Elektrik Ninja wasfourmonths behind.
The next invoice was from a major supplier and it bore a curt coda:All shipments on hold until invoice paid.
My temples throbbed. Why had these been on what I assumed was the warehouse manager’s desk, rather than going to Bobby at his much nicer office at the flagship store? Because the warehouse manager handled any bills related to the warehouse? No, that didn’t explain the plumber’s bill. Maybe the entire senior team had just gathered there for an emergency meeting after the fire.
Whatever the reason, one thing I knew: Bobby had been about to lose everything.
A flash of memory, Rajesh slapping Bobby on the shoulder at the party as he told a friend how proud he was of his children. “Bobby’s built his own life, and he never rode on my coattails even when I wanted him to! Now Diya’s going to be settled with an accomplished life partner. I’m a very lucky man.”
At the time, I’d just been annoyed that Rajesh was ignoring Diya’s success as an event planner, had held my tongue only because I’d been standing with another group nearby, not actually part of that conversation. But now I thought back. Bobby had smiled and shaken the hand of his father’s friend, nothing in his expression giving away the panic that had to be churning inside him.
His entire identity had been about his success as a self-made man. Men like that didn’t like to admit to failure. In the worst cases, theydecided that the only way to escape what they thought of as their shame was to ensure there was no one left alive to witness it.
—
Before finally falling into a fitful sleep, I sent Ackerson an anonymous tip via a throwaway email address:Bobby Prasad wasn’t as successful as everyone thinks. Look at his business accounts. He couldn’t even pay his rent! His shops would soon have nothing to sell because no one was going to extend a further line of credit to such a loser!
I’d deliberately written it in a mean-spirited tone as might come from someone passing on gossip. But I couldn’t base all my hopes on Ackerson following that thread and realizing that Bobby had likely murdered his entire family to save himself from the humiliation of having to admit his failure.
I hadn’t mattered, wasn’t important, could live.
Yeah, that logic made sense.
He might even have killed himself, his body in pieces in the ruins of the house.
No way to know. The obsessive searching I’d done on such murderers—who I’d learned were called “family annihilators”—had thrown out an even mix of those who ended their own lives alongside those of their families, and those who walked away to begin a whole new life.
As if now that they’d erased their family, they’d also erased their shame and worry.
My mind was still struggling to comprehend the coldpsychopathy of the entire thing when I woke the next morning. But I couldn’t afford to be distracted by my horror at what Bobby had done. I needed more to bolster my case, had decided to focus on Ajay’s comment about Bobby’s teenage trouble. I knew it was flimsy, but it was all I had.
Hopefully, the more incidents I could add to his pattern of antisocial behavior, the better I’d look in comparison.
The only problem was that I had no idea where to start my research.
Standing in front of the motel bathroom’s chipped sink as I finished shaving, I thought back to the engagement party.
My mind flickered with a collage of images.
How Diya’s father had smiled indulgently at her, how her mother had brushed back her hair now and then.
Love.
Yet they’d allowed the blame for Ani’s violent death to be placed on her head. Protecting their bigger, stronger son because he wouldn’t make as sympathetic a subject as Diya. Blame the innocent little girl, sweep the whole thing under the rug. Even if that meant giving her a psychic wound that festered until she needed medication to fight it.
Richard—that’s it!
My mind snagged on the name of the husky blond man with a small red birthmark near his left cheekbone whom Bobby had introduced as his fishing buddy.
“Known each other since the first day of high school,” Richardhad said. “Bobby’s uniform was ironed, his hair in this real tight cut, and I thought for sure he was going to be a swot.”
They’d both laughed then, because the next day, they’d turned up to try out for the school’s junior rugby team, ended up together in the scrum, and that was it. A friendship that had lasted through school and differing career paths.
Richard hadn’t gone to college, I thought with a frown, trying to follow that thread to lock down a way to get hold of him. He and Bobby had been chatting about how Bobby would invite him and his— “Apprenticeship!” I tapped a fisted hand against the cold porcelain of the sink.
Bobby had groaned that the apprentice electricians had been a bigger hit at the college parties than fellow students like Bobby. “I shot myself in the foot inviting you lot,” he’d said with a laugh. “All the girls wanted the buff blue-collar guys, not the nerds.”
But when I grabbed my phone and looked up “Richard + electrician + Rotorua,” I got several hits and all of them came with a face attached that wasn’t of the man I’d met.
