Quiet in Her Bones by Singh, Nalini (mobi reader .txt) 📕

that from my ­tree-­shrouded aerie, I could see nearly all movement in the ­street—­including some ­otherwise-­secluded areas.

Such as the corner of the Henare family’s triple garage.

Hemi didn’t lower the electronic garage door after nosing in his car beside his wife’s sporty red roadster. Neither did I see the home’s lower front windows glow with the internal sensor light that meant he’d exited into the hallway. He was still in the car. Probably on a phone call ­or—­I glanced at my ­watch—­listening to the hourly news bulletin.

I moved before I’d consciously processed the decision. Cane in hand, I hobbled as fast as possible down the stairs, and out the door. My breath was coming in puffs, and the wet chill in the air reminded me I’d forgotten my ­jacket—­but when I finally made it to the Henare place, I found I was in luck.

The garage door was still up.

Stepping onto their heavily ­tree-­shadowed drive just as the streetlights came on against the falling night, I walked into the garage and around to the ­passenger-­side door of the Mercedes. There was plenty of room even with both vehicles inside, and since Hemi hadn’t bothered to lock his car, I opened the passenger door and got in.

20

The radio was playing music, an old song that’d had Hemi smiling before I startled him.

Eyebrows snapping together, he said, “What’s the meaning of this, Aarav?”

As if I were still a student being called on the carpet in the principal’s office.

I held his angry brown gaze, his irises two or three shades lighter than the burnished brown of his skin. His thick and slightly wavy hair, in contrast, was a rich ebony. Of proud Māori descent, Hemi was heavily involved with the management of the local iwi, and his children were ­standard-­bearers for Māori achievement.

Ariki was in the army and rising quickly up the ranks.

Mihirangi had just graduated law school.

Rima was currently in medical school.

Both women still lived with their parents.

Beautiful and curvy Tia was a devoted homemaker with extensive charity interests. She and my mother had hated each other for reasons I’d never ­understood—­though I had my guesses. As for the family money, no high school principal made the kind of salary that would allow him to live in the Cul-­de-­Sac.

The money came from a ­multimillion-­dollar building supplies business started by Tia’s grandfather that was still fully ­family-­owned. Tia was one of three siblings ­and—­per interviews given by their ­parents—­each one had been given a ten percent shareholding in the company on their ­twenty-­fifth birthday.

“We want to see what our tamariki do with their wealth,” her father had said. “They’ve been brought up to be of service, and to do the mahi.”

Yes, Tia definitely did the work. Despite her avowed dedication to her family, Tia’s involvement with charity wasn’t ­rich-­woman dabbling. She was the force behind at least two major children’s charities, and donated a quarter of her shareholder income each year.

Information that ­had—­again—­been proudly shared by her parents. But Tia’s money also meant luxury European cars, a house straight out of a designer magazine, and no reason to steal a measly quarter million.

Unless, of course, Paul and Margaret had been right and someone in the family had squandered away so much cash that they’d once been on the verge of bankruptcy.

“Hurry up, Aarav.” Hemi’s tone was the wrong side of irritable. “I’ve just got back from an education conference in Sydney. I’m tired.”

Energy prickled my skin. If he’d been in Australia, it was possible he hadn’t heard about the recent discovery. “The police found my mother.”

New lines of tension formed around his eyes, his lips pursed. Hemi was a handsome man, ­wide-­shouldered and ­square-­jawed, and with a sense of competence about him. I could see why my mother had been drawn to him.

Switching off the radio in a quick, hard move, he said, “Where’s Nina been all this time?”

“In a rusting green Jaguar a few minutes’ drive from here.”

Hemi’s head jerked toward me, the whites of his eyes bright around his irises. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

His shock appeared genuine, but he was tipped to run in the next city council election. He had a politician’s ability to think one thing and show another on his face.

“All signs are that she’s been dead since the night she disappeared.”

She’d been wearing a sleeveless top of red silk, flowing black pants. And when she kissed me before she went out with my father, she’d smelled of expensive musk. I’d watched her walk down the steps to the ground floor, her pants moving fluidly around her legs and her hair a glossy tumble.

She’d turned back at the bottom and smiled.

“Fuck.” It was the first time I’d ever heard Hemi swear. “Fuck!”

This was it. My one shot. “Why did you threaten to kill her?”

His muscles bunched, a tick in his jaw. “I think you’d better get out of my car.”

“I kept a diary. Wrote down your exact words. I’m sure the police would love to see it.” No flinching, no hesitation, I kept going. “ ‘I’ll kill you, you bitch.’ ” I emulated his ugly tone. “ ‘Just give me an excuse.’ ”

The glance he shot me this time was poisonous. “You really are her son.”

“Yes. I won’t give up trying to find the truth.”

“What? That she crashed her car in a drunken mistake?”

“Hell of a lot of cops for an accident.” I shifted to get out of the car but didn’t exit.

Hemi stared at me for a long time. “Are you sure you want to know the truth?”

I didn’t move.

His laugh was cruel. “Your mother was a ­stone-­cold bitch. She did ­everything in her power to get me into her bed, then when I gave in and took what was on offer, she threatened to tell Tia. I would have killed her if she’d done it, but Nina had the good sense to keep her mouth shut.”

“She might’ve been a ­stone-­cold bitch, but I don’t see a leash on you.” Screw allowing men to blame