Rebel Hard
Page 63
“Hi, Anj,” she said with forced cheer. “Is Maddie with you? I’m trying to track her down to show her the cake topper I finally found, but I think her phone might be flat.”
“It must be if she hasn’t called you screaming in excitement” was Anjali’s laughing response. “She’s determined to have that topper and that topper only. Anyway, I haven’t talked to her today.” A child’s cry in the background. “Got to go. Send me a pic of the topper if it’s the one Maddie wants. I can’t wait to see it.”
Jaci said much the same.
By the time Nayna hung up from that call, otherwise stiff and contained Sandesh Patel was close to going to pieces, but he remained unwilling to give up on Madhuri.
“I didn’t go to your parents for this reason,” he said. “I knew they would feel so much shame. I don’t want that between me and my in-laws when Madhuri and I get married.”
His voice broke, and Nayna could see him pulling himself together with conscious effort of will. “I thought, she’s your sister. Maybe you can talk sense into her before this gets out. The wedding can go ahead and no one will ever know—I can understand if she’s having jitters. I know she had a bad first marriage.”
Yes, this man was very much madly in love with Nayna’s sister. “I’ll try to track her down,” she promised. “But you have to understand, if she really is in love with someone else and doesn’t want to come back, I won’t force her.” Angry as she was with Madhuri, they remained sisters, and Nayna’s loyalty had to be to her.
Lines of strain on Sandesh’s face, but he nodded. “No force. I waited a long time to marry, and I want a happy married life. But I need to understand why. Why did she say yes? Was it only because I’m rich and respectable? Did she ever care for me?”
Nayna felt the same need for answers and said so to Raj after he returned from driving Sandesh Patel home. Neither one of them had trusted the other man behind the wheel of a car in his current emotional state. His dark blue Mercedes was parked on the street in front of Nayna’s apartment and should be safe enough in the residential neighborhood.
“This is what your sister did before.” Raj’s words held no judgment. “Do you think she’d repeat her mistake?”
“Before today, I would’ve bet everything that she wouldn’t,” Nayna said, her mind awash in memories of her conversation with Madhuri the night Sandesh and his family had come over—her sister had been so peaceful, so determined to put the past behind her. Not only that, but she’d displayed a distinct attraction to the doctor.
“Obviously,” she added, “I don’t know her as well as I thought I did.” Nayna thrust a hand through her hair. “I called my parents and asked if Madhuri was there—Ma said she was off visiting out-of-town friends and wouldn’t be home for a couple of days, but when I called the hotel Madhuri said she’d be at, they had no guest with that name.”
Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach. “She lied to my mother, she broke up with her fiancé by text message, and now she isn’t answering my calls or messages.” Nayna folded her arms, her hand squeezing her phone. “What possible explanation can she have for acting this way? If she wanted to call off the wedding, fine, but do it like an adult. Why cut and run?”
“Is it possible she needs a couple of days’ time out and then she’ll be back?”
Nayna pressed her lips together. “I have no idea. I don’t trust my sister very much right now.” It was the lie to their mother that caught in her craw the most; Madhuri had witnessed how Shilpa Sharma was at last breaking out of her shell to assert herself with their father. It had taken their mother decades and the near-banishment of a second daughter to find her voice.
If she discovered what Madhuri had done, it would not only hurt her, it would make her doubt her instincts at a critical time. “I am not going to wait around for her to decide to be an adult, but I can’t work out where she might’ve gone.”
“Navin watches true crime shows on TV sometimes.” Raj rubbed at his jaw. “I saw an episode with him where a cop said most people who run tend to go to a familiar place. Especially when stressed—they don’t have the emotional capacity to think of a brand-new place to hide.”
Nayna’s mind flashed to the image she’d seen on Madhuri’s phone. Of that cottage by the ocean. A cottage with a name. “Wait.” Grabbing her laptop, she got it going, then typed in “Seagrass Cottage,” centering her search on New Zealand.
It was the first hit. A listing on a small local website that advertised vacation homes turned into short-term rentals.
Seagrass was located about two hours outside Auckland.
When she checked, she saw that today’s date as well as tomorrow and the day after were blacked out. The place was booked.
“This is a long shot,” Nayna said to Raj. “But it’s where she went with her last boyfriend.”
Raj leaned over her chair, his arms braced on the back. “Owner’s number is listed, but there’s no information about if there’s a direct line to the cottage.”
“I’ll call the owner, say I’m trying to touch base with my sister and I think she’s at the cottage.” If Madhuri wasn’t there, no harm, no foul.
If she was, however…
Nayna crossed her fingers behind her back and made the call. The owner was suspicious at first, but softened when Nayna stayed polite and threw in phrases like “family emergency” and “no cell phone reception.”
“I still can’t give out information on my guests, dear,” the other woman said at last, but Nayna could feel her wavering. “And we don’t have a landline out there.”
That was when Nayna had a burst of genius. “She usually uses my phone number as her emergency contact on any forms that require it,” she told the owner. “If that’s on your records, would that ease your mind?”
The owner didn’t say anything, but Nayna heard clicking on the other end. “Well, I’m so glad you mentioned that,” she said at last. “Your name and phone number are right here on her reservation, so I think it’s all right to tell you your sister is at Seagrass. I hope the news isn’t too bad.”
“Thank you so much for your help.” Nayna asked a few more questions to ensure she understood how to reach the seaside cottage, then hung up.
Raj already had his keys in hand. “Let me call Navin, make sure he’s home to deal with anything that comes up, then we can go. My grandparents are there too, but they’re elderly. I don’t want them panicking if Dad needs medical help.”
His brother proved to be at home and willing to do what was necessary.
“Being half-drunk and out of reach while Dad was undergoing major surgery screwed Navin’s head on straight in at least one way,” Raj said to her as they walked out to his truck. “He’s become way more reliable.”
Nayna waited to reply until they were both in the truck and belted in. “What about Komal?” Despite her strong negative reaction to the other woman the first time they’d met, after learning of Navin’s partying ways, Nayna had come to have a certain sympathy for Komal.
It couldn’t have been fun for a young bride to spend endless weekends alone while her husband hung out with “the boys.” No wonder Komal had started going out to parties of her own. It didn’t excuse her abrasive and often unkind nature, but it gave Nayna insight into the reason she might’ve become that way.
“It must be if she hasn’t called you screaming in excitement” was Anjali’s laughing response. “She’s determined to have that topper and that topper only. Anyway, I haven’t talked to her today.” A child’s cry in the background. “Got to go. Send me a pic of the topper if it’s the one Maddie wants. I can’t wait to see it.”
Jaci said much the same.
By the time Nayna hung up from that call, otherwise stiff and contained Sandesh Patel was close to going to pieces, but he remained unwilling to give up on Madhuri.
“I didn’t go to your parents for this reason,” he said. “I knew they would feel so much shame. I don’t want that between me and my in-laws when Madhuri and I get married.”
His voice broke, and Nayna could see him pulling himself together with conscious effort of will. “I thought, she’s your sister. Maybe you can talk sense into her before this gets out. The wedding can go ahead and no one will ever know—I can understand if she’s having jitters. I know she had a bad first marriage.”
Yes, this man was very much madly in love with Nayna’s sister. “I’ll try to track her down,” she promised. “But you have to understand, if she really is in love with someone else and doesn’t want to come back, I won’t force her.” Angry as she was with Madhuri, they remained sisters, and Nayna’s loyalty had to be to her.
Lines of strain on Sandesh’s face, but he nodded. “No force. I waited a long time to marry, and I want a happy married life. But I need to understand why. Why did she say yes? Was it only because I’m rich and respectable? Did she ever care for me?”
Nayna felt the same need for answers and said so to Raj after he returned from driving Sandesh Patel home. Neither one of them had trusted the other man behind the wheel of a car in his current emotional state. His dark blue Mercedes was parked on the street in front of Nayna’s apartment and should be safe enough in the residential neighborhood.
“This is what your sister did before.” Raj’s words held no judgment. “Do you think she’d repeat her mistake?”
“Before today, I would’ve bet everything that she wouldn’t,” Nayna said, her mind awash in memories of her conversation with Madhuri the night Sandesh and his family had come over—her sister had been so peaceful, so determined to put the past behind her. Not only that, but she’d displayed a distinct attraction to the doctor.
“Obviously,” she added, “I don’t know her as well as I thought I did.” Nayna thrust a hand through her hair. “I called my parents and asked if Madhuri was there—Ma said she was off visiting out-of-town friends and wouldn’t be home for a couple of days, but when I called the hotel Madhuri said she’d be at, they had no guest with that name.”
Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach. “She lied to my mother, she broke up with her fiancé by text message, and now she isn’t answering my calls or messages.” Nayna folded her arms, her hand squeezing her phone. “What possible explanation can she have for acting this way? If she wanted to call off the wedding, fine, but do it like an adult. Why cut and run?”
“Is it possible she needs a couple of days’ time out and then she’ll be back?”
Nayna pressed her lips together. “I have no idea. I don’t trust my sister very much right now.” It was the lie to their mother that caught in her craw the most; Madhuri had witnessed how Shilpa Sharma was at last breaking out of her shell to assert herself with their father. It had taken their mother decades and the near-banishment of a second daughter to find her voice.
If she discovered what Madhuri had done, it would not only hurt her, it would make her doubt her instincts at a critical time. “I am not going to wait around for her to decide to be an adult, but I can’t work out where she might’ve gone.”
“Navin watches true crime shows on TV sometimes.” Raj rubbed at his jaw. “I saw an episode with him where a cop said most people who run tend to go to a familiar place. Especially when stressed—they don’t have the emotional capacity to think of a brand-new place to hide.”
Nayna’s mind flashed to the image she’d seen on Madhuri’s phone. Of that cottage by the ocean. A cottage with a name. “Wait.” Grabbing her laptop, she got it going, then typed in “Seagrass Cottage,” centering her search on New Zealand.
It was the first hit. A listing on a small local website that advertised vacation homes turned into short-term rentals.
Seagrass was located about two hours outside Auckland.
When she checked, she saw that today’s date as well as tomorrow and the day after were blacked out. The place was booked.
“This is a long shot,” Nayna said to Raj. “But it’s where she went with her last boyfriend.”
Raj leaned over her chair, his arms braced on the back. “Owner’s number is listed, but there’s no information about if there’s a direct line to the cottage.”
“I’ll call the owner, say I’m trying to touch base with my sister and I think she’s at the cottage.” If Madhuri wasn’t there, no harm, no foul.
If she was, however…
Nayna crossed her fingers behind her back and made the call. The owner was suspicious at first, but softened when Nayna stayed polite and threw in phrases like “family emergency” and “no cell phone reception.”
“I still can’t give out information on my guests, dear,” the other woman said at last, but Nayna could feel her wavering. “And we don’t have a landline out there.”
That was when Nayna had a burst of genius. “She usually uses my phone number as her emergency contact on any forms that require it,” she told the owner. “If that’s on your records, would that ease your mind?”
The owner didn’t say anything, but Nayna heard clicking on the other end. “Well, I’m so glad you mentioned that,” she said at last. “Your name and phone number are right here on her reservation, so I think it’s all right to tell you your sister is at Seagrass. I hope the news isn’t too bad.”
“Thank you so much for your help.” Nayna asked a few more questions to ensure she understood how to reach the seaside cottage, then hung up.
Raj already had his keys in hand. “Let me call Navin, make sure he’s home to deal with anything that comes up, then we can go. My grandparents are there too, but they’re elderly. I don’t want them panicking if Dad needs medical help.”
His brother proved to be at home and willing to do what was necessary.
“Being half-drunk and out of reach while Dad was undergoing major surgery screwed Navin’s head on straight in at least one way,” Raj said to her as they walked out to his truck. “He’s become way more reliable.”
Nayna waited to reply until they were both in the truck and belted in. “What about Komal?” Despite her strong negative reaction to the other woman the first time they’d met, after learning of Navin’s partying ways, Nayna had come to have a certain sympathy for Komal.
It couldn’t have been fun for a young bride to spend endless weekends alone while her husband hung out with “the boys.” No wonder Komal had started going out to parties of her own. It didn’t excuse her abrasive and often unkind nature, but it gave Nayna insight into the reason she might’ve become that way.
