Quiet in Her Bones Singh, Nalini (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) 📖

directly behind a mass of native ­bush—­from where I could properly see the house. The “luxe log cabin” with lots of natural wood and wide glass windows was home to the ­Savea-­Duncans.

Two mums, one kid, and Grandma.

I didn’t see the older woman outside that often, but Shanti had mentioned that she didn’t speak much English.

“You remember how Alice and Cora brought Alice’s mother over from Samoa to help with their baby?” she’d said, her expression oddly furtive. “Well, with Manaia thirteen now and on that school exchange to France this term, I don’t think Elei has much to do.”

I figured Shanti went over to hang with Grandma Elei while my father was out and my half sister at school. Both of them transplants from distant countries, with little freedom and no local networks. I wouldn’t give her up, least of all to my father, but while Shanti liked me, she had no reason to trust me.

I didn’t hold that against her.

I wouldn’t trust me, either.

Adrian emerged from the doorway, dressed in his customary white shorts and the ­aqua-­blue sleeveless tee that advertised both his biceps and his gym. Sports shoes and socks made up the rest of his outfit. He carried a duffel over his shoulder.

His smile was toothpaste perfect against white skin tanned to light gold as he spoke to the woman who’d just emerged to stand on the porch. Alice ­Savea-­Duncan. On the verge of forty and on the taller side of average, the emergency room nurse could easily pass for a decade younger, her flawless brown skin and taut abdomen giving no indication of the child she’d carried in her womb.

Those abs were clearly visible between her colorful spandex bra top and tight black leggings. No shoes and her ponytailed hair looked freshly brushed.

She cocked her hip and twirled her hair a little as she chatted to Adrian. I wondered what Alice’s wife would think of the interaction, but other people’s relationships weren’t my business and I had other priorities. Still, Alice should be careful. I’d seen Cora park her car partially up Isaac’s steep driveway the other day, out of sight of the main drive, then walk down to stand and peer through the bushes toward her home with Alice.

I could’ve told her it was a waste of time. Adrian didn’t come to the Cul-­de-­Sac on Wednesdays.

Shifting back from my concealed position, I walked around to the main drive. Alice and Cora were our direct neighbors, but it still took a while for me to reach a spot where she could see me.

Adrian glanced over my way as he turned to leave. A quick nod was all I got.

I wondered if he was still embarrassed about the time I’d met him on the stairs of our family home, freshly showered and emerging from my mother’s bedroom.

Maybe.

More likely, he had another appointment.

I raised a hand in hello to Alice. She wiggled her fingers before sauntering inside. She’d leave in another hour or so if she kept to her usual pattern. A senior nurse, she worked shifts in a rotation. This week was the night shift.

Cora was an aeronautical computer specialist on the early shift at the moment. She headed out around the time Alice came home. No wonder Adrian had a standing appointment. Aside from the ­Fitzpatricks—­and Calvin, I ­supposed—­Alice and Cora were the only ones in the Cul-­de-­Sac who worked “normal” jobs, but they weren’t exactly average in the financial stakes.

The house had been a gift from Cora’s wealthy family, and I’m sure that family continued to funnel more money their way. The house was well maintained, Cora and Alice’s daughter attended an exclusive private school, and both women drove luxury cars.

A curtain twitched on a ­second-­floor window: Grandma Elei. Alice’s mother and keeper of her secrets. She didn’t wave back when I raised my hand, just dropped the curtain and pretended she hadn’t been watching.

Making a spontaneous decision, I found myself walking up the drive to the front door. Alice opened it soon after my knock. “Aarav,” she said, propping one hip against the doorjamb. “You want to borrow a cup of sugar?” Flirtatious words, but she had a lazy, satisfied look in her eye.

“I need to get away from my father,” I said with my best smile. “Invite me in for coffee?”

Husky laughter before she stepped back in welcome. “Ishaan is a bit of an asshole, isn’t he? You know he made me and Cora take down that old cherry blossom tree by the fence? Threatened to report it as a hazard.”

“He just can’t stand two strong, successful women next door.”

“You got it. You gonna be okay on this floor?” She nodded at the smooth and slick hardwood below my feet.

“Cane has a rubber grip on the bottom.”

I followed her swaying hips down the hall without a problem. The place was tidy but no ­showpiece—­despite the fact I knew it boasted a ­mini-­theater in the basement. Even though Manaia had been gone a couple of weeks, you could tell a kid lived ­here—­her sneakers lay kicked off by the door, her softball gear sat forgotten in a corner in the kitchen, and a school timetable was held to the fridge by a magnet in the shape of the Colosseum.

Manaia’s class had gone to Rome as part of their geography lessons.

Also on the fridge were multiple family snapshots. Alice was a compulsive photographer, making use of both ­professional-­type equipment and her handy phone camera. I’d seen her sticking her head out of her mother’s bedroom window, a camera with a massive zoom lens held to her eye, but hadn’t yet figured out what or whom she was photographing.

Might just be the bush in all its changing moods.

“So,” she said after putting on the coffee, “you’re not hankering to move back in with dear old Dad after this little return?”

“Shoot me now.”

Her laughter was warm and ­full-­bodied, her confidence in her body a statement. At around ­five-­eight, she was all curves and lithe muscle, and she