Read Online Dial Om for Murder by Diana Killian - Free Book Online Page A

studied the digital images of her mother. She was mildly surprised to realize that she missed her. During the past few months they had grown close for the first time in A.J.’s life. The vacation seemed to be doing Elysia good. She looked radiant in a variety of summery ensembles that showed off her new golden tan.
    Who had taken all these photos of her?
    A.J. thoughtfully considered the image of a very handsome, very tall, very young Egyptian man beaming down on Elysia in two of the photographs. Hmmmmm .
    A.J. sincerely hoped her mother would not be bringing home a new daddy for her—especially not a daddy young enough to be her brother.
    There was no message with the photos, but then Elysia had never been one for letter-writing.
    A.J. sipped her tea and started on the resumes she hadn’t finished checking Saturday—it seemed a very long time ago now.
    She found it astonishing the things job candidates put into their resumes. One young man included his complete medical history. One young woman submitted a resume on colored paper with animal stickers in each corner.
    A.J. sighed and kept reading. After all, she wasn’t looking for nuclear physicists, just a conscientious, reliable, reasonably intelligent person to answer phones and open mail.
    Outside her office she could hear the other instructors arriving—shortly followed by the first of the day’s students.
    “Morning, A.J.!” Simon Crider, who taught the sunrise yoga course, poked his head in. Simon was a very trim, very fit sixty-something. Handsome and pleasant, he apparently provided the incentive to drag over twenty women out of bed at the crack of dawn, for his classes were always packed. “I heard about Nicole,” he said. “Unbelievable. Have the police said whether they’re closing in on a suspect?”
    “Not that I’ve heard.”
    They chatted briefly. Simon wandered away, and Denise Farber, their Pilates instructor, looked in. “A.J., you poor thing! How are you holding up?”
    “Good. How was your weekend?”
    “A lot quieter than yours. Any word on who killed Nicole?”
    “I haven’t heard anything.”
    “What does Jake say?”
    A.J. made a face. “Jake makes the Sphinx look chatty.”
    Denise chuckled, they visited for a bit, and she went on to her office.
    A.J. heard Lily walk by, unlock her office, and go inside.
    More students arrived. A.J. could hear cheerful voices in the front lobby. Another day at Sacred Balance was beginning. She looked at the photograph of her aunt and smiled.
    Four minutes before her Yoga for Tweens course was due to begin, Suze rushed into A.J.’s office. “ Oh my gosh , A.J.! I can’t believe Nicole is dead. What does Jake say?”
    A.J. looked up from a magazine article on using yoga for pain relief in such hard-to-treat conditions as carpal tunnel, back pain, and even asthma. If only it cured tardiness. She said, “ They’re working on it.”
    “No way!”
    “Seriously, Suze, he doesn’t discuss his cases with me.”
    Suze’s blue eyes went saucer wide with disbelief. “After you cracked his last homicide for him?”
    “I didn’t crack his last homicide,” A.J. objected. She really wished people would stop saying that. “I just had insider’s knowledge. The last thing I would ever want would be to be involved in another murder investigation.”
    “But you already are,” Suze said cheerfully. “You found the body. You took pictures of the murder weapon before it melted. Didn’t you see today’s paper? They referred to you as our local Miss Marple.”
    A.J. stared at her, aghast. “ Tell me you’re kidding. They didn’t. Really. They didn’t, did they?”
    “Sure they did! Well, you did find the body. What’s wrong with being compared to Miss Marple? I think it’s kind of cool.”
    “Sure! Who wouldn’t want to be compared to a ninety-year-old busybody with support hose and sensible shoes?”
    Suze giggled. “Hey, she always gets her man!” Then she checked her watch, exclaimed at