Quiet in Her Bones Singh, Nalini (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) š
Book online Ā«Quiet in Her Bones Singh, Nalini (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) šĀ». Author Singh, Nalini
To Rene.
Hereās to our next road trip.
Contents
Dedication
Title Page
1
2
3
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Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Credits
Also by Nalini Singh
Copyright
1
My mother vanished without a trace ten years ago.
So did a quarter of a million dollars in cash from my fatherās safe.
The police came.
The neighbors whispered that she was a thief.
My father called her a bitch.
āSheāll turn up, and when she does, Iāll have her in handcuffs!ā
Thatās what he said. Thatās what he screamed.
He was right.
It took ten years, but she has turned up.
The police found her car in the dense bush of the WaitÄkere Ranges Regional Park four hours ago. She was inside. Well, her bones were anyway. Those bones were clothed in the remnants of the red silk shirt she was wearing that night.
The night I heard her scream.
2
Iād just spent two hours staring at my unfinished manuscript when the police came to the door of my fatherās subtly upscale residence of glass and polished wood. Designer enough to make it clear he was no ordinary man, but understated enough to blend in to the dark green landscape that surrounded it.
Iād come āhomeā to live after my hospital discharge a month ago. Doctorsā orders.
āYou canāt be on your own,ā Dr. Binchy had said, hazel eyes unblinking behind square black spectacle frames. āNot yet.ā
I didnāt know why I hadnāt just hired a nurse instead of returning to this unhappy place thick with ugly memories. Before adding, then deleting, a thousand pointless words on my next book, Iād started to look up nursing agencies. Then the police came. The Āmiddle-Āaged man in plain clothes, the Ātwenty-Āsomething woman in full uniform, cap included.
Recognition flashed in her eyes when I opened the door.
The man, solid and stolid with a square jaw and watery blue eyes, flashed his ID. āWeād like to speak to Mr. Ishaan Rai.ā
āSure.ā Turning on my crutches, I saw that my father was already coming down the hall, a Āwell-Ādressed CEO on top of the world, his graying black hair perfectly styled and his shirt a crisp blue.
He wasnāt a tall man, nor was he short. Average height, with average features. He shouldāve looked ordinary, even bland, but my father has a presence, a dignity to him that Iāve always found a grand irony.
āWhatās this about?ā he demanded, because thatās what Ishaan Rai does. Demand. Itās served him well except for when it comes to his son, who is his disappointment.
āMr. Rai,ā the man began, raising his ID. āIf we could speak in private.ā
āOh, for Godās sake, just spit it out. What complaint is it now? The plant is built to the highest ĀspecificationsāĀit isnāt breaching any environmental restrictions.ā Heās so used to ordering people about that it doesnāt seem to occur to him that a senior officer wouldnāt knock on his door at eight in the morning for a complaint about emissions or discarded chemicals.
The male officerās expression stilled, and right then, I saw an intelligence I hadnāt previously spotted. Solid and stolid could also mean dogged and relentless. āIām Detective Senior Sergeant Oliver Regan and this is my colleague Constable Sefina Neri. We regret to inform you that the body of a deceased female was discovered early this morning in the WaitÄkere Ranges Regional Park. Her identity has yet to be officially verified, and normally, we wouldnāt inform you at this ĀstageāĀbut, given the likely publicity and attendant conjecture, the decision was made to alert you. She had her driverās license and credit cards with her. All in the name of Nina Rai.ā
Time stopped, filled with the sound of a sharp, pained scream.
Even my father seemed stunned into silence, but that never lasts long with him. āWhereās she been all this time?ā he barked. āLiving it up on my money Iām guessing.ā
Constable Neriās eyes were a deep, intense brown and she locked them unblinkingly on my father, but let her senior officer do the talking. Her job, I understood, was to watch and make note of any and all reactions.
The intensity of her, it reminded me of Paige.
āIndications are that the deceased has been in place for a significant period,ā Regan responded, the pale skin of his face pockmarked with old acne scars. āFull forensic examinations will take some time, of course, but we have reason to believe that sheās been there since the night she was last seen ĀaliveāĀour people have discovered remnants of the clothing you described her wearing in your theft complaint.ā
Red silk, a top that had left her arms bare and slipped neatly into the high waist of her Āwide-Ālegged and tailored black pants. Her heels had been black, too, her lips a pop of red that matched her top.
Around me hung silence.
Heavy. Cold. Cutting.
Like the silence my father had utilized as a weapon against my mother. She, in turn, hadnāt been much for silence. My mother preferred smashing things, preferred screaming.
But not like that final scream.
āCould it be someone else?ā I asked, because my father was just staring at ĀthemāĀand because I didnāt want their words to be true. āSomeone couldāve stolen her wallet and you could be wrong about the clothes. Itās been a long time.ā
Reganās expression didnāt soften as he said, āThe body was discovered in a vehicle registered to Nina Parvati Rai.ā
My hand tightened on the edge of the door. I had no more straws left to clutch.
Deep, aching stabs of pain shot through my left leg at the same time, transmitted from the bones in my foot and ankle knitting themselves back together cell by cell.
āIf you have something of Mrs. Raiās that might hold her DNA,ā Detective Regan said, āthatāll speed up the process. But we realize that may be impossible after all this ĀtimeāĀa familial DNA match will be our next option.ā
My mouth opened. āI might have something.ā I had no intention of elaborating further in front of my ĀfatherāĀwhat normal son went into his motherās room and carefully picked up and bagged her favorite hairbrush? What normal son kept it all these years?
A son whoād heard a scream.
āIn
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