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)
After hearing what had taken place, Anand Advani said, “For fuck’s sake, son, can’t you ever keep your nose out of trouble?”
My hand tightened on the phone. “You really think I could do this? Murder an entire family?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think except as your lawyer—and as your lawyer, this looks bad. Most people don’t have even one suspicious death attached to their name. You already have two even before your in-laws are factored in. You know what the number is to be termed a serial killer? Three.”
There was a reason Anand Advani was considered a vicious asshole by those who’d come up against him in court. But I didn’t see him that way. To me, my father was a weak man in thrall to a woman who saw him as a trophy, and who’d probably mourn his death, when it came, more for theater than out of any true emotion.
My mother loved only two people on this earth: neither my father nor I were on that list.
“Can you help me find a local attorney or not?” I asked the man part of me loved even as I pitied him. Because for all his faults, he’d stood by me when the shit hit the fan…and he’d never once asked me if I’d killed Jocelyn or Virna.
He didn’t know about Susanne.
“Let me make some calls.” The sound of air being dragged in, exhaled. He was smoking again. “That cop—Baxter—he’s still sniffing around. Called me to ask what you were doing on the other side of the world. Didn’t believe me when I said you’d run off and had a quickie Vegas wedding, so I sent him a copy of your marriage certificate.”
“He reply?”
“Sent a message saying we have an extradition treaty with New Zealand. I told him that was nice, but that I had paperwork for Jason Musgrave’s seven-figure donation to a certain fund related to the police and just how fantastic it would look in a defense brief.”
“Baxter didn’t strike me as the kind who’d toe the company line.” In fact, he’d struck me as the exact opposite—a dogged cop incapable of letting a case go.
“Might be he wasn’t clued in. Now he is.” A shrug I could hear in his voice. “Regardless of what Baxter does or doesn’t know, the hierarchy will understand that the instant I file a case, the media will descend on them like rabid dogs.
“No matter if the fund is a wholly separate entity from the force, Musgrave’s donation just has the rotten smell of corruption about it—and you know how popular the department is after that gangland case that fell apart.” I could almost hear his satisfied smile. “I’ll email you a list of non-extradition countries anyway, just in case.”
Pressing my head back against the headrest, I smiled at the inside of the car roof. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Don’t say I never do anything for you.” Another drag of the cigarette. “You need money?”
“No.” I still had twenty-five grand in my official accounts, mostly thanks to my father forcing me to go cold turkey on the gambling after Virna’s death.
That first million I’d won? My salary? The balance in my main savings account?
Gone.
Aside from the twenty-five thousand—a remnant of my final big win—all that remained was the money I’d taken from Audrey. And by the time my father forced me to quit, not touching that money had been taking its toll on me in sleepless nights drenched in sweat, the need to be back at the tables a constant gnawing in my bones. His intervention still wouldn’t have worked if I hadn’t met Diya…if she hadn’t become my new addiction.
“Your mother called.” Another drag of his cigarette. “They’re filming the new show out in the desert. Says the sand gets between her teeth, in her hair, on her lipstick.” When I stayed silent, he said, “Raja’s boy is babbling now. Pretty sure he almost said ‘Anana’ the other day. That’s me.”
My lips curved, my eyes on the dark gray of the parking lot. “How’s the pregnancy going?” The second pregnancy so soon after the first had been a surprise, but Raja and Elizabeth seemed happy with it.
But my father paused. “Fine, I guess. I’ll find that lawyer for you.”
I didn’t luxuriate in the hint of trouble in paradise after my father hung up. My brother might be Audrey’s narcissistic reflection, but I liked his wife and my nephew. Elizabeth’s only flaw was that she loved Raja.
I drove out of the parking garage.
Rain hit the windshield soon afterward, blurring the golden light thrown by the streetlamp under which I’d stopped when the traffic lights up ahead went red. In the hazy light, I glimpsed the ghostly image of a stunning woman with high cheekbones and lush lips, her hair a wavy mass of ebony against skin that would make Snow White jealous, and her curves legendary.