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)
As we’d walked outside, she’d told me to enjoy zooming around in the Alfa Romeo—she knew I liked to break the speed limit on the winding road to and from Lake Tarawera. The view of the green-clad hills, the deep hues of the Blue and Green Lakes, even the misty fog high up in the mountains—it was nothing like LA, but I was starting to love the lush quiet of it, the lack of concrete barriers and endless hours on the freeway.
“You left your job in LA to move here?”
Heat under my skin, my muscles threatening to bunch at the abrupt change in the direction of the conversation.
No way could Ackerson know about Virna.
She’d died months before I ever saw Diya across that rooftop bar.
“I left the job before I met Diya,” I said to the detective. “I wanted a change.” The lie would stand; the firm would never air its dirty laundry, never tell Ackerson that I’d been escorted out by two security goons after Virna’s son, Jason, threw a tantrum and threatened to pull his considerable investment portfolio from the firm.
“We don’t believe the firm is a good fit for you any longer, Tavish.” A fixed smile on the white-haired senior partner’s face. “I’m afraid the situation with Virna cannot be overlooked.” The merest flicker of an eyelash. “What, my dear boy, were you thinking?”
I hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem.
Never shit where you eat, son.
Too bad I hadn’t remembered my father’s sage advice until it was far too late.
“Are you currently in employment?” Ackerson’s voice held no judgment, but I knew what she was getting at.
It took all of my skill to keep my expression even. “I’ve only been in the country five weeks—I’m in the process of figuring out what certifications I need. But I have picked up a remote job in the interim—doing stock breakdowns for a business magazine.”
Ackerson made another note. “Can I have your current address?”
Once again, I didn’t flinch at the abrupt switch in direction—Detective Callum Baxter of the LAPD had done that, too. My father had warned me that it was a way to throw off the target, make him stumble. “We live…lived with Diya’s parents.”
“Traditional setup?”
“No. Just convenience.” This cop didn’t need to know that my wife hadn’t been ready to move out—she’d lived with her parents all her life. Part of it was their overprotectiveness of their younger child, part of it Diya’s genuine love for her mother and father—and part of it the sheer beauty of their lakeside property, which had been her home since she was sixteen.
“No rental will ever live up to this,” she’d said to me with a sigh one afternoon as we stood at the end of the jetty, watching a lone paddleboarder making her way across the cool water in the shadow of Mount Tarawera.
Her arm had been tucked into mine, her head against my shoulder, her perfume a pretty thing with surprisingly dark notes beneath.
I’d looked down at the black silk of her curls. “Will you mind? Not having all this? At least not straightaway?” I had every intention of building my wife her own personal paradise. All I needed was time…and the ability to access the money no one official had yet managed to find.
A year, perhaps even two, and we’d be set for life. If I wasn’t impatient.
Diya had aimed a joyous smile up at me. “Not a bit,” she’d said. “In LA, with you at your condo, that was the first time I’d ever experienced life without being watched over by my parents and brother.
“Even the week we met, while I was with my friends, they knew the hotel I was in, had the itinerary of the entire bachelorette weekend.” A pause, her gaze back on the lake. “I know they mean well, but it’s starting to suffocate me.”
I told you, I have enough! I’m not answering any more calls if you’re going to be like this!
The pills in the brown bottles, Bobby asking me if I understood Diya’s needs, her mother’s penetrating gaze on Diya when the black shadows began to gather. And my wife, whimpering and crying in her sleep, with no memory of it when she woke.
My nightmares had stopped after I landed in New Zealand.
Diya’s had begun…or returned, with a vengeance.
Enclosing those vulnerable truths behind a wall of privacy, I answered Ackerson’s question with a different truth. “Diya and I have been looking for our own rental over the past couple of weeks, but there’s not that much available in the area, and Diya’s business is based here.” My wince was real. “Trust me, it wasn’t my choice to bunk with my in-laws—I’ve been living on my own since I left for college.”
Pursing her lips, Ackerson nodded. “Yes, my son’s having trouble finding a good rental, too. Market’s tight.” She put away her notebook. “You don’t want to buy in?”