Goddess, Guilted Read online

  Josie licked her fingers, then used them to tick off the reasons.

  “One, she had means, obviously – she was holding the knife that killed Jerry when we found her.” She ticked off another finger. “Two, she had opportunity on the back steps of the hotel where she was going to meet Tamara and, three, they said she has motive because she was trying to protect Tamara. Plus, she has a fairly lengthy rap sheet from her druggie days.”

  “Angelica does drugs?” I sat up straighter and stared at Josie. “I don’t see that at all.”

  Josie smiled and nodded. “Did drugs. She’s been clean for three years. Yoga actually helped her a lot, that and twelve-step programs.”

  I wasn’t surprised that yoga had helped her get clean and sober. A teacher of mine told me that once a student begins practicing yoga, she can change other areas of her life as well.

  “I remember hearing about her.” CeCe pulled off a piece of croissant. “Seems like she was in the Jasper crime blotter every other week.”

  “For what?” This did not sound at all like the Angelica I had met.

  “Petty crime, mostly.” Josie played with the plate holding the croissants and suddenly wouldn’t make eye contact. “But she did have one assault charge toward the end. She took on some guy in a bar over in Auburn. With a knife.”

  Chapter 5

  I stared at Josie. “You might have led with that, or at least mentioned it sooner.”

  This new information potentially changed things. If Neil felt Angelica had a history of stabbing people, of course he would keep her in jail. I probably would, too.

  Josie played with her cup, emotions angling for room on her face. “Look, one of the reasons the charge was dropped was that she got clean as part of the deal. Plus, it’s not like it’s a pattern. It happened one time.”

  The bell dinged at the front of the coffee shop and, as we nearly always did, our heads swiveled toward the door to see who had arrived. Jennifer Parks stepped in, her face tilted downward.

  CeCe glanced at the empty take-out counter and jumped up to greet her and take her order. She opened her eyes wide and kept nodding toward Jennifer, like she was trying to send us a coded message. My brow furrowed as I peered at her, then shrugged.

  “Do you see CeCe?”

  “I don’t know what she wants us to do,” Josie responded as she took another sip from her cup but kept looking toward the counter.

  Jennifer turned around as she waited for her order and saw us watching. Her eyes, rimmed with red, seemed lost as her face puckered.

  I waved her over. She shook her head, so I slipped out of the booth.

  “Jennifer, are you okay?”

  She shook her head again and tears welled up in her eyes. “I just heard about Jerry. He was a friend, ya know?”

  I patted her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Were you close?”

  She nodded. “He was a great guy, so generous. Who would do such a thing?” Then Jennifer realized Josie was sitting in the booth and she strode over to her.

  “Your sister. Did you sister do this? Did she kill Jerry?”

  Josie sat up straight, her dark eyes flashing. She struggled to maintain her calm, but I could tell it was a battle. She slipped out of the booth so she stood taller than Jennifer and took a deep breath. “Jennifer, this isn’t the time or place.”

  “Did she?” Jennifer’s voice grew louder. “She always thought she could do whatever she wanted here and look what happened. I’m glad she’s in jail for what she did to him.”

  “Jennifer, it’s time for you to leave.”

  She wiped at her face, leaving streaks from the tears and snot on her cheeks. CeCe reached around her and handed her two paper coffee cups in a carrier along with a pastry bag. Jennifer took it without acknowledging CeCe, her eyes on Josie. Her face seemed to crumple in on itself before she turned and lurched toward the door. Maya Anderson appeared outside and put an arm around her friend as they walked away.

  The three of us stood in awkward silence, then slipped back into the booth.

  “That was interesting.” Josie sipped her coffee, holding the mug with both hands.

  “That’s an understatement.” I picked up my mocha. “We’re going to need to talk with Jennifer Parks some more. Maya Anderson, too.”

  “Why Maya?” CeCe turned a puzzled face toward me.

  “Last night, she talked about Jerry as if he was already dead. How would she have known that?”

  We sat in silence for a few moments. I needed to change the subject.

  “So, CeCe, how was your date last night?” I tried to act casual.

  CeCe smiled and refolded the cloth in front of her.

  “Date? What date? You were supposed to have dinner with us. ” Josie sat up straighter and peered at CeCe, who shrugged.

  “You stood me up.”

  “Because of a murder.”

  CeCe smiled, her eyes wide. “I’m not ready to talk about it – or him – yet.”

  “You’ve been saying that for over a month now.” Josie and I reached for the last of the chocolate croissant at the same time. I backed away, figuring she needed the sugar more than I did today.

  “Soon.” CeCe smiled, then slipped back out of the seat and skipped down the aisle back to the coffee counter.

  “This Paul thing might be more serious than she is letting on.” Josie wiped her fingers on her napkin as she watched CeCe step behind the counter and greet a customer. “I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.”

  CeCe’s divorce was brutal – and legendary in Jasper. It happened before I moved here to be closer to Cindy, but I still heard most of the details about her ex-husband. If what I’d heard was accurate, most men in town were afraid to get on CeCe’s bad side.

  I followed her eyes toward CeCe, leaning my chin on my hand.

  “Don’t you have a class or something?” Josie interrupted my thoughts.

  “Oh, crumb!” I jumped up, paused to swig the rest of my mocha, and raced out the door.

  Chapter 6

  The morning fairly flew. By the time the noon class rolled around, I had marked off most of my lengthy to-do list. The front door opened with regularity by about a quarter to twelve, as students popped in for a mid-day yoga break. The class was typically filled with students who wanted to sweat along with their stretches.

  I put a citrus scent in the diffuser to energize the air and began to greet students. About ten minutes before class was to start, as I was taking a credit card payment in the office, the lobby and studio area went silent. Puzzled, I poked my head through the office door to see what had changed the atmosphere.

  Goddess Tamara stood tentatively in the lobby. She smiled as I walked toward her, then enveloped me in a hug.

  “Welcome back to The Yoga Mat, Tamara. Did you want to look around a little more?” My voice was calm, but on the inside all I could think was please, please, please don’t stay for class. I wasn’t sure my nerves were up to teaching a class with the Goddess Tamara in attendance.

  “Actually, Mariah, I hoped to attend your class today.” Dang it. “With all that’s going on at the hotel, I just needed to get out and find a good space. You don’t mind, right?” She looked at me tentatively.

  “No, of course, I don’t. You are more than welcome here.” Yes, of course, I lied. No way was I going to admit she made me nervous. A celebrity yogi in my class? No problem.

  I showed her where to store her things, and she insisted on paying the drop-in fee, which made me think a little more highly of her. She didn’t think she was so important she didn’t have to pay the fees. Then she slipped off her sandals and padded toward the back row of the class. She quietly set down her mat and settled into place, crossing her legs in Easy Pose and closing her eyes.

  My students watched her every move, even those who pretended to be busy with their own mats while she was setting out hers.

  I shrugged. Okay, so the Goddess just wanted to do yoga. Who knew? After talking with Josie about sat
ya at the coffee shop, I had decided to use that as a theme for classes that day. I had also planned to feature a few more Goddess poses, but that seemed awkward with the actual “goddess” in the class. I didn’t want to call any more attention to her than necessary or have my students feel she was critiquing their Goddess pose.

  Goddess pose can be difficult for many. Standing with legs wide on the mat, toes pointed outward at an angle, we sit straight down just before our knees want to wobble inward. This is where many go wrong as they try to keep their knees bent without splaying them outward.

  I switched gears and mentally substituted Triangle and Wide-legged Forward Fold poses in place of Goddess.

  As my students got centered with their eyes closed, I started off the class with the Kali mudra, instructing students to bring their arms straight out in front of them, fingers clasped with the left thumb over the right and the pointer fingers the only fingers not clasped. The Kali Mudra is generally believed to encourage a positive flow while at the same time removing any blockages.

  “During class today, perhaps we can tap into the yogic principle of satya. Remember that satya calls for us to stay open to the truth, encouraging us to see things as they are instead of as we might wish them to be.”

  Tamara’s eyes popped wide open and locked with mine, startling both of us. I gently smiled as I continued to scan the room for anyone showing signs of discomfort. Through my peripheral vision, I noticed Tamara close her eyes again and take deep breaths, and I wondered why truthfulness caused her such distress.

  Once the students had begun class, they seemed to forget Tamara was there. She followed my cues, never substituting poses the way some visiting yoga teachers did. I appreciated the respect she showed to my class and to me. My opinion of her notched up quite a bit.

  When class was over, Tamara quietly talked with a few of the students, although she refused to give autographs or take selfies with them.

  “I’m here in my private time as a student just like you are,” she told them as she gently touched their shoulders or arms before she moved on to the next person.

  I ran interference as best I could, but rabid yoga fans are insistent. After finally shooing them all out the door, I turned to Tamara with a smile.

  “Thank you for class today,” she said as she slipped on her sandals. “I was wondering if I might come by some time before the workshop to have some alone time in the studio, just to adjust to the energy and settle into the space.”

  The hairs stood up on the back of my neck and I scrunched my shoulders to rid myself of the sensation. I bit my lip as I considered her request.

  “I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that, Tamara.” I was hesitant to explain. “We had some trouble some time ago with unwanted visitors, and I’m still a little protective of my studio right now. Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.”

  She looked at me in surprise, then shrugged. “Whatever works best for you, Mariah. I understand.” She smiled again and floated out of the studio with a wave.

  I stood at the doorway of the studio and looked around, although I knew every inch as well as my own hand. Why was she so insistent on having time alone in my studio? And why was I so hesitant to let her have some time here?

  The second question was easier to answer. Just a month ago, someone had hidden a bottle of arsenic in the closet of my studio while trying to frame me for murder. Honestly, that would make anyone protective of their space. I already checked and double-checked the supply cabinet daily now, making sure nothing toxic was there. Stormy watched me do it, too. She never said anything, though. Stormy understood.

  On the other hand, maybe I was just being unreasonable. It’s been known to happen.

  Chapter 7

  CeCe and I were already at the diner, me sipping iced tea and CeCe a glass of white wine when Josie bolted through the door. She threw her bag into a chair and flung herself into the booth opposite us, her face one big scowl.

  Instinctively and in unison, CeCe and I leaned away from her. Josie’s shoulders drooped and she slumped in her seat.

  I touched the space between my eyes. “You’re going to get frown lines if you keep doing that.”

  “Shut up.” She glared at me. I tried not to laugh. Really.

  Our usual waitress plopped a large soda in front of Josie, which forced her eyes off of me and toward her aproned savior.

  “Thank you, Bev. You are an angel and that is the nicest thing anyone has done for me today.”

  Bev guffawed. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough day.”

  Josie shook her head in response. She pointed to the television over the small bar area, where a boxing match appeared to be underway. One boxer had just been pummeled by the other. All three of us stared at it, mesmerized.

  “I feel a little bit like that guy.” Josie pointed to the guy on the television who was now on his knees. “Have I mentioned how much I hate desk duty? I even got a paper cut.” She held a hand, her pinky swathed in a Band-aid.

  “You poor baby.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to experience that.”

  CeCe and I used our sweetest fake voices. Josie made faces at us.

  “At least you didn’t bleed to death. You girls ready to order?” Bev whipped out her pad and we placed our orders.

  We didn’t have strict “usuals,” but we tended to cycle through some favorites. I typically opted for a salad or Bev’s homemade veggie burger, but tonight, I needed comfort food. Grilled cheese with a cup of tomato soup.

  Josie’s eyes went up at my order, but when she ordered meatloaf, I just laughed. Guess we all needed some comfort food tonight.

  “Okay, Josie,” CeCe got right down to business. “What did you learn about the case today?”

  Josie sat back, her eyes distant.

  “Relax your shoulders,” I whispered gently. She smiled as her shoulders visibly relaxed.

  It wasn’t that I was some hot-shot yogi. I just did it myself: Whenever I got upset about something, my shoulders tightened so much I could practically rest my ear lobes on them.

  Releasing my shoulders allowed me to focus on what was at hand rather than hold on to what was troubling me. Kind of like satya, I reflected, then turned my attention back to Josie.

  “Angelica is still in the jail cell, although she might be released to my mom tomorrow, according to Neil,” she paused here and made another face, which is typically something more that I would do, not Josie. Apparently, she was picking up my bad habits.

  “I can see why Neil still has her in jail.” CeCe shrugged. “It doesn’t look good.”

  Josie leaned across the table, putting her hands down and leaning into them. “People. Change, CeCe. Angelica is not the same person she was when she was doing drugs. She has completely turned around her life. She’s taking classes and planning to become a paramedic.”

  CeCe bit her lip as she eyed Josie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  Josie waved away her apology, but her voice sounded small. “It’s okay. It doesn’t look good.”

  “Why hasn’t he let her out on bail? I mean, she’s your sister.” That question had been bothering me all day. “Neil knows you would make sure Angelica stays put.”

  “That’s the problem. Neil said he knew I would, but he couldn’t treat me any differently than he treated someone he didn’t know as well. Seriously, he has been to my mom’s house. My mother has cooked dinner for him. She made her special tamales recipe. He knows us!”

  “Your mom made tamales for him? She hasn’t made tamales for me.”

  “Not the point, Mariah.”

  I was still trying to decide if my feelings should be hurt when CeCe made the rolling motions with her hands to “move things along.”

  “Right. Moving on.” I pulled a small notebook out of my bag. “Let’s talk suspects.”

  Josie and CeCe looked at me wearily. “Do we have to?”

  I looked up to see Bev striding our way with a tray of food and sh
oved the notebook to the side. “Naw, we can wait until after we eat.”

  Dinner was quieter than usual. I enjoyed my decadent and greasy grilled cheese, figuring it was harder to put my foot in my mouth if my mouth was filled with something, even greasy grilled cheese.

  Josie and I both swiped potato chips from CeCe’s plate. She always got chips or French fries but rarely ate them all, so we considered it “friendly food” and helped ourselves. The only time she swatted our hands away was if she got the garlic fries. Since she’d been dating Paul the barista, however, I noticed she ordered garlic fries less often.

  As soon as we were finished, CeCe and I pushed our plates aside and I set the notebook in front of me. I looked at my friends expectantly.

  “First, I think we need to know why Neil thinks Angelica would kill for Tamara.”

  CeCe gingerly wiped her hands on a napkin, glancing sideways up at Josie.

  Josie played with the leftover food on her plate. “Not just Angelica. Neil is also looking at Deangelo.”

  Chapter 8

  “Neil thinks your little sister, your little brother or both killed Jerry McIntyre?” I stared at Josie incredulously.

  She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yep. He’s got a pretty high opinion of the Vazquez clan right now.”

  “Interesting that they both have ‘angel’ in their names,” CeCe mused, her hands playing with the stem of her wine glass, with the wine mostly gone by now.

  “They were all pretty much angels after me.” Josie chuckled. “I was the one that was hell on wheels.”

  My mouth fell open. “You? You’re the most straight-laced, law-abiding person I know.”

  “Now I am.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

  I tapped the pen on the notepad to bring us back to the business at hand.