Murder on the Eightfold Path by Diana Killian Read Free Book Online Page A

own,” he said a little grimly.
    “How are things with Nick?”
    His voice was relaxed as he answered. “The best. The best they’ve ever been. Although it turns out he does have this freaky and totally unnecessary maternal streak.”
    A.J. chuckled. “I’m glad. I mean that things are good. You two deserve each other.”
    “I’m sure that’s not entirely a compliment. So what about you and Jake? Has he popped the question yet? I mean, before all this happened. I assume you won’t marry him if he puts Elysia in prison.”
    “No.” A.J. added quickly, “I mean no, he didn’t pop the question. Anyway it’s way too soon for that.”
    “Not necessarily. Sometimes all it takes is one look.” Andy and Nick had fallen in love at first sight, but that was still a painful memory for A.J. Her silence must have reminded him of this, for Andy said awkwardly, “But I can see how suspecting your mum of murder might put a crimp in things.”
    “A little. The scary thing is I’m sure they wouldn’t have arrested her so quickly if they didn’t have a mountain of evidence already.”
    “Circumstantial,” Andy scoffed.
    “I don’t know if it’s circumstantial or not. We haven’t heard what all the evidence is. The murder happened in her front yard. She admits she was paying this man blackmail money.”
    “Yeah, but this is Elysia. That money was probably her equivalent of the normal person’s entertainment budget.”
    “Ten thousand dollars?”
    Even Andy didn’t have an answer for that one.
    Unwillingly, A.J. admitted, “Even if I wanted to, I’m not exactly sure where to start, um, investigating.”
    “Start with the victim,” Andy said with brisk confidence, just as though he’d been solving baffling mysteries for the last decade or so. “Start with Ellie’s Egyptian gigolo.”
     
    The next morning Stella drove A.J. into the borough of Rutherford to receive cortisone shots. Had A.J. been feeling better she might have tried walking the thirty miles; it could hardly have wasted more time, because Stella, a nervous and unhappy chauffeur, drove as though she had a jar of unstable nitroglycerin bouncing around in the truck bed. If A.J. hadn’t traveled short distances with Stella before, she might have thought she was driving slowly out of consideration for A.J.’s bad back, but no such luck.
    The slow drive prolonged the pain of sitting, which was, as much as A.J. hated to admit it, excruciating. But they arrived at long last at the clinic; A.J. changed into a hospital shift and lay very carefully down on the X-ray table, a small pillow under her stomach to curve her back. If this didn’t work, she was considering trying acupuncture or another alternative medicine.
    Her lower back was swabbed and then numbed with a local anesthetic. Then the surgeon used fluoroscopy—a live X-ray—to guide the needle toward the epidural space. A.J. closed her eyes, tuning it out. At roughly six thousand dollars a pop, she sincerely hoped this would do her good. Sometimes it did, sometimes it didn’t.
    Using the breathing techniques she practiced in yoga, she relaxed and tried to think positive, healing thoughts. She had been hoping that with yoga and proper exercise she might never have to go through this again.
    After the epidural, she rested for twenty minutes and was then released.
    Though not groggy exactly, A.J. had not slept the night before, and she was tired and emotionally drained—never mind the fact that her back was tender. She rested her head against the cab window as the truck crept toward home, Stella’s deep voice a comfortable white noise in the background of her thoughts.
    Her cell rang. A.J. fumbled it out of her purse and received word from Mr. Meagher that Elysia was being released on bail within the hour.
    Stella obligingly, if slowly, changed direction, and A.J. worked to contain her impatience as the pickup truck moseyed on down the highway back to Stillbrook.
    When they arrived they found