Corpse Pose

by Diana Killian

  Andy would have been chatting about this and that; they’d always had a lot to talk about, even before they were business partners. Jake Oberlin was the laconic kind. He didn’t seem to have much to say, although breaking bread had been his idea.

  One thing she had learned the hard way, gay guys didn’t fit any particular type. Andy hadn’t been aggressively masculine, true, but his new boyfriend was about as manly man as they came. Tall, dark, and inarticulate. Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair; naturally Nick Grant hadn’t had much to say to A.J. Presumably he and Andy had something to talk about over the breakfast table.

  Besides, although Oberlin didn’t wear a ring, that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t married. Not that she could ask that without giving the totally wrong impression.

  She sought for a neutral topic and said, “So you’re completely satisfied that Jennifer Stevenson and her friends were just joyriding?”

  “Looks that way.” His mouth twisted in something distantly related to a smile. “Yeah, I’m satisfied.”

  “I take it they weren’t charged with reckless driving or anything?”

  He gave her a level look. “Jennifer Stevenson is the daughter of this town’s leading family. I could arrest her and you could press charges, but I don’t think much would come of it, do you?”

  And it probably wouldn’t be very good for his career—or her popularity rating.

  “The receptionist over at Sacred Balance was telling me that my aunt worked with a lot of teens.”

  “That’s true. Jennifer’s in college, though.”

  “Is teen crime a problem up here?”

  “Not especially. A couple of kids have had some problems. Your aunt was good at getting through to them.”

  A.J. nodded, smiling reminiscently. “You could talk to Aunt Di about anything, and you knew she wouldn’t judge. She’d give you her thoughts, and she’d been around, done a lot, but she didn’t judge. And she never revealed a confidence or broke a promise. That means a lot when you’re a kid.”

  “It means something to adults, too.”

  “Of course, that doesn’t mean she didn’t have opinions.”

  This time the smile actually touched his eyes. For a moment she saw what he must be like when he wasn’t on duty.

  She asked curiously, “Did you know my aunt?”

  He shook his head. “I knew of her, of course. I’ll say one thing for the lady: she riled a lot of people, but she had a strong sense of community. She made her decisions based on what she believed was best for this town and the people in it. A lot of business people try and justify their actions by claiming what’s good for business is good for a community, but your aunt made her decisions whether the results were good for her financially or not.”

  A.J. was touched, despite herself. “Did you grow up around here?”

  “No. I grew up in Maine. I moved down here a few years ago.” His face seemed to close. In an obvious and abrupt change of subject, he said, “Did it occur to you that Batz might have broken into your aunt’s house?”

  “It went through my mind. He says no.”

  “You asked him?” For the second time that evening she seemed to have caught the detective entirely off guard.

  “Well, sure. If he’s so desperate to get his hands on that training schedule, it follows that he’d have checked the house.”

  “That’s not my point—” Flo arrived, balancing an oversized tray with their steaming plates. Oberlin waited for her to finish her juggling and jiggling routine, and as soon as she was out of earshot, said, “He had a key to the studio. Do you think it’s possible he had a key to her house?”

  A.J. flushed at the implication. “You think they had some kind of relationship?”

  “They obviously had some kind of relationship; I’m just exploring the possibilities of what that might have been.”

  “I think it’s obvious that it was instructor to student. She was old enough to be his mother.”

  His green eyes considered her thoughtfully. “Now that’s an ageist remark.”

  “I’m glad your sensitivity training is paying off, but the fact remains that my aunt was devoted to the memory of Gus Erikkson.”

  He selected a French fry. “Hey, cops see a lot. We see enough to know that ‘normal’ is in the eye of the beholder. Your aunt was, what? Sixty-something? But she looked younger, and I’m willing to bet she felt younger. She was in good shape, she was attractive. There’s no reason she couldn’t have enjoyed a healthy sexual relationship with someone.”

  No reason at all, and even less reason for A.J. to feel defensive about it. In fact, she couldn’t understand her own reaction.

  “Something wrong?” Oberlin inquired.

  “Hmm? No. Why?”

  “You’re looking at me like I just gave you a parking ticket.”

  He was right; she was scowling across at him. It occurred to A.J. that he was just doing his job. It also occurred to her that he really was pretty darned good-looking. Most definitely not her type, but she could objectively admire.

  She covered by sliding her chocolate shake over and popping the straw into the creamy contents. She took a sip. Her eyes widened. It was probably one of the best chocolate shakes she’d ever tasted.

  Oberlin asked, “What did you think about Lily Martin’s reaction to the reading of the will?”

  A.J. hastily swallowed a mouthful of chocolatey shake. “I think she was shocked and angry. She believed my aunt was leaving the studio to her, and she’s not the only one. As far as I can tell, everyone believed Diantha was leaving the studio to Lily.”

  “Had your aunt ever discussed her plans for the studio?”

  “No.”

  “What are your plans? Do you intend to keep the studio open and try to find someone else to run it for you?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I know that’s not what Diantha wanted. She wanted me and Lily to work together in harmony, but I just don’t see that happening at this point. Not to mention the fact…”

  His mouth did that quirky thing. He had a nice mouth, actually: the shape of his lips was unexpectedly sensitive. “Which fact was it that you weren’t going to mention?”

  She made a face. “Just that…while I admit I’m ready for a change in my life, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

  His gaze was a little too close for comfort.

  A.J. said at random, “My aunt left Lily a half million dollars, so clearly she could open her own studio if she wanted, but apparently she prefers to spend the money suing me for control of Sacred Balance.”

  The burger bun paused a fraction from his lips. “Half a million? That’s interesting.” He bit, chewed, swallowed. “Does she have a case?”

  A.J. ignored the question. “You didn’t know about the half million that went to Lily? Great. Can I ask whether you have any other suspects besides me?”

  “We’re looking at a number of possible scenarios.” Meeting A.J.’s accusing gaze, he said, “Okay, I admit that my initial interest was in your aunt’s main bequests. The investigation doesn’t stop there, obviously.”

  “I’d hope not, since I’m innocent!”

  “I’ll be checking with Meagher for a complete copy of the will.”

  “Michael Batz inherited a hundred grand, but it’s supposed to be used for training purposes. There was a special codicil to the will that we didn’t hear. Mr. Meagher is supposed to go over it with Batz this week.”

  “I’ll look into it,” Oberlin said noncommittally.

  “I guess he’d have to be fairly obsessed to make the Olympic team.”

  She was thinking out loud, but his glance was ironic.

  “Can I get you folks anything else?” Flo stopped by their table. The question was clearly for Oberlin, but he continued to be oblivious about what was really on the menu.

  He paid—apparently taking it for granted that he would—and they walked out to the moonlit parking lot.

  “I don’t remember this pl
ace at all,” A.J. said as he unlocked the SUV passenger door. “How long has it been around?”

  “Forever, I guess.”

  It was funny how much she didn’t remember from her summers at Stillbrook. She had truly been in her own little world. But that was true of adolescents in general, wasn’t it? They practically lived in a parallel universe where life and death issues consisted of stuff like acne breakouts and who got invited to the cool parties.

  Oberlin came round and climbed into the SUV, starting the engine.

  It had been a long day and A.J. found she had little energy for chitchat as they drove along the mostly deserted road on the way back to Deer Hollow.

  The moon, absurdly large and golden, seemed to hang low, like a giant peach over long stretches of black water. Jagged trees, oak, hickory, maple, and beech, ringed the glittering river. Here and there the lights of a lone farmhouse shone through the wall of forest.

  “Seems like a long way from anywhere, doesn’t it?” she asked vaguely.

  “It’s a long way from Manhattan, anyway,” agreed Oberlin.

  “And Maine.”

  He shot her a quick glance. “Yes.”

  Another silence fell between them. Not exactly awkward but not comfortable. This time Oberlin broke it. “Back in the sixties there was a plan to dam the Delaware. The Army Corps of Engineers forced thousands of people out of their homes before the project was finally shelved. Something good came of it: the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area. It was a major victory for environmentalists around here. But you can still find abandoned and decaying houses in the parklands.”

  “Creepy.”

  “Yeah, it is. Occasionally we find squatters living in some falling-down house that ought to be listed in the National Register of Historic Homes.”

  “But you don’t think someone like that murdered my aunt?”

  “No.” He added quietly, “And neither do you.”

  The porch light burned a cheery welcome as they pulled into the front drive of Deer Hollow. Along with the porch light, A.J. had left the lamp on in the front parlor; it created the illusion that someone waited for her. She wished it were true.

  “You want me to check inside?” From Oberlin’s brusque tone it was clear he was not making a pass.

  “I’m sure it’s okay. I live in New York. I’m not easily scared.”

  “Did you get the locks changed?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He nodded.

  “Thanks for dinner—and the update.”

  He nodded again, more curtly this time. “Check through the house and give me a wave when you’re done.”

  A.J. nodded, climbed out of the SUV, and picked her way through the muddy yard by the glare of the headlights. She walked onto the porch and unlocked the door.

  The SUV waited, rumbling quietly in the darkness.

  Monster rose from his sleeping space in the front hall, shook himself, license jingling, and padded over to greet her.

  “Well, hello, good boy, were you waiting up for me?”

  She made a quick and cursory check of the rooms, the dog trailing after as she flicked lights on and off, before trotting back to the front door.

  Returning to the window, she waved to the SUV. Oberlin blinked the headlights, backed the car, and swung around in a wide arc. His headlights briefly illuminated the sheds, swing, bird house, and Buddha statue.

  The SUV taillights vanished into the night.

  A.J. knelt down. She had always considered herself a cat person, but she had to admit, as she rubbed Monster’s silky ears, that she was getting fond of the old guy.

  The dog panted happily into her face. He seemed a little perkier after today’s outing. Maybe he was getting fond of her, too. What would happen to him when A.J. returned to Manhattan? She couldn’t take him with her. A large dog like Monster would never be happy in a small Manhattan apartment.

  She sighed. She’d have no trouble sleeping tonight. Apparently even trauma had its silver lining. Rising, she refastened the lock on the front door and did another quick tour of the house, this time double-checking the locks on the doors and windows.

  Satisfied that all was secure, she headed for the bedroom, trailed by Monster, who promptly curled up in his favorite place by the fireplace and watched her with his big brown eyes as she undressed, slipped on her favorite flannel pjs with the martini glasses, and vanished into the bathroom.

  Had she really gone to dinner without a scrap of makeup on her face? Wow. It was as if she were experiencing a reverse makeover. Maybe Elysia’s fears that she would stop shaving under her arms weren’t so far removed. Her eyebrows were certainly looking a bit wild. One good thing about this au naturel bit, she decided as she brushed her teeth, was that it made the before-bed routine a snap.

  She grinned at her fresh-scrubbed complexion, patted her face with a towel, and snapped out the bathroom light.

  The branches outside the bedroom window scratched against the window. The wind, A.J. thought, getting into bed. She switched on the bedside lamp, and paused.

  Wind? What wind?

  Monster suddenly leapt to his feet, hackles raised, growling at the window. A.J. jumped out of bed as something brushed against the side of the house.

  Fangs barred, Monster began to bark.

  Fourteen

  Frozen in place, breathing fast, heart slugging away, A.J.’s eyes were pinned on the pull-down shade where her silhouette must appear like a shadow puppet to whoever stood out there watching. She reached over and snapped out the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

  Monster continued to bark in that frenzied way. It was as unexpected as if a bearskin rug had come to life, and A.J. didn’t for one minute doubt the dog’s instincts.

  A.J. fumbled for the phone, lifting the handset. She needed to see to dial the numbers. Feeling on the old-fashioned rotary dial, she counted back from the bottom: *, #, 0, 9. Got it. She ran her fingers forward. 1,1.

  “Emergency services!” announced a male voice. He sounded unreasonably happy about it.

  “Someone’s trying to break into my house.” She gulped.

  “Can I have your name and location, ma’am?”

  A.J. got out her name and location.

  “Is the intruder in the house, ma’am? Are you able to get to a secure location?”

  “I don’t know….” She dropped the phone, ran to the bedroom door, and banged it shut, locking it with unsteady hands. When she retrieved the phone, the 911 dispatcher was calling, “Ma’am? Ma’am?”

  “I’m here,” A.J. said. “I just locked the door. I can go into the bathroom and lock that door, too.” But what if the person came through the window like someone in a horror movie? It wouldn’t take more than a minute to break down the flimsy bathroom door. A.J. didn’t like the idea of being cornered in that tiny space.

  Monster continued to growl and snarl at the window. A.J. couldn’t hear what was happening outside over the dog’s racket.

  “Stay on the line, ma’am. Help is on the way.”

  Yeah, whatever, A.J. thought. Meantime, I need a weapon. She dropped the phone again, ran to the bathroom, and grabbed her hair spray. On her way out she snatched up the poker from the bedroom fireplace.

  She could hear the 911 dispatcher squawking for her on the other end of the line.

  “I’ll be right back,” she yelled. Her instinct told her that it would be far better to keep the intruder out than try to defend herself once he was inside the house. She unlocked the bedroom door and poked her head into the hall.

  Monster brushed past her through the open door, going down the hall like a shot. A.J. stole after him.

  As she passed the kitchen she could see bushes moving through the windows. Had the wind picked up or was something making its way along the outside of the house? She hesitated, glancing around herself. The rooms were illuminated by moonlight spilling through the windows and making crouching shadows of the furniture. Slats of silver striped the wooden f
loor. She crept past the window.

  Nails scrabbling on the wooden floor, the dog lunged toward the back porch, barking furiously.

  And then—the sound of a siren floating in the distance.

  A.J. could have cried with relief. So much for the quiet country life; this place made Manhattan look like May-berry R.F.D.

  Monster gave a final bark in the tone of “And let that be a lesson to you!” He looked to A.J. as though seeking approval.

  “You were wonderful!” A.J. informed him.

  Monster wagged his tail.

  A.J. hurried to the front window and peeked out. The now-familiar SUV was parked in her front drive. Detective Oberlin stood on her porch, hand on his gun. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. There was definitely something to be said for a man with a gun.

  She jumped as a heavy hand banged on the front door. Monster started barking again.

  “It’s okay,” A.J. said. “He’s a friend.”

  Which was certainly a new way to think of Detective Oberlin.

  A.J. hurried to the front door and opened it. “He was outside my bedroom window.”

  “Close the door and lock it,” Oberlin ordered.

  She obeyed. Following his progress, she ran from window to window as he slowly worked his way around the perimeter of the house. Monster trotted after her, apparently thinking this was a new and entertaining game.

  Then Oberlin moved out of view to investigate behind the sheds and outbuildings, and A.J. could no longer see him. She waited tautly by the door until the bell rang.

  “It’s me!” Oberlin’s voice was muffled, but it was definitely him.

  A.J. opened the door. She was still shaking; she hoped he couldn’t tell.

  He took in the hair spray and the poker without comment. Maybe he thought they were part of her nightly ritual.

  “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad to see you,” she greeted.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  She stepped aside, and as Oberlin entered the house, flipped on the hall light switch. How the heck did he still manage to look crisp and ready for action at this time of night? She was only too aware of how she looked: hair sticking on end, feet bare, and her body trembling within oversized flannel jammies decorated with martini glasses and cocktail shakers.