“I’ve known Jake for a long time,” Chess said. “Leaving him was the hardest thing I ever did in my life, but I had to do it to protect him.”

A.J. stared at her earnest lovely face, and something clicked into place. Chess was playing on her sympathies, on her guilt. Chess wanted her to back off-why? A.J. had already backed off. If Chess didn’t know, it was because Jake wasn’t sharing that information, and A.J. felt immeasurably better. Whatever was between her and Jake was still between her and Jake.

“I can’t judge,” A.J. said. “I wasn’t there.”

Chess said wryly, “People say that when they’re judging you.”

A.J. stood up. “Chess, I can’t begin to understand your situation, so I’m not judging you. But I know Jake-maybe not as well as you did-but I know him well enough to know what he would think about us sitting here talking about him.”

“I thought we were talking about us,” Chess said coolly.

A.J. smiled. “I don’t think we are. Not really. And I think it would be difficult for us to be anything more than polite acquaintances at this stage.” She added, “But I appreciate the gesture. You’re very gracious.”

Chess rose, too. Her smile was terse. “Well, that’s clear enough.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” A.J. repeated.

“Nice chatting with you.”

“Good-bye,” A.J. said firmly.

She closed the door softly, carefully, after Chess walked away.

Twenty-two

Stella was still laughing heartily as they drove away from Little Peavy Farm on Tuesday morning. They had left Elysia scowling over the long list of detailed chores Stella had handed over, which included things like slop pigs.

“I can’t wait till she and Big Oscar come face-to-face.”

“Who’s Big Oscar?” A.J. asked nervously, glancing back in the rearview mirror half expecting to see a mushroom cloud over the farm.

“My four-hundred-pound, prize-winning hog.”

“Oh,” A.J. said faintly.

Stella shot her a sideways look. “Don’t worry. Elysia isn’t about to risk putting her back out slopping hogs or feeding calves. She’ll hire someone to come out and take care of the heavy lifting.” She was still chortling at some evil thought. “I knew that. But she’ll have to supervise them, and the day starts at four in the morning. That alone is worth this.”

A.J. was tempted to ask Stella her side of the story regarding A.J.’s father and the supposed affair, but the idea made her stomach churn nervously. Was it really her business?

Instead she and Stella chatted about a recent séance Stella had held and some of the things happening at Sacred Balance.

They stopped for lunch and reached Andy’s parents’ house in Byram around one o’clock to find Andy waiting for them.

A.J. and Andy kissed lightly and she looked him over with affectionate concern. Her ex-husband and former business partner was tall and lanky with chestnut hair and blue eyes. In fact they had occasionally been mistaken for brother and sister when they were married. He had been diagnosed with MS the previous summer but, although he was a little thinner than usual, he looked healthy and happy to A.J.’s critical gaze.

“How are you?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he told her. And then at her expression, he said, “I really am feeling pretty good right now, which is why we’re taking this trip to France. Everything seems to be in a holding pattern. I think happiness is good for my health.”

There was certainly truth to that.

A.J. reintroduced Stella to Andy. She could see from Andy’s carefully neutral expression that he remembered attending a séance at Stella’s house; Andy had about as much patience for the supernatural as Jake did, although he was a little more polite about it.

“Did you want a quick tour?” he asked.

A.J. had stayed at the house several times over the years with Andy and his parents, but she nodded and Andy led the way inside, showing them such refresher essentials as how to work the security system and where to find the TV remotes.

The house was comfortable and secluded, surrounded by rose bushes and tall hedges. The long trimmed lawns stretched down to the small lake in the rear. Inside, it was elegant and immaculate if slightly impersonal.

“Stella’s all set for her appointment tomorrow. For the record, I think you’re onto something with this hair salon,” Andy said as they trekked through the gleaming kitchen with its view of the lake and small pier.

“Who did you talk to?” A.J. inquired.

“I started out with some kid, but I asked for the manager and got a guy named Stewart Cabot. I said I wanted to make sure my sweet old auntie received the deluxe treatment. That she was widowed last year and was only now getting back into the swing of things after her breakdown.”

“Breakdown!” Stella looked offended at the idea that she would ever have something as feeble as a breakdown.

“You didn’t make this too complicated, did you?” A.J. said. “Stella’s got to remember her cover story.”

Andy grinned unrepentantly. “It’ll be fine. I just told them how Stella had nursed her beloved husband through his long, lingering illness-I never did say what illness, so you can pick whatever you like-and then cracked up herself. But now Auntie is ready to start her new life and I wanted her to have the full, deluxe treatment. Head-to-toe total makeover.”

Stella gave a gruff laugh. “Elysia is going to have a fit.”

“So what makes you think we’re onto something as far as The Salon goes?” A.J. inquired.

“Stewart was way too interested in all the gory details. People aren’t, you know. Even kind people aren’t that interested in all the details. Plus it was the kind of things he asked. He didn’t flat out ask about her bank balance or her net worth, but in his own diplomatic way, he pried out the information he wanted. And he was definitely interested in three points: how wealthy she is, how emotionally vulnerable, how involved is her family.

“What did you tell him?” A.J. asked.

“Very wealthy, very hard up for male companionship, and other than her self-absorbed workaholic freelance consultant daughter, I was her only relation and was going to be in France for several weeks.”

“Nice. You pretty much put her out there on a cake plate.”

“Yep.” Andy sounded pleased with himself. “I would be very surprised if they didn’t bite-and fast.”

“You think Stewie bought it?”

“Hook, line, and sinker.”

A.J. smiled and kissed him. “I knew there was some reason I wanted to keep you in my life. I just never dreamed it would be your pathological aptitude for lying.”

“For those who are called according to His purpose. As the Bard would say.”

“Funny.”

Andy grew serious then. “Be careful, A.J. Beneath all that warmth and charm-and Stewart is a very charming guy-I got the sense that this is cold, hard business. They’re not fooling around there. I think you should wear a wig anytime you go outdoors.”

“Huh?”

“In case they send someone to check out the house. You said you’d been to this salon, right? Well, they’re liable to recognize you. I’d wear a wig when you go out in case they do a little reconnaissance.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am, yeah. That’s why I cooked up the workaholic consultant daughter. Talking to Stewart I got a definite sense that he’s a guy who dots his Is and crosses his Ts.”

She thought this over as they walked out to his car.

“Does Jake know what you’re up to?” Andy asked suddenly.

She was surprised at the pain that flashed through her. “Jake and I are sort of on hiatus right now.”

“Why?” Andy was staring at her in disbelief.

“Believe it or not, it’s not my choice. In fact it’s nothing to do with me at all. It’s a long story so unless you’re staying for dinner-”