Split (Chapter-17)

By Friday morning, a thick layer of snow had blanketed the town of Nyack. There had to be at least six inches on the grass. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, Ian sang inside his head as he crossed the slushy street.

Over at Angelica’s house, the hastily formed team assembled for a breakfast meeting. Erica had the schedule of classes at Healing Light on the table next to her cup of Earl Gray tea. Angelica and Harriet were sipping mugs of coffee while Felix limbered up. Bruce joined them as well, perhaps for moral support.

Angelica fetched another mug and delivered Ian’s coffee to him. “Don’t you think eight in the morning is a little early for some of us to be coherent?” she groused.

“Felix looks like he can handle the assignment.” Ian accepted the mug. “Thanks.”

“Gretchen made cranberry orange scones so help yourselves.” Erica gestured to the platter in the center of the table.

“I’m going to accompany Erica to any class she attends from now on,” Harriet informed everyone, giving Ian a particularly harsh look. “I had no idea she might have been in danger yesterday.”

Ian understood her concern. “Request noted. Now, let’s get to the plan.”

Harriet looked like she might have more to say, but she held her tongue.

“As you all know, three women have been killed in the past week, each in a different manner. All three were students at Healing Light. We know that Gail Hunter and Ann Gottlieb attended the Sunday night class. Beth Strauss took only one single class on a Thursday morning and chose not to return.” Ian took a sip of his coffee. “What we don’t know is why they were killed. I’m going to need eyes and ears in every class possible from now until we close this case. I understand that the Coven will be sacrificing an employee to the cause, so Angelica has agreed to take over as temporary hostess whenever Felix attends class. Erica and Harriet will also take classes when possible. You will all report back to me.”

“What are we looking for, boss?” Felix peeked out from under the leg he had wrapped around his neck.

Ian winced at the sight. “I have a strong suspicion Jewel Ariel is behind the killings. But I have no proof. No physical evidence. If you can find Gail Hunter’s yoga mat, that would be a start. Or a container of loose herbal tea, preferably laced with poison. Of course, don’t touch anything you find, just report to me right away. I’ll send an officer to confiscate the item.”

Bruce raised his hand to indicate a question. “What do we know about this teacher?”

“The latest information I could dig up on Jewel herself is that her name is an alias. She had it legally changed when she came to Nyack over the summer. Before that, she was Julia Aronson. She lived in Woodstock where she taught at Sun and Moon Yoga. That studio has since closed.”

“We have some friends up there,” Harriet put in. “I can get in touch with them, see if they remember the Sun and Moon place. Woodstock is a very small town, like Nyack. If Jewel lived there for any length of time, our friends might have run into her.”

“That would be helpful.” Ian drained his coffee cup and stood. “I need everyone to keep in mind this assignment is dangerous. Three people are dead. Do not go anywhere alone with Jewel. Don’t stay in the studio after everyone else has left. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir!” Felix untwisted from his yoga pose, balanced on one leg, and saluted the detective with his opposite foot. Harriet rolled her eyes.

Angelica walked Ian to the door. “What’s your plan for today?”

“I’m driving over to Paramus Park to verify exactly when Jewel got that manicure. If I can catch her in a lie, I’ll have some leverage. I’d like to get a warrant to search her home and the studio, but I don’t think I have enough at this point.” Ian gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I gotta get back to the station, Angel. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Angelica closed the door behind him, but watched through the curtains as Ian crossed the street. She couldn’t help feeling let down. He had taken off his wedding ring, and had told Janice their marriage was over, yet he hadn’t said or done anything to let her know where she stood. That kiss goodbye was about as romantic as one you’d give your grandmother. If she had the flu.

Sure, he came around every time he needed something. And she’d jump at the chance to read his cards, cook him breakfast, or do whatever he wanted. But his job came first. And always would.

This was the price she’d have to pay for falling in love with a detective. The question was: was she willing to keep paying it? Or was the cost too high?

When he arrived at the station, the autopsy report on Ann Gottlieb was waiting on Ian's desk. He skimmed through it, noting the cause of death was a broken neck sustained in the fall down the staircase. A small contusion on the side of her head matched the round spot of blood on the brass bowl. The ME ascertained she had been hit with the bowl prior to her fall as slight bruising and bleeding had begun shortly before death.

Ian made a note to interview Ann’s husband Barry a second time. Ann’s killer had arrived at her door at the precise moment she was about to spill the beans. Ian guessed the killer must have been aware that Ann had damning information, something that would point a finger at the guilty party. Maybe Barry knew more than he let on. Ann could have seen or heard something that Sunday night as she left the yoga studio. According to Trixie Nash, Ann had been one of the last students lingering behind. Had she witnessed the attack on Gail Hunter, but hesitated to come forward? If she had feared for her own life, it was with good reason.

But first on his agenda was a trip to Paramus Park mall. He had only been there once before, with Janice, back when they were still dating. Before her father had jabbed a proverbial shotgun into Ian’s back and prodded him to the courthouse to make things official. To make an "honest" woman out of Janice.

What a joke. There had never been an honest bone in the woman’s body. And lately, he’d been attracted to Jewel: a serial killer. Wow. His taste in women left a hell of a lot to be desired.

Except for Angelica.

He had noticed the look in her eyes when he told her his plans for the day and neglected to invite her along. What would it hurt to take her with him to the mall? She’d enjoy the trip and he’d enjoy her company.

Angelica of course insisted on packing snacks for the drive to Paramus. Ian waited impatiently while she stuffed a couple of muffins into a bag and filled two travel mugs with fresh coffee. But halfway there, he discovered he was starving.

“Oops, I already ate both muffins.” She turned big, innocent eyes on him, brushing crumbs from her jacket. “Sorry.”

“You’re kidding!” He smacked the steering wheel. "Damn it!"

“Of course, I’m kidding. You know I live to feed you.” She handed him the other muffin with a grin.

“Thanks,” he mumbled around a mouthful, embarrassed about his outburst. In his own defense, he was really hungry. “What kind is this?”

“Banana split. Yummy, right?”

“Mmm.”

After pulling into the vast mall parking lot, they drove in circles for another twenty minutes before finding a parking spot. Christmas shoppers were arriving en masse for the ten o’clock opening time. Some were already lined up outside the entrance, stamping their cold feet, puffs of steamy breath hovering around their faces.

Ian’s mood took a nosedive as he exited the car. His first footfall landed in a deep puddle of snow, road salt, and slush. The icy mixture sloshed over his ankle and into his shoe. The same leather shoe he’d recently spent hours drying with Janice’s blow dryer. He spat out a string of curses and stormed toward the mall’s entrance. Angelica stifled a giggle as she hurried to catch up.

Panda Paws, the nail salon, was staffed by a dozen Asian beauticians. Korean chatter filled the cramped space, the nail technicians yelling at each other as they worked. But when Ian approached the front desk, every mouth in the place clamped shut.

The manicurists flashed their eyes at each other to indicate who should wait on this unusual customer. An older woman finally admonished her client not to move as she rose from her seat.

“Hello, and what can I do for you?” She eyed the detective from under her false eyelashes. “You want a manicure? Ha ha. Do you get this joke? MAN-icure?”

The woman turned to the room and raised her eyebrows. The rest of the women tittered in response.

“Funny.” Ian looked over his shoulder at Angelica who couldn’t resist a good pun. She was smiling and gave him two thumbs up. “But no, I just need to speak with Miss Kim. Is she working today?”

“You also very funny man. You tell good one.” She bared a set of small, white teeth and nodded.

Ian became serious. “I’m not making a joke. I really need to speak with Kim.”

“I think you confuse. We all Kim.” She gestured with a soft, pudgy hand that swept around the entire salon.

“Everyone here is Kim?” Ian asked, positive he must have misunderstood.

“Yes. My name Grace Kim. That one Ruth Kim. Over there Anna Kim. And in back Jennifer Kim. So which Kim you want?”

“I want whichever Kim gave a snowflake manicure to Jewel Ariel this week.”

The woman turned her back on the detective and barked in rapid Korean. Ruth Kim raised her hand, tentatively. “That your Kim right there.” She pointed an accusing finger at the younger woman.

Ian scooched between the nail stations with their tiny pots of polish and sets of emery boards. Angelica took a seat on a bench outside the salon where the smell of freshly baked Mrs. Field’s chocolate chip cookies permeated the air.

Ruth Kim looked none too happy about being singled out. Ian showed her his badge and pulled up a chair next to the customer. He thought if he sat down he might appear less threatening.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your work, but I have a few questions. Is Jewel Ariel a regular customer here?”

Ruth Kim shrugged her shoulders, keeping her eyes on her work.

He tried again. “When did you paint the snowflakes for her?”

“Snowflakes on Wednesday morning,” Ruth spoke with confidence, all the while continuing to paint candy cane stripes across her customer’s fingernails.

“What time Wednesday morning?” Ian tapped his wrist to help her understand.

“Ten o’clock Wednesday morning.” Ruth finished the stripes on one hand and switched to the other.

“You’re sure? Positive?” Ian couldn’t think of any other words to describe this state.

“Yes. Positive.” Ruth pointed to her actual watch. “Jewel always first customer of day. She like to be first.”

Ian thought this sounded right. “Thanks for your help, Ruth.”

He waved to all the Kims as he left the salon.

“Bye-bye,” Grace Kim called out. The rest of the Kims chimed in. “Bye-bye, detective!”

“Sounds like you made quite an impression,” Angelica said, rising from the bench.

“Yup,” Ian agreed. “Women love me.”

“You’ve had your wedding ring off for one day and you’re already collecting a harem.”

“I’m not sure ‘harem’ is the correct term. Isn’t that more of a Middle Eastern concept?” He grinned at her. “Hey, are those cookies in that bag?”

“What bag?” Angelica hid the paper sack inside her jacket and skipped away from him.

In the car, she handed over a large, warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie wrapped in a napkin.

He filled her in as he chewed. “Looks like Jewel was telling the truth about the manicure. She was there at ten o’clock on Wednesday morning. And according to the autopsy, Ann Gottlieb was killed between nine and eleven. I was on the phone with her at nine, so we know she didn't die any earlier. Once you factor in the drive, with the tolls, I don’t think there’s any way Jewel could have done it.”

“You seemed pretty sure she killed Gail Hunter, though. And Beth Strauss. Is it possible she killed two out of three?” Angelica finished her last bite of cookie and brushed the crumbs off her lap.

“I guess so.” Ian pondered the problem. “But I’m making a hell of a lot of assumptions. The mat I saw in Jewel’s car might not have been Gail’s. And no one saw Jewel deliver anything but a brass bowl to Beth. Shit, Angel. Have I got the whole thing wrong?”

“If we knew why these women were killed, that might lead us to who, right?”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he muttered.

“Okay, what are the typical motives for murder?” She turned toward him in her seat.

“Angel, I know you’re trying to help, but could you just be quiet and let me think right now.” Ian kept his eyes on the road so he wouldn’t have to see the expression on her face. He knew he was being a jerk, but this case was his toughest yet. He had absolutely no idea why these women had been killed.

But he did know the most common motives for murder.