Diana Killian - Murder On The Eightfold Path

“Why?”

“I often play solitaire when I can’t sleep.”

A.J. returned to her mother’s bedroom door. “Do you often have trouble sleeping?”

Elysia shrugged a bony shoulder and scooped up a couple of cards.

A.J. studied her, troubled. There were so many things about her mother that she still didn’t know after all this time. But then they had been strangers to each other for nearly thirty years.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

Elysia raised her brows, her attention still apparently on the cards.

“When you and Daddy split up for that year and we stayed in Stillbrook… what happened?”

Elysia’s hand froze on the card she was selecting. Then she picked it up, checked it, and laid it back down. “You know what happened. We decided that we had made a mistake and we reconciled.” She added firmly, “And we lived happily ever after.”

A.J. checked this against her adolescent memories. It was true that no matter how miserable her parents were, they had always been more miserable apart.

Her recollection of that particular time was especially vague. She had been the usual gawky, self-absorbed, and insecure teen-and that year had been hell on earth. Stillbrook had been the place her family came to vacation; living there, attending school there, was a very different thing. Without her father’s stabilizing presence the only person she’d had to rely on was Aunt Diantha.

But there was no point dragging up these dreary memories. The past was just that; she was committed to living in the moment.

So A.J. was surprised to hear herself ask, “What happened between you and Stella Borin?”

Elysia continued to check cards and turn them back over. At last, she said evenly, “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Your father had an affair with her.”

“With Stella?”

It was like being told you were related to Porky Pig-absolutely and ludicrously beyond the realm of possibility. But one look at her mother’s face told her it was not a joke.

“With the Stella Borin who lives down the road from me?” As though her mother might have confused her Stella Borins.

Elysia reaffirmed crisply, “Your father had an affair with Stella Borin.”

“How?”

Even Elysia was thrown by that one. “How? All the usual ways, I suppose.” She sighed. “Your father owned Starlight Farm before we married. His family used to come up for the summer when he was a boy, and when he became successful he bought Starlight Farm. That’s how we met. I was on holiday, staying with Di.” A faint reminiscent smile touched her mouth.

A.J. said tentatively, “And he knew Stella from… before?”

“Yes.” Elysia made a face. “I can only imagine she was very different in those days.”

Maybe. Maybe not. Stella might not have been a beauty queen, but she was kind and loyal and direct. She was also refreshingly uncomplicated, and that alone had probably held charm for A.J.’s father. Not that A.J. was foolish enough to say so.

What she did say was, “And you think they had an affair?”

“I know they did.”

“Daddy admitted it?”

“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?”