A Death at the Yoga Café Read online

  She made her mother a cup of English Breakfast, being sure to add two and a half sugars and to stir counterclockwise. Even so, Darla pulled a face as she tasted it.

  “How can you hope to run a café, Keeley, when you still can’t make tea properly?” She gave another of those tinkly little laughs. Keeley gritted her teeth.

  “Would you like me to make you another?” she asked, trying to imagine her mother as a difficult customer, rather than the bane of her life.

  “No, it will do,” Darla said, with pointed distaste, before sitting back on the sofa and kicking off her pumps, crossing her slender legs.

  “So, what shall we do tonight? There must be somewhere nice to go for dinner. I heard Belfrey had improved since we left; God knows it needed to.”

  Keeley felt her heart sink, remembering she had plans. Ben.

  “I’m already going out tonight.”

  “Oh? On my first night here?”

  “Mum, I didn’t know you were coming today,” Keeley said, praying that for once, her mother would be reasonable.

  “Well, surely I can accompany you.” A demand, rather than a request.

  “I’m going round Ben’s. For dinner. A romantic dinner, for two,” she clarified, before Darla could possibly suggest coming along. The thought of introducing Ben and Darla made her apprehensive; although she couldn’t think of anything about Ben for her mother to complain about, she knew well that Darla could always find something.

  “How nice. Ben Taylor, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Keeley nodded, feeling a spark of hope. When Keeley had been young, everyone in Belfrey had known everyone else, and Ben’s father, a retired army colonel, had been the sort of person whom Darla might actually approve.

  “Well, do try and hold on to this one, won’t you, dear?” Darla said, before taking a decor magazine from her designer handbag and settling down to read it, dismissing Keeley. Keeley swallowed down her resentment and went over to the small bedroom space, unrolling the yoga mat next to her bed. As she went through a few Sun Salutations, a flowing series of movements designed to warm the body and energize all the muscles, it didn’t escape her notice that her movements were more vigorous than usual, driven by the uncomfortable feelings provoked by her mother. She tried to align herself with the rhythm of her breath and her movements, but the usual peace that accompanied even a short practice eluded her. No matter how she tried to lose herself in the moment, she was acutely aware of her mother’s presence in the room just a few feet away, fancying she could almost feel Darla’s ongoing disapproval of her daughter emanating from her, a tangible presence in itself.

  Keeley’s yoga practice was a constant in her day. She aimed for at least twenty minutes every morning, again after work, and a short meditation and breathing practice before bed. If she had time, she would do an hour in the morning, and of course she taught classes too, currently doing three hours a week at the center and a few one-to-one sessions in her apartment. It had become part of her daily life, a complete mind, body, and spirit system that kept her healthy and balanced, and even, at times, at complete peace with herself and her surroundings. For Keeley, who had been a shy, awkward teenager constantly questioning her place in the world, it was nothing short of a transformation.

  Yet, just a few choice words from her mother and she felt like that chubby teenager all over again.

  She finished her practice with a short Savasana, a lying-down pose that looked rather like one was dead, and usually brought deep relaxation, but a pointed cough from Darla had Keeley cutting her time on the mat short.

  “It all looks rather odd; I don’t think I’ll try it after all,” Darla said, shaking her head at her daughter before turning her attention back to her magazine, something glossy about homes and gardens. Keeley didn’t reply; instead she went for a quick shower, trying to imagine as she did so that the water was washing away her resentments. Feeling somewhat calmer she got dressed, choosing a knee-length flowered dress she knew Ben loved and leaving her hair to dry naturally into loose waves. She tried to avoid looking at her mother, who put her magazine down every so often to watch her, sometimes letting out a soft sigh, no doubt of disappointment.

  “There’s some stew left in the fridge you can heat up,” she told her mother as she shrugged on a denim summer jacket. Darla smiled thinly.

  “I do think it’s rather self-absorbed of you to insist on going out tonight, but if you must, you must. Do say hello to Ben for me, dear.”

  “I will,” said Keeley, then, feeling guilty despite herself, “I’ll come back earlier, okay? I’ll just stay for dinner.” She cringed at the petulant tone in her own voice. She had been so looking forward to some time with Ben tonight, and of course he would be expecting her to stay over, but Darla’s surprise visit had scuppered those plans. Still, that wasn’t her mother’s fault. Feeling a pang of guilt, though she wasn’t sure why, she leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek before turning to leave.

  “You look nice,” Darla said. Keeley looked back over her shoulder, about to utter a surprised but touched “thank you,” when her mother continued, “Although I’m not sure you should be wearing a skirt that short. You’ve still got a touch of cellulite, I see.”

  The smile froze on Keeley’s face and, murmuring a good-bye, she hurried down the stairs, feeling her cheeks flame. Why, she asked herself, her eyes stinging with sudden tears, could her mother not just be nice, for once?

  The walk to Ben’s just a few streets away calmed her. Belfrey really was beautiful in the dusk, with its cobbled High Street and picturesque stone cottages, some with gables that made her think of gingerbread houses, and the rolling hills all around, in whichever direction one cared to look. A summer mist came down from those hills, adding a pleasant coolness to the air, brushing her fevered cheeks like a caress. She slowed her steps and breathed in the evening air, feeling the calm that had been so elusive to her in the apartment settle over her. As she neared Ben’s she felt the usual fizz of excitement low in her tummy.

  It had been a few months now since they had become a couple, but even so the thought of him made her feel a little giddy. There was something strong, yet inherently tender, about Ben Taylor that had swept her off her feet years ago at school and had never really let her get back up again. When she had bumped into him in less than favorable circumstances, on her first day back in Belfrey last April, she had tried hard to dismiss him as another arrogant jerk. Another Brett. Especially when he had treated her with the suspicion befitting a prime suspect in a murder case.

  Now, though, she couldn’t imagine being without him.

  Ben answered the door within a few seconds of her knocking, and she drank in the sight of him for a few delicious moments before he pulled her into his arms for a kiss. His dark hair was due a cut, and looked becomingly tousled on top, and he was dressed, as he usually was when he was off duty, in a simple white tee and blue jeans. She felt a wide smile break over her face.

  “You, Keeley Carpenter, look good enough to eat,” he said as he nuzzled her hair, pushing the door shut behind her.

  “Ditto,” she murmured, brushing his lips with hers. He kissed her back, harder, and for a few moments she forgot all about her mother, in fact about anything except the feel and taste and smell of him. By the time he let her go, they were both grinning at each other.

  “I’ve bought some of those Egyptian cotton sheets you keep going on about,” he said, frowning as Keeley looked crestfallen. “What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t stay tonight,” she said with a sigh, “my mother arrived this evening.”

  “Already,” Ben frowned, ushering her into the dining room. “Wasn’t it supposed to be next week?”

  “She decided to surprise me,” Keeley said drily. Ben raised an eyebrow at her, looking half amused, half concerned.

  “And are you okay?”

  “I am now that I’m here,” she said, kissing him again before taking off her jacket and sitting at the table, which Be
n had already set. “What are we eating?”

  “Takeaway pizza,” Ben said, making her laugh. “I didn’t get back from the station till late and, well, you know cooking isn’t my favorite thing.”

  Keeley shook her head at him, giggling, as he pushed a takeaway leaflet toward her.

  “Veggie pizza it is then.”

  As Ben poured her a glass of wine he asked her about her day, carefully avoiding the subject of her mother. “It has to be more interesting than mine; I spent most of it doing paperwork.”

  With a start Keeley realized that in the aftermath of her mother’s appearance she had all but forgotten the events of the day. She told Ben about Suzy and Christian and agreeing to take part in the art festival, and then about Raquel and Gerald’s rather public argument, feeling a little guilty for gossiping, but knowing that it would be all around Belfrey by morning in any case.

  Ben passed her wine to her and sat down, stroking her forearm almost unconsciously. She smiled at him and lifted her feet into his lap, feeling any final cares of the day draining away from her at his touch.

  “I’m sure they’ll sort it out by morning,” Ben said, diplomatically, then frowned. “So Duane was hanging around the café again?”

  “Only to moan about Raquel.” She wondered if Ben was still a little jealous of the fact that she had been out on an ill-fated date with the gym instructor, but his face was now carefully blank. She gave a wry smile as she took a sip of her wine. She wasn’t immune to the odd twinge of jealousy either, particularly around the fact that Ben and Raquel had dated, albeit back in their college years. “Maybe they’ll get back together after he rushed out to comfort her.”

  “Doubtful; he hasn’t got nearly enough money to keep Raquel in the style she’s accustomed to. Although she might use him for a bit of comfort if Gerald doesn’t take her back. I wonder what they were arguing about? It must have been serious for him to call her a gold digger; it’s not like Gerald to be that nasty.”

  Keeley thought about that. She wasn’t so convinced that the mayor’s jovial, blustering demeanor didn’t hide a meaner side. Earlier in the year she had suspected him in the murder of Terry Smith, and he had become quite nasty when she had confronted him about it. Not as nasty as his ancient housekeeper Edna, however, who was a force to be reckoned with. Keeley thought even Darla was scared of her.

  “Enough about them anyway.” Ben leaned in for another kiss, which Keeley gave him gladly. Later, in the lazy afterglow of intimacy, they lay upstairs on the bed, eating a vegetarian pizza that Keeley privately thought wasn’t a patch on her own recipe, and talking, finally, about Darla.

  “She won’t stay long,” Ben predicted, “and if she gets to be too much you can stay here, Keeley. She’s a grown woman, she doesn’t need babysitting.”

  “I know, but I can’t just leave her to fend for herself.”

  “It’s not as though she doesn’t know her way around Belfrey,” Ben pointed out. “She lived here for years with your father. It hasn’t changed that much. I’m just saying, if you need a break, you can come here; I like having you here. In fact, I’ll get you a key.” He said the last matter-of-factly, as though it were nothing more than a perfectly practical suggestion, but as Keeley nestled into the crook of his arm she wondered if it heralded a new phase in their relationship. They hadn’t yet discussed the possibility of moving in together, although she had found herself staying at Ben’s more and more, if only because it was a deal more comfortable than her cramped apartment.

  “I’d like that,” she said, almost formally. Ben kissed her lightly on the head.

  “That’s settled then, I’ll get you one cut tomorrow.”

  They lay in comfortable silence for a while, until Keeley looked at the clock and realized it was ten o’clock and dark outside. She sat up, sighing.

  “I had better go, I told Mum I wouldn’t be back too late,” she said, feeling like an errant schoolgirl who had stayed out past her curfew. Ben looked disappointed, but nodded.

  “I’ll pop in the café and see you tomorrow. Perhaps I could take you and your mum out for dinner tomorrow night? Let her get to know me.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Keeley said, kissing him on the end of his nose, then wincing as she thought about how the night was likely to go. “I’m sure she’ll love you, which no doubt means she’ll spend most of the evening wondering loudly how I managed to snare you.”

  Ben laughed and tumbled her back onto the bed.

  “You snared me, Keeley Carpenter,” he said, nuzzling into the ticklish spot between her neck and collarbone and making her giggle, “because you are funny, sexy, caring, and the best maker of fruit sorbet I’ve ever met.”

  “Oh, you just love me for my sorbet,” Keeley teased. Ben pulled away then, looking down at her with a serious expression in his green eyes.

  “I love you because you’re you,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her again, slowly this time. Keeley wrapped her arms around him, entwining her hands in his hair, and was just about to lose herself in him again when the shrill sound of his phone ringing startled them both. Swearing, Ben sat up and reached for his phone, answering it with a curt “DC Taylor.”

  Then his face changed and his body went very, very still and Keeley sat up, watching him, knowing at once that it was something bad.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I’m dressed,” Ben said, closing his phone and looking at Keeley with a grim expression, one that Keeley recognized.

  “Someone’s dead, aren’t they?” she asked, feeling a chill go through her.

  “Yes. In fact, it looks as though Gerald and Raquel won’t be getting back together after all; the mayor has just been found murdered in his sitting room.”

  SAVASANA

  Otherwise known as Corpse Pose. A relaxing, restoring pose usually used at the end of yoga practice or any time one needs a break from a hectic day.

  Method

  • Lie down on your back in a warm, well-ventilated room. Close your eyes and lie with your legs a little apart and your arms resting away from your body, palms facing up.

  • Allow your fingers to curl naturally.

  • Begin to tense all the muscles in your body, from your feet all the way up to your head, including your jaw, buttocks, and fists. Hold your whole body tensed in this way for a few seconds, clenching everything as tight as you can.

  • Release all of your muscles at once on an exhale. Stay lying on your back, breathing deeply through your nose, for at least five minutes. Try not to get distracted by your thoughts, but just listen to the rhythm of your breath and allow your body to relax. Imagine your body is sinking into the floor beneath you and that you are safe and protected.

  • When you are ready, open your eyes and bring your knees into your chest, clasping them as if giving yourself a hug. Roll onto your side and get up slowly.

  Benefits

  A great stress reliever. Relaxes the central nervous system. Promotes whole body relaxation. May help with insomnia and headaches.

  Contraindications

  If you have lower back problems, consult your doctor before attempting this pose. A cushion or bolster under the lower back region may help. If more than three months pregnant, lie on your side in the fetal position instead. If you are worried about falling asleep, set a timer to wake you with a gentle sound.

  Chapter Three

  Keeley woke up wondering why her neck was so stiff and her bed suddenly so uncomfortable before a soft snore from her mother reminded her that she was, in fact, sleeping on the sofa. She sat up, rubbing her neck and stretching, and then jumped to her feet as she remembered the events of last night. Walking quietly into the kitchenette so as not to disturb her mother, she started to brew a pot of lemon tea, staring out of the window at her backyard without taking in the view.

  Gerald Buxby, mayor of Belfrey, Matlock, and Ripley, was dead. Murdered. Ben hadn’t been able to tell her an awful lot; he had dropped her back at the café then hurried off, p
honing briefly an hour later only to tell her that Gerald had been stabbed—information he warned her to keep to herself—and that he might need a statement from her concerning the mayor’s street argument with Raquel. Keeley wondered if Raquel would be the prime suspect; after all, partners were usually the first ones to warrant suspicion. There had been a time when Keeley had thought Raquel most definitely capable of murder, but now she wasn’t so sure.

  She continued to muse over the fate of poor Gerald as she finished her tea, had her morning shower, and rolled out her yoga mat, again careful not to wake Darla, who was flat on her back, a silk eye mask covering most of her face.

  Taking a few deep breaths, Keeley tried to clear her mind as she launched into a few Sun Salutations and standing postures, but images of Gerald and his angry face the day before found their way into her mind unbidden. When her unruly thoughts had her wobbling in one-legged Tree Pose, she gave up on the more strenuous postures and got down on the mat for a few forward bends and seated twists, leaning into the stretch and imagining her concerns flowing out of her, leaving her clearheaded for the coming day and whatever it might bring.

  “You look like a pretzel.” Darla’s voice was strident in the small apartment.

  “It’s good for the digestion,” Keeley murmured, closing her eyes.

  “Breakfast would be even better,” Darla snapped, getting to her feet and going to the kitchen where she began to noisily open doors and bang utensils. “Don’t you have any coffee?”

  “There’s lemon tea in the pot,” Keeley said, arching her back into Cobra Pose and trying to breathe in patience and tolerance.

  “I’m not drinking that. It smells like washing-up liquid. Honestly, Keeley, you know I drink coffee in the morning.”

  “Mum, I haven’t lived with you for eight years,” Keeley pointed out. She gave up on her practice, finishing by folding into Child’s Pose for a few moments and then standing up, feeling self-conscious with her mother’s eyes on her. Only when she was rolling her yoga mat and Darla was tentatively sipping a cup of lemon tea did she remember that her mother would have known Gerald. In fact, the mayor had always spoken highly of her parents.