I began to notice a pattern. While many of the notes referred to the entire family or specifically named Diya, Bobby, Sarita, or Rajesh—either as doctors or by name—I’d found no mention of Shumi so far. Not by name. Only in terms of her relationships to the others.
Bobby, you were a great boss—I’m rooting for your sis and wife.
Diya, I’m praying for you and your sister-in-law.
Sarita & Rajesh, I promise I’ll be there for Diya & Bobby’s wife.
The woman who’d joined endless clubs during high school seemed to have made no real connections in her adult life. It fit withthe picture I was building of her relationship with Bobby. Stay-at-home wife. Controlled by her husband. Kept inside the home and not allowed any friendships except with her husband’s family.
Another small thing to add to the pile of evidence against Bobby.
“Ithoughtthat was our car on the road.” Tim’s voice, the slap of his flip-flops against his heels having announced his presence before he spoke. “It’s nice, all these flowers, don’t you think? Joseph comes over every afternoon and weeds out the ones that are wilting. Just started doing it on his own. Makes me proud, that boy.”
Grateful the other man had initiated contact, I rose from my crouch. “He comes from kind parents.”
“How’s Diya?” His eyes searched my face in a way that made me wonder if he’d been doing some online searches of his own.
My chest tightened. “She’s fighting.”
“Good, that’s good.” He shifted from foot to foot.
Yeah, Tim knew something.
Keeping my expression tired, just a man in a tough situation, I said, “I’m trying to put together a few things for the funerals in case the police release the remains soon.” Charred remnants of people I’d celebrated with less than a week ago.
The other man stopped fidgeting. “Is there anything we can do to help? Just ask.”
Whatever he’d heard, he remained too much a good guy to hang me out to dry. “I was hoping to get in touch with family and friends,” I said. “I don’t suppose you remember any names? I already have Rajesh’s and Sarita’s hospital colleagues—the ones who have access to the ICU have been by to see Shumi and Diya, and they’ve passed on the wishes of the others.
“Many other folks have left flowers and cards at hospital reception, but usually with no contact details. People…they don’t realizethat no one in the family who has that information is alive or conscious.”
Tim blew out a breath. “Oh Jesus, I never even thought about that.”
“It’s not a normal situation,” I said. “Hard for any of us to process.”
“I’ll ask Hannah about any contacts she might remember, but to be honest, we were just neighbors. Don’t get me wrong—we were good neighbors, always helped each other out, but it wasn’t a deep friendship. Frankly, I was surprised to be invited to the engagement party, but then I saw how proud Sarita and Rajesh were and I figured they just wanted to share that with everyone. Was nice.”
“So you didn’t really talk otherwise, except for neighborhood chat?” There went my chance to track down Bobby’s rugby-playing friend.
“A little more than that,” Tim corrected. “Like when they found out Joseph was good with mechanical things, they suggested he think about engineering. Sarita said he should talk to Bobby’s wife—well, that knocked me for six. Never would’ve pegged her as an engineer!”
“I didn’t know myself until recently.”
“Joseph said she was lovely, supersmart. Talked him through options and possible pathways.” He stared at the caution tape. “She told him she wasn’t practicing because she and Bobby were planning to have kids and they’d both decided the kids should have one parent at home.”
He shifted his feet again. “I mean, he grew up with a mum who worked all the time—you have to, don’t you, when you’re a young doctor? I can see how he would want different for his kids, but real shame about his wife giving up a good career.”
I thought of Shumi’s cheerful presence melded with her absoluteinability to refute any request or decision made by Bobby. If he’d asked her to quit, she’d have written her resignation letter that night.
“Sorry I couldn’t help with any contact info,” Tim said.
“What about Bobby’s friend Richard?” I persisted, trying my luck because—quite frankly—I was desperate. “I thought I remembered you talking to him at the party.”
Tim’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Fishing, we were discussing fishing. He’s an electrician, gave me his card when I mentioned we were looking at getting a few electrical upgrades.”
Five minutes later and I had that card in hand and was back in the car.
Tim hadn’t invited me inside this time.
