Split (Chapter-21)

“I changed my mind,” Angelica told her sister. “I want to come to yoga with you guys.”

She wasn’t all that interested in the lotus pose or the new guru in town, but she did want to catch Agent Robert Gary in action. Perhaps her motives weren’t exactly pure of heart, but Ian deserved a hefty kick in the ass after the way he’d been treating her.

And if she were completely honest, she’d have to admit the FBI agent was a handsome devil. He was originally from Texas and had some leftover twang to his speech. Slightly taller than Ian, he carried more muscle on his frame. Also ten years older, and an ex-Marine, he exuded an easy charm and plenty of confidence.

After changing into leggings and a fitted tee shirt, Angelica layered on a hoody, an oversized sweater, and her motorcycle boots. “You guys ready?” she called as she clomped down the stairs.

Harriet still looked grouchy. “I guess. Let's do this if we must.” She kept a protective hand on Erica’s back as they proceeded out the door.

Angelica felt a prickle of jealousy as the three of them walked down Broadway toward Healing Light Yoga. Harriet guarded her sister like a mama bear, ready to maul anyone who dared to interfere with her loved one. Didn’t Angelica deserve this kind of love and commitment? Where was her protector? Her knight in shining armor?

The sun was a cold spotlight beaming down on them from above the Hudson as they crossed Main Street. Its light provided no warmth, just a penetrating glare reflecting off the snow-covered surfaces. Angelica jammed her fists deep into her pockets and shivered. It wasn’t just the temperature that made her shudder.

The plan Ian had outlined the night before, inside the warm, cozy café, was beginning to look riskier in the bright light of day. Their perp had already attacked three yoga students. All had ended up dead. Not one survivor. What made them think they could pull this off? And why did poor Erica need to be dangled out there, like a wounded worm on a hook?

But as soon as she asked herself this question, Angelica knew the reason. It was exactly because she was wounded because she was truly hurting inside, no one would suspect she was bait. Anyone looking into her sister’s eyes could see real suffering there. She was a perfect choice.

“You can still back out,” she reminded Erica as they neared the bike shop. “You can pull the plug on this at any point.”

“I know.” Erica linked her arm through her sister’s. “Have a little faith in me. Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m not strong.”

Angelica gave her a bittersweet smile, full of admiration and sadness. “Damn straight.” She squeezed Erica’s arm.

“Damn queer!” Felix snuck up behind them, inserting his two cents.

He held his hand up for a high five from Harry. She smacked his palm harder than necessary, knocking him off the sidewalk and into the slushy gutter.

“Hey! Watch the footwear!” Felix hopped back up onto the curb and shook the slush off his purple suede boots.

The group paused in front of the bike shop. Inside this building, a killer awaited them.

The white FBI van with Peterman’s Plumbing stenciled on a side panel was parked around the corner on Third Street, the front hood visible from the entrance to the yoga studio. The front seat was empty. Angelica suspected the agent, the detective, and the technical crew must be squeezed like sardines into the back of the van.

She leaned her head onto Erica’s shoulder. “Howdy, boys,” she whispered into her sister’s chest.

“Don’t.” Erica pushed her away. “You’re going to blow our cover.”

Felix held the outside door open as the entourage entered. Everyone followed Erica up the staircase and into the warm studio.

Jewel Ariel, seated at the front desk, welcomed students as they entered. A curtain of black hair hid the corners of her cool, removed smile. Angelica took an involuntary step backward. Although she had met the instructor once before, Jewel’s physical perfection was intimidating. Her beauty was stunning, an assault on the senses.

Angelica was reminded of The Stepford Wives, a movie she had seen recently on late-night television. She had the strange feeling that if she tore the flesh off Jewel’s face, she’d discover a metal plate beneath, with blinking lights and multi-colored wires. Something about her remote smile made Angelica want to try this.

Instead, she forced her own face into a friendly grimace. “I’d like to try a class this morning.”

“Your first class is free.” Jewel slid a flyer across the counter. “You can hang your coat right there.” She pointed to the rack. “And please remove your shoes before entering the studio space. We have a no-shoes policy.”

As Angelica moved aside, Erica stepped up to the desk. Speaking louder than normal, she requested the one-on-one healing session mentioned on the flyer, asking Jewel if this could be scheduled immediately after the morning class. Angelica noted the enthusiasm in Jewel’s response. She’d be more than happy to work with Erica after class. And why not, at seventy-five dollars per hour?

The plan was in place.

Angelica took a spot in the back row of the yoga class, along with Harry, Felix, and Erica. Other students trickled in. A few faces were familiar, like Zoe and Laureen, from lunch at the Coven. Others she had seen around Nyack but didn’t know by name. Luckily Janice’s mother, Bunny, didn’t show. Angelica didn't have the energy to face that woman.

Jewel entered the studio like a queen preparing to address her subjects. She pressed her palms together between her breasts and bowed, saying, “Please sit comfortably. Easy crossed-legged pose or lotus pose.” She went on to instruct the class to arrange their legs like a pretzel.

Angelica watched the other students. Very few seemed to possess the natural abilities of Felix. Most looked distinctly uncomfortable. She felt slightly better.

The class progressed from sitting and breathing to a series of poses with the names of barnyard animals. Cow’s head, chicken’s foot, donkey’s ass. Or something along those lines. Meanwhile, Jewel strolled between their mats, whispering suggestions. When she came to Angelica, she bent down close and told her that yoga was not a competition.

Angelica nodded, sagely. As the instructor moved away, she considered sticking out a foot to trip her. If she hadn’t been on a secret mission, immaturity might have gotten the better of her.

During the grueling five minutes in downward-facing dog, Angelica watched beads of sweat drip off her forehead and onto the communal mat she had borrowed. Harriet, next to her, was making a puddle twice the size on her own mat. Erica had opted instead for relaxing in a child’s pose. Angelica was relieved to see her sister had yet to break a sweat.

By the time corpse pose finally arrived, Angelica was feeling appropriately dead. She hadn’t expected the class to be such a workout. She hoped she’d have some stamina left to rescue Erica if her actual death became imminent.

Jewel instructed the class to lie on their backs with palms facing the ceiling. She drifted around the room, speaking slowly and quietly, guiding them deeper and deeper into a place of peace and calm.

When Angelica opened her eyes, Harriet was looming over her, poking her in the ribs with a big toe. “Time to pack up, sleepyhead.”

Angelica groaned and rolled over. She must have missed a few important cues, as all the other students were putting on their shoes and coats. Erica had already dragged her mat to the front of the room in preparation for her private session. “Where’s Jewel?” she whispered to Harry.

“She stepped out. Probably had to take a piss.”

“Don’t say the code word!” Angelica warned.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot.”

Moving slowly on purpose, Angelica rolled and stashed her sweaty mat on a shelf. The last few students buttoned and zipped up, and headed out into the cold. When the studio was empty—aside from Erica, still in corpse pose on her mat—they tiptoed to the front desk and crouched behind it. No one would be able to see them from the studio looking out. However, if the killer came up the front staircase, Harry and Angelica were dead meat.

Jewel must have changed the soundtrack of the music playing. The ringing of cathedral bells filled the air, reverberating through the floorboards.

“Probably using sound to cleanse Erica’s chakras,” Angelica whispered knowingly.

Harry put an index finger to her lips.

The decibel level drowned out any other sound that might have escaped from the studio. This created a problem. The two hidden spies had absolutely no clue what was going on in there.

And there was no way to find out without exposing themselves and putting Erica in danger.