Goddess, Guilted Read online

  Goddess, Guilted

  Book 2 in The Yoga Mat Cozy Mystery Series

  By Jacqueline M. Green

  Copyright © 2019 Jacqueline M. Green

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or towns, or even actual yoga studios is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  About the author

  From the author

  What’s next for Mariah?

  Corpse Pose, Indeed

  Chapter 1

  Seated on my yoga mat at the front of the room, I inhaled deeply and silently counted dollar bills instead of breaths. How much money had this class would brought in? Several students had bought passes and a few had paid the drop-in rate. I shook my shoulders to relax them and opened my eyes. My students stared at me, waiting.

  Apparently, centering time had gone on a touch too long.

  Oops.

  I gave my best yoga instructor smile and lifted my hands over my head, beginning the class.

  Money worries played a huge distraction these days as my fledgling yoga studio struggled to bounce back from last month’s drop. Apparently, students are hesitant to try a new studio where someone died during savasana, particularly if that student was murdered. My little studio, The Yoga Mat, located on Main Street in downtown Jasper, wasn’t booming.

  Yet, I told myself. It wasn’t booming yet.

  I pushed aside my worries as I took the class onto their knees for warm-up Cat and Cow poses then to standing to begin a vinyasa flow. Today our flow focused on the Goddess Pose in preparation for a visit from the “goddess.” At least that’s what she calls herself: Goddess Tamara, Yogi to the Stars.

  The first time I heard of her, my eyes rolled involuntarily. However, Tamara is the yoga flavor of the month as she instructs everyone who is anyone on the yoga lifestyle. She has appeared on the covers of yoga magazines as well celebrity and women’s magazines.

  A series of events led to Tamara’s workshop at The Yoga Mat. First, Angelica, the younger sister of my friend Josie, began to work for Tamara in Los Angeles. Then Josie’s brother began to date her. With two such “ins” with the goddess herself, well, of course I had to see if she would teach a workshop at The Yoga Mat.

  She graciously agreed – for an outrageous fee. Fortunately, we had quickly filled the roster, attracting students from surrounding towns and even as far away as Sacramento to the three-hour workshop, The Goddess in You: How Yoga Can Turn Anyone into a Goddess.

  I wasn’t breathing easy just yet, however. This workshop would need to deliver the goods or the reputation of The Yoga Mat would suffer. With my nearly new studio, I couldn’t afford more negative publicity.

  Stormy McMaster, my part-time receptionist and full-time shadow, said the phone still rang off the hook during the day with people wanting to be put on the waiting list. If this workshop was a success, I would try to bring in more celebrity teachers. But right now, I wanted to be done with the glitz and glamor of the “Goddess” as soon as possible. The most I wanted to worry about was my little studio and the monthly Jaspar Movie Night and Silent Auction.

  It hadn’t been so quiet last month, when a student had died in my class and I had been accused of poisoning her. It still grates, but I work every day at not being bitter.

  Sometimes, I’m more successful at it than others.

  Today, I smirked a little – no, I’m not proud of it – as I watched Detective Neil Samuelson fall out of Goddess pose just as I brought everyone into a balancing variation by lifting their heels. Neil had tried to make up for arresting me last month by buying a six-month pass to my studio. It took more than that for me to forgive him, however, even if those blue-gray eyes of his were mesmerizing. Ahem. Not that I noticed.

  I pulled my eyes from the buff detective and scanned the room, my heart welling up with gratitude. My sister, Cindy, was in her usual place near the door. Not only was she one of my part-time yoga instructors, she was also the county sheriff. Next to her was my best friend, CeCe.

  Angelica was near the front of the room and followed my cues easily into Triangle and then a high lunge. Angelica had accompanied her boss and brother back to Jasper for several days of relaxation in addition to the workshop.

  When class was over and students were milling around the lobby and pulling on their shoes, I ducked into my small office to take a payment. My sister stuck her head in the door.

  “We’re going for pizza. You in?”

  “Pizza? Seriously?” I handed back my student’s credit card, then paused to stare at Cindy. “You just gave your body this enormous treat, this gift of yoga for an hour, and now you want to go and spoil it with pizza?”

  “So, you’re not coming?”

  “Oh, no, I’m in. I’m starving.” I grinned as she shook her head, her blond ponytail bobbing back and forth. “Give me a few minutes to close and I’ll meet you there.”

  It took longer than usual to close up for the night. Students wanted to stay and chat excitedly about Goddess Tamara’s upcoming workshop.

  “I saw her once in Orange County and she was just so ethereal,” one woman said. “She really spoke to the mind-body connection.”

  Like I do every day. I gritted my teeth and took a deep calming breath through my nose. Stormy, standing next to me, must have heard my breath because she threw me a smirk and then moved to tidy the studio. I made a face at her, then looked calmly back at my students. They were excited about someone famous coming in, that was all. Not to be crass, but if it kept them buying passes at The Yoga Mat, I was all for it.

  Angelica sat quietly in an empty space in the corner, reaching a tattooed arm toward the cubbies and pulling on pink-and-purple tennis shoes. Most people who work for someone famous might be tempted to name-drop in a crowd of fans, but Angelica seemed content to listen to the chatter about her boss, Tamara. As she pressed her foot into a shoe, I tapped her shoulder.

  “Josie’s going to meet us at Luigi’s. Do you want to join us?”

  Angelica smiled shyly and nodded. “That would be great. I’m pretty hungry after that workout.”

  Stormy and I finally moved the chattering students out the door and we fled with Angelica down the street to Luigi’s Pizzeria.

  Luigi’s was a classic pizza joint with red-checked tablecloths and pitchers of beer. The current owner, Lou, was the son of the original Luigi. Most nights, the place bustled with locals and tonight was no exception. I looked around the room, waving to a few people I knew.

  Jennifer Parks from the Safety Blanket nonprofit waved back. She put her fingers to her ears in the international sign for “call me.” I nodded and she turned back to her dinner companion, whom I noticed was Maya Anderson, the reporter at the local weekly newspaper. We were planning to do another fund-raiser for Saf
ety Blanket and I needed to follow up with both women about it. I added “Safety Blanket” to my mental checklist.

  Cindy had already ordered the pizza along with a pitcher of root beer.

  “Good class tonight, sis.” Cindy handed me two glasses of root beer, which I passed to Angelica and Stormy, then I accepted the next one. Neil and CeCe chimed in from their places around the table.

  “Yeah, but why do we keep doing Goddess?”

  “It’s haaarrrd,” CeCe whined.

  I lifted my icy root beer glass to them. “Here’s to you for doing just as much as you can do without comparing yourself to anyone else.”

  “Ugh. I hate it when you go all yoga teacher zen.” CeCe made a face at me.

  Setting down the glass, I raised my arms over my head in a big stretch. Another long day. Pizza made the perfect ending.

  The owner of Luigi’s Pizzeria, Lou, had just set down three large pizzas when Josie walked in, trailed by a small crowd that seemed to include family and friends as well as a woman who walked as if floating on air. Even if I hadn’t already met her this week when she dropped by to check out the studio, I would have recognized the Goddess Tamara.

  This being a small town, people stopped talking to stare. Josie ignored the sudden change in voices, making a beeline for our table as soon as she spotted us. A slight smile appeared on the Goddess’ face as she followed Josie toward us.

  “Mariah, so lovely to see you again. I am so looking forward to our workshop next weekend.” She gently clasped one of my hands in both of hers. She held my hand slightly longer than necessary. I started to pull them away and noticed she turned and smiled off to the side. I followed her gaze and frowned.

  Maya Anderson, the reporter, lowered her smart phone and gave me a thumbs-up. Man, she had made it across the room quickly. Tamara turned her attention back to me. “The press is always around, right?” She shrugged a delicate “what can you do?” sign.

  Tamara’s thin frame looked fragile until you noticed the muscles in her arms, strength built up from hours of Ashtanga yoga. I glanced down at my own slightly pudgy body, then stood a little straighter as I felt those old feelings of inadequacy try to slip in. I shook my head and reminded myself that yoga had made me both resilient and strong under that soft coating. I didn’t need to compare myself to the Goddess Tamara.

  “We are so happy —” I started to say before a familiar voice interrupted.

  `”Hey, don’t take that. I want another.” The voice rose suddenly above the throng from the corner of the restaurant. “Hey!”

  I looked up and recognized Jerry McIntyre, the owner of the Corner Mercantile shop on Main Street, just as he grabbed the young waitress’ arm. Startled, she jerked away and dropped the mug in her hand. Leftover beer dashed everywhere, including on Lou as he approached. He stepped between Jerry and the girl, motioning her back toward the counter.

  The place went silent as Lou lowered his voice. “It’s time for something else.”

  He reached an open hand toward his left. A server shoved a mug of what looked like soda into it. Lou swung it back around toward Jerry.

  “Here you go, friend. Let’s settle down with some good old Coca-Cola.”

  Jerry knocked the glass with his hand. Whether he did it from lack of muscle control or on purpose was hard to tell. Cindy and Neil stood up on opposite sides of our table and quietly started toward Jerry and Lou.

  Cindy turned briefly back to the table. “Nothing to see here, folks. Get back to your pizza.”

  I dutifully picked up my slice of vegetarian pizza, but my eyes stayed on the show in the corner.

  Neil slipped into position behind Lou.

  “Gimme a beer – and I’m not your friend.” He lifted his eyes squinting them to focus on Lou. “I know what you’ve been doing with my wife.”

  Lou took a deep breath and placed the soda glass in front of Jerry. “No more beer for you tonight, Jerry. You’re cut off.”

  The front door swung open. Sandy McIntyre flung herself in as if the wind had blown her through the door.

  Disgust fleeting across her lined face, Sandy placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder but turned her attention to Lou. Her expression softened as she looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where he had gotten off to tonight. We were busy unloading the truck.”

  Lou’s eyes locked into hers as he smiled. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got a full house and I just don’t have the patience to deal with him tonight.”

  Sandy turned her attention back to Jerry. She leaned in to talk softly to him, then gently nudged him up out of his seat. She noticed Maya standing nearby, her camera phone at the ready. “You didn’t take any pictures of that, did you?” Maya shook her head. “You better not. He’s a private citizen. You leave him alone.”

  “I just wanted a beer,” Jerry mumbled as they stumbled toward the door.

  “I know, honey.” Sandy’s voice changed back to soothing, which seemed to calm him down. Neil followed them out the door and stood talking to Sandy for a few moments outside.

  The whole pizza shop had seemed enthralled with the drama in front of us. Tamara’s eyes were wide. Jennifer sat with one hand over her mouth as she watched Sandy and Jerry leave. Maya tucked her phone into her back pocket and returned to her table.

  Cindy turned back to the restaurant. “Show’s over, folks. If you don’t get back to eating your pizza, then I will.” With that, she rejoined our table, sitting down and picking up her slice of pepperoni and sausage.

  Josie and her family quickly filled in the empty spaces at the table in a chaotic scramble, Josie scooting in next to me. She grabbed a slice from the pan as I bit into the pizza, enjoying the gooey cheese stretching between my mouth and the slice.

  Neil quietly slipped back into his chair across from me. He leaned across the table to say something I couldn’t hear to Cindy, who nodded. “We’ll follow up later,” she said.

  Neil nodded in response and bit into his pizza. He quietly sat and ate, then glanced up and smiled into my eyes. Oh, yes, I definitely smiled back.

  Tamara kept glancing over her shoulder toward the door.

  “Everything okay, Tamara?” Neil asked, putting an emphasis on the “Tam.”

  She jumped as if she hadn’t been aware she was being watched. She nodded and picked up her water cup to sip, then paused and looked at him.

  “Actually, it’s pronounced Ta-MAR-uh, not TAM-ara.”

  Neil swallowed quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mispronounce your name.”

  She waved a hand. “That’s all right. It happens a lot.” She glanced again over her shoulder at the door.

  “I understand you used to visit Jasper when you were a child.” Neil wiped his mouth, then took another bite.

  Tamara avoided his eyes as she played with the water drips on the side of the frosty glass, opening her mouth to speak, then closing it again. She seemed to be weighing just what to say.

  The silence started to drag out. Neil calmly leaned forward to take a bite of the garlic chicken pizza, letting the oil drip onto his plate and a drop ran down his chin.

  Our eyes met over the table. I handed him a napkin. Amusement lit his eyes as he wiped off the grease, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I had nearly forgotten Neil had asked the question when Tamara finally spoke.

  “To answer your question, yes, we came here when I was a child. I have lots of good memories of Jasper.”

  “What’s your favorite memory?” Neil pressed on. I could tell he was trying to make her feel more comfortable after that disturbing scene with Jerry. He watched Tamara, one eyebrow lifted quizzically. She turned to favor him with a smile.

  “Detective, I couldn’t even count all the good times we had here. We loved to go hiking and horseback riding when we were here, and when I got older, why, swimming at the river, right?”

  Everyone except me laughed, including Tamara, whose laugh sounded like a tinkling bell. I looked around th
e table, then leaned toward Josie. “What’s so funny?”

  Josie smiled. “When we were in high school ‘swimming at the river’ was code for making out with a boyfriend or girlfriend.”

  “Ah, you had a summertime romance?” CeCe smiled. “Sounds perfect.”

  Tamara laughed, then reached for a slice of the vegetarian pizza. “I was only fourteen, so I don’t know how perfect it was, but it was fun while it lasted.”

  CeCe leaned toward Tamara, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Who was this teenage Romeo?”

  Tamara smiled and nudged Deangelo with her elbow. He blushed.

  “Deangelo, really?” Josie’s surprise was palpable.

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I was a hottie back in my pre-high school days.”

  Tamara smiled gently. “Still are.”

  He blushed again and gave her a quick kiss on the cheeks as she nibbled her pizza crust.

  “And how did you rekindle your romance?” I couldn’t tell if CeCe was being nosey or if she was just a sucker for a good romantic tale.

  Tamara and Deangelo exchanged a look. She nodded almost imperceptibly. Deangelo took a breath and squared his shoulders. “I was working in LA, see, when Angel – my sister, Angelica there – called me up and said I’d never guess who she was working for.”

  “He guessed like five people I had never heard of before I told him to shut up, that it was just a rhetorical question.” Angelica broke in, shaking her head. “I told him, no, it’s Tamara! I had run into her at the hospital where I was doing some EMT practicums and she was teaching yoga.”

  “Eventually, Tamara hired Angel, and Angel called me.” Deangelo stopped and took a bite of his pizza as if that was the end of the story. Tamara looked at him in surprise.

  “You’re not going to tell the rest?”

  Deangelo laughed, making it hard for him to swallow. “Nah, it makes me look like a stalker.”

  “You were a stalker!” Tamara and Angelica said it together.

  Deangelo just laughed and continued. “I found out where else Tamara taught. Then I joined that gym and I just started showing up in her classes.”