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)
We hadn’t quite gotten to that stage, but her parents and brother had thawed enough to throw us a huge party, and preparations were well under way for the “big, fat, totally extra Indian wedding” that would truly cement our relationship as husband and wife in their eyes. The description of the wedding was Diya’s, my wife excited about the celebration to come.
“Come on, baby,” I said to her today. “We’re getting married a second time, remember? No Elvis impersonator with purple hair and diamante eyebrows this time.” My voice hitched, my rib cage crushing my heart. “Then you’re going to take me on a tour of your favorite spots in New Zealand for our honeymoon. You promised.”
“We’ll drive to Milford Sound,” she’d said one dreamy night as we sat side by side at the end of their jetty while the stars sparkled overhead, the Milky Way so much brighter here than in the glittering metropolis in which I’d been born—and where I’d lived until I’d landed in New Zealand approximately a month and a week ago.
There was a poster in her teenage bedroom inside the main house that featured the lake and the sky, with the Milky Way caught in breathtaking detail by a camera lens. But even with my human vision, I’d seen an enormity of stars that night, the sky studded with diamonds.
“In the rain,” she’d added. “Milford Sound is best in the rain—waterfalls coming down all of the mountains that soar over the road as you drive in, the landscape so misty and mysterious that it’s straight out of a fantasy movie.” She’d leaned her head on my shoulder, warm and happy and so lovely that I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve her.
We both know you have blood on your hands.
I shoved away the memory of Detective Callum Baxter’s accusing words from eight months—and a lifetime—ago. Diya needed me sane and whole to fight for her; I couldn’t spiral into the black abyss that had been my life for far too long.
“We’re about to pull in,” the younger paramedic said.
I made sure not to get in the way as they unloaded Diya and rushed her into Emergency. The staff halted me when I tried to follow her through the doors inside, told me I had to wait because she was going straight into surgery. “We’ll alert you once she’s on a ward.”
Numb with fear, I was still standing in the public area when I saw the second ambulance turn in. I ran out in time to see Shumi being unloaded. Realizing that she’d probably be headed in the same direction as Diya, I waited by the second ambulance until the crew returned.
“Can you tell me anything about Shumi?” I asked, and when they looked blank, added, “The patient you just took in. My sister-in-law.”
“Oh right.” The woman of the pair, a brunette of maybe forty, grimaced. “I’m really sorry about your family. Do you know who else was there?”
“My father-in-law’s car was there, and I saw both him and my mother-in-law before I left the house earlier. The other car belongs to Bobby. That’s Shumi’s husband.” And Diya’s protective big brother. “They had to have come together—Shumi doesn’t drive.”
“Oh man.” The brunette glanced at her partner—a wide-shouldered Polynesian man—and got a nod. “Look, don’t tell anyone we told you, but she was stabbed, just like your wife.”
I shoved both hands through my hair. “None of this makes sense. They’re just a normal family.” Wealthy, yes, but not Beverly Hills levels of obscene money—or the stalkers and other nutcases that came with that. “Who goes in and stabs a normal family?”
The paramedics said nothing, but I had the feeling of words hanging in the air. “Did she jump into the lake?” I asked, trying to answer one question at least. “Shumi?”
A nod from the man. “Only reason she didn’t drown was that she got caught on a large branch that must’ve gone into the water in that last big storm and washed down by the house. She was unconscious by the time the fire crew found her, so without that branch…”
My stomach roiled. “Do you know if…if they found anyone else?”
Chapter 4
Private notes: Detective Callum Baxter (LAPD)
Date: Dec 2
Time: 23:15
Death notification made to Virna Musgrave’s son, Jason Musgrave. He was distraught and didn’t ask many questions. I’ll follow up with him tomorrow morning, when he’s had time to process the information.
Perez is back tomorrow so we can split up the tasks—all this money everywhere. Jason Musgrave’s mansion was the real deal, complete with fancy Italian tiles and all that—I don’t know, I get a bad feeling about it. Might be nothing, but we got to make sure we cross every t and dot every i, or the family’s piranha lawyers (it’s like the rich get them from the same vicious pond) will fucking eat us alive.