Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“They even won an award recently for the surgical forums they hold for trainee doctors in Fiji—that’s where they emigrated from. I think maybe they even offer a scholarship for one student a year from Fiji to train in New Zealand.”
Diya had been born in the tropical island nation, as had Bobby, though neither carried any trace of their parents’ unique accent.
“You didn’t mention your brother-in-law,” Ackerson prompted.
I pressed my lips together.
“No point protecting anyone now, Tavish. You need to tell me what you know.”
“Fuck.” I shoved a hand through my hair.
Chapter 10
Private notes: Detective Callum Baxter (LAPD)
Date: Dec 5
Time: 14:15
Virna Musgrave’s attorney is in the process of gathering details about the current value of her estate but was able to confirm a ballpark figure of “around fifteen to twenty million” as her net worth.
No legal paperwork exists for the alleged quarter-of-a-million-dollar transfer to Tavish Advani, and we haven’t yet gained access to Virna’s financial records. Interesting thing is that Advani isn’t exactly doing it hard, either, not from what we can see on the surface. We’ll need to dig deeper.
Time: 20:18
Forensic mechanic refuses to speculate on anything to do with the Musgrave vehicle, but he did admit that he’s already spotted signs of tampering.
Case is now a homicide in my books. Perez agrees.
Chapter 11
“Diya mentioned that her brother fired some employees recently,” I told Ackerson. “Bobby owns and runs that big electronics store in the center of town, has several more branches around the country.”
“Elektrik Ninja?”
“Yes. I don’t know the reason for the firings, but apparently the people he fired weren’t happy about it.” I folded my arms, suddenly cold. “They’re the only ones I can think of who might’ve had reason to be angry with any of the family. But it still doesn’t make sense that they’d come for all of them.”
Unless, of course, the Prasads had had a stake in their son’s company. Perhaps they’d even been silent investors. Given the family’s closeness, that would make sense.
“We’ll check that out. People have done worse things when driven by anger.”
My nape prickled, and I wondered if I was imagining the glint in her eye. It had to be my paranoia—no way she could’ve dug up any real information on me so fast. “So the fire was set on purpose?” I asked.
“That’s what it’s looking like.”
“And the explosion? Was that on purpose, too?”
“Fire investigator will work on finding an answer to that question, but it can be complicated—lot of things can set off an explosion.” Taking out her phone even though it hadn’t made a sound, she glanced at it. “One more question,” she said after putting it back in her pocket. “This might be me buying into the stereotype, but a lot of doctors end up with doctor kids. Why not here?”
I gave a hollow laugh. “I actually asked Diya that, because you’re right—especially in South Asian immigrant families. If not a doctor, then at least a lawyer or an engineer.” My family had been different, only one son set up for success—and in a field most immigrant families would never countenance.
But then, the Advani family had never toed any line when it came to tradition. Sometimes I’d wondered if that was why I felt so rootless, so divorced from life. Then I’d met Diya and understood that I’d been searching for her. She was my roots, was the solid earth under my feet.
“Diya told me that Bobby was determined to make his own way—and he was really good at mechanical-type things from childhood. She said there was tension when he was younger, but it evaporated once his parents saw how good he was at what he’d chosen.”
As for me, I’m the baby of the family. No one ever pushed me too hard.
The words had been playful, her eyes gleeful.
I hadn’t found the little brown bottles back then. And we still hadn’t talked about it. Now I told Ackerson the gist of what Diya had said. Let her believe my wife was just spoiled; better that than she start digging into the private pain that tormented the woman I adored.
“Where can I find you if I need to talk to you?” the detective said in response.
“Probably here.” I gave her my cell number and had the thought that I’d have to buy a charger—the battery would be flat by tomorrow.
“I probably don’t have to tell you this, but the house is off-limits,” Ackerson said after inputting my number into her phone. “There’s nothing there you can salvage anyway.”
Pain shot through my jaw as I remembered Diya’s dad watering his prized lawn, her mum pointing out the designer wallpaper mural she’d had hung on one wall of the lounge as a feature. They’d been so proud of that house, of building something so beautiful after coming to New Zealand as doctors from a small island nation whose qualifications weren’t automatically recognized.