bit her lip. It would be highly inappropriate to laugh at such disrespect. It wasn’t easy to keep a straight face, though. She said truthfully, “I don’t know what Mara wants. I guess I’ll find out at lunch.”

“I know exactly what she wants,” Suze said. “She wants Sacred Balance.”

“You can’t sell to her,” Emma said. “I’ve seen those commercials of hers on late night TV. She’s like . . . like . . .”

“She’s like one of those energy vampires!” Suze exclaimed. “Like a succubus.”

Emma and A.J. said at the same time, “A
what
?” Suze blushed. “Maybe that’s not the right word, but she’s . . . .”

“She’s wrong for Sacred Balance,” Emma said firmly.

“That’s okay because I have no intention of selling to her or anyone else.” A.J. slipped past them. “But I have to hear her out. I
want
to hear her out. I want to know what exactly is going on around here. Don’t worry. I’ll fill you in when I get back.”

Their worried expressions did not alter as she hurried out the glass doors.

Butterfly
Bistro was the newest restaurant to try its luck in the troubled economy of Stillbrook. It was a small European-style café with an emphasis on trendy rather than good food.

Mara was already waiting at an outside table when A.J. arrived. She was signing an autograph for a teenaged girl.

“She’s not even one of my students,” Mara said, amusedly as the girl departed. “Perhaps she’s a Sacred Balance student?”

“I’ve never seen her before.”

Mara raised her pale eyebrows. “A yoga aspirant on your own front doorstep and you didn’t know. It’s a world of endless surprises.”

That was one of Mara’s catch phrases on her infomercials.
It’s a world of endless surprises.

They ordered their meals. Vegetarian and decaf for Mara, and a chicken and walnut salad for A.J.

“How is business?” Mara seemed very sincere.

“It’s good.”

“Is it? I’ll be honest. I’ve heard rumors that you’re struggling a little.”

“I’m quite sure where you heard those rumors,” A.J. said dryly. “But as much as Lily would love to believe I’m ready to throw in the towel, I feel very happy and satisfied with everything we’re achieving at Sacred Balance.”

“And what is that?” Mara was smiling, there didn’t seem to be any bite to the question, and yet A.J. couldn’t help feeling as though a pop quiz had just been sprung on her.

“Teaching our students the integration of mind, body, and spirit through the practice of yoga.”

“But there’s so much more to yoga than health and self-awareness.”

“I realize that. But—”

“When you stop to consider that Maharishi Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras are the oldest known writings available to us. Just imagine. Those sutras date back to two thousand BC . . .”

Mara was off and running, and A.J. listened politely, nodding noncommittally and wondering when Mara was going to get to the real point of this meeting. If her intention was to reiterate how much more she knew than A.J. about yoga and running a studio, she could have saved herself the cost of an overpriced lunch. A.J. knew only too well how much she had yet to learn.

“So you see, A.J., there are other considerations here.”

A.J. realized that Mara was looking at her expectantly. It was the same expression she used so effectively in her infomercials as she was asking viewers to reach for the phone, credit cards in hand. A.J. racked her brains trying to remember the last things Mara had said. A.J. had been thinking about Jake and the funny pause before he’d left her house on Tuesday night, about Dora and whether hers could have been the voice in Dicky Massri’s apartment, and about whether she had time to squeeze in a quick visit to Mr. Meagher’s when she and Mara finished up.

Apparently they were closer to finishing than she’d realized.

“Sorry?” she said. “I missed that.”

“I’d like to make you an offer for Sacred Balance.”

“Sacred Balance is not for sale.”

“A.J.” Mara’s serenity nearly slipped. She must have been offering her best sales pitch while A.J.’s mind was wandering. No wonder she was exasperated. “I have to say that your attitude is not in keeping with the true yoga spirit.”

A.J. took a moment to consider the best way to say what she needed to say; she didn’t want to be aggressive because Mara might not realize how insulting she was. “I know I still have a great deal to learn. I know that I make mistakes. I know that I might not even be the right person to manage Sacred Balance, but the studio was left in trust to me.”

Mara opened her mouth, but A.J. kept speaking politely, but firmly. “I know some people think that the only reason I’m hanging on is out of the desire to honor my aunt’s wishes, but that’s not true. Well, it’s partly true. I do want to honor her wishes, but even more important to me is what the studio, what rediscovering yoga, has brought to my life. And that journey is something that we’re all sharing at Sacred Balance.”

Lily’s scowling face appeared in A.J.’s mind’s eye. “Well, maybe not all of us, but most of us. We’re all learning together, we’re all growing together, we’re all harvesting Aunt Di’s legacy together. So while my decision may not be the best decision from a business standpoint, I do think it is in keeping with the yoga spirit.”

Mara smiled without warmth. “You can’t say I didn’t try.”

“I would never say that.”