Shit, the notebook was in the sedan.
A dog barked somewhere nearby. Princess. Alice must’ve let the poodle out for a late-night comfort break and something had spooked it. Princess didn’t bark much. But today, she kept going. And going. Frowning, I got my crutches and headed downstairs, then out the front door.
Nothing looked odd or out of place in the Cul-de-Sac. Alice’s house was dark except for her mother’s window, but Elei did stay up late at times.
The barking continued unabated.
Still, I was the only one who’d come outside. Most of the neighborhood was probably sleeping through it—the houses weren’t close together and had good insulation as a rule. My open balcony doors were probably the only reason I’d noticed.
I swallowed.
Was it really normal that no one else had responded? Or was I hearing things? Surely Shanti hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly? And what about Elei? Princess was barking closest to their house.
Sweat breaking out along my spine, I looked up the street but couldn’t see Isaac’s windows from this position. He stayed up all hours gaming. But he’d have his headphones on, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he was clueless about the noise.
Movement in my peripheral vision. When I turned, I saw Calvin striding across the street. He was dressed in checked pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt, and in excellent shape for a man of his age.
“What the hell is up with that dog?” he said when he got to me. “Diana and I barely got into bed before it started up.”
I took a gulp of cold air, my heart rate calming between one beat and the next. “Maybe Princess got locked out?”
“Elei might be getting a touch hard of hearing, but I don’t know how Alice and Cora can sleep through that racket.”
The two of us went down the pathway at the side of the house, and to the back, from where the noise seemed to be emanating. The huge canopied pōhutukawa where I’d sat with Elei and Shanti was a hulking shadow in the darkness, the fairy lights off, but the motion-activated security light above the back steps cast a wide arc of crisp white.
Princess was right up at the door, pawing at it when she wasn’t barking.
“Huh.” Calvin’s forehead wrinkled. “Alice treats that dog like a child, would never leave it outside alone at night.”
He was right. There was also something else odd. Princess’s fur—hair? Whatever the hell poodles had, it was usually a pristine white, but today, it appeared marred and dirty in blotchy patches.
“Princess, girl,” I murmured in a low, calming voice dogs liked. “What’s wrong?”
Glancing at me, she whimpered, then looked back at the house. But she’d stopped barking and was now just raising her paw to scratch at the door. Those paws left streaks on the glossy white paint.
Calvin frowned. “Is the dog aggressive?”
“Totally harmless.” I went nearer. “Princess, what’s wrong?” Balancing myself on one crutch and allowing the other to fall to the grass, I reached through the ironwork railing to rub the dog’s head. “What’s happened?”
She scratched at the door again, her whimpers a constant painful thrum.
Shifting my gaze to the object of her attention, I sucked in a breath. “Calvin, look at the door.”
44
“I don’t need to. I’ve just seen what’s on the dog’s coat.” Calvin’s tone was preternaturally calm, probably what he sounded like in surgery. “Can you hold it so I can see if the door’s open?”
I wedged myself against the side of the steps. The iron scrollwork was swirly in design, with large open loops, so it was no trouble to slide through an arm and take hold of Princess’s collar. “I have her.”
She whimpered and jerked when Calvin stepped in front of her, but didn’t try to bite.
“The door’s locked.” Cupping his hands on either side of his head, Calvin pressed his face to the frosted glass diamond in the door. “Can’t see anything.”
“Wait, I have an idea.” Digging my phone out of my pocket, I called Pari. She wasn’t supposed to have her phone on at night as it was strictly for emergencies, but she was also a seven-year-old kid.
“Bhaiya?” A sleepy voice. “Why’re you calling me?”
“Do you know if your mum has a key to Alice’s house?”
A pause, before she whispered, “It’s a secret.”
That’s why I hadn’t called Shanti directly; my father might be fine with her friendship with Elei at the moment, but who knew when he’d change his mind. “I know, but it’s an emergency. Do you know where she keeps the key?” If it was in the master suite, then we’d have to get Shanti.
“In my drawer.” I heard rustling sounds through the line. “Do you want it?”
“Yes. I’m outside, at the back of Alice’s house, with Calvin and Princess.”
“Princess isn’t meant to be outside at night.” Little huffs, as if she was already moving. “I’m coming.”
I stayed on the line with her even though she was literally just going out into the back garden, then coming through the gate onto this side. It was late at night, she was a child, and the bush loomed, an impenetrable mass on the other side of a flimsy fence.
She appeared in the darkness soon afterward, dressed in pink pajamas, her hair in twin braids. She was wearing her fluffy house-slippers rather than outside shoes, and she ran straight to my side. “Here.” Cold metal against my palm. “Why is Princess crying like that?”
“I don’t know, Pari. But can you stay outside with her while Calvin and I go inside to check everything is okay?” I’d seen my sister playing with Princess before, knew the poodle was no danger to her.
Even now, a distressed Princess was nuzzling into Pari’s petting hand and trying to get closer to her. I hoped Pari wouldn’t notice the blood on the dog’s coat, especially once I’d coaxed Princess down the steps and a little bit into the shadows, so Pari could sit in an outdoor chair.
By then, Calvin had used the key to unlock the door.
Slowly pushing it open, he listened. “No alarm.” A whisper.
To my surprise, he waited for me to join him before entering the house—but then again, Calvin was a prominent man. He probably wanted to ensure he had a witness to whatever was going on so nothing could blow back on him.
Bloody streaks marred the kitchen floor. Two thin lines about the size of Princess’s paws. “Someone dragged Princess outside.”
“I’m calling the police.” Calvin held his hand out for my phone. “This much blood is serious.”
After passing over the phone, I began to move farther into the house even as he motioned for me to stay put. “What if someone’s hurt?” I said.
I probably should’ve been scared, but my fear reflex had never been strong. Behind me, Calvin gave the emergency dispatcher the details—what little we knew.
Exiting the kitchen, I found myself at the foot of a flight of stairs that led to the upstairs bedrooms. It’d take a long time for me to get up those stairs. Better I check the living area first, then make the attempt.
It proved the right call.
Alice was wearing fleece pajama bottoms and a plain black tank top, her hair up in a loose twist. Like some women wore it when they weren’t quite going to bed, but heading that way. Maybe to brush their teeth, or take off makeup.
I couldn’t tell if Alice was wearing any makeup though, because blood smeared her swollen face. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing, either, and it’d be all but impossible to get back up if I slid my body onto the floor. She wasn’t lying near a sofa or anything else I could use to brace myself.
“Calvin!”
Thundering feet. “Oh, shit.” Racing to Alice’s side, he pressed his fingers to her neck.
One long second.
Another.
“She has a pulse.”
A tinny voice from the phone told me he still had the dispatcher on the line.
“Tell the
m we’re going to need an ambulance,” I said. “Maybe more than one.”
“Here.” He thrust up the phone and I grabbed it. “I don’t see any signs of spinal injury, so I’m going to move Alice into the recovery position in case she’s got blood in her mouth.”
So she wouldn’t choke.
After relaying what we’d found to the dispatcher, I said, “I’m going to check if the others in the house are safe.” I didn’t bother to wait to hear if they’d prefer I didn’t go wandering. Leaving the phone near Calvin while he tried to do what he could for Alice, I headed upstairs.
The climb wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. My foot was healing.
Not that I’d be up to running marathons anytime soon.
Teeth gritted, I took it step after step. Turned out insisting on having my old bedroom at my father’s house had been good practice.
My instinct was to go straight to Elei’s room at the end of the hallway, but my brain—indoctrinated by endless crime dramas on TV—insisted I check the other rooms first.
Fuck the dramas.
I headed to Elei’s room, following the light that spilled from the open door, my crutches leaving depressions in the thick carpet that filled up in my wake.
Empty bed. No one on the floor.
Backtracking, I began to nudge open the other doors.
Boy band posters on the walls, photos wedged in around a white vanity mirror, floral sheets on a king single bed.
Manaia’s room. Nowhere for anyone to hide.
The next door exposed a set of tasteful velvet armchairs in front of a large window, and a generous-size bed covered with white-on-white embroidered sheets. Had to be the master bedroom.
Walking in, I saw quickly that it was empty.
I checked the walk-in closet, as well as the attached bathroom and toilet just in case, but all proved empty. Neither did I find Elei or Cora in what looked to be a home office, or in the spare bedroom by the stairs.
Sweat starting to bead along my forehead, I went to open the door of what I figured must be another toilet or bathroom. It wouldn’t budge. I tried again without success. It wasn’t that something was keeping it shut from the other side—it was that the door seemed locked. I banged on it, listened.
Was it my imagination or was someone moaning back there?
Bending as much as possible, I looked at the door handle and saw it had one of those tiny little twist things you could use to open up the door from the outside if a child accidentally locked themselves in. It couldn’t be used to lock an adult in—unless you’d destroyed the unlocking mechanism on the other side … or someone had locked themselves in on purpose.
I began to search my pockets. I needed something small and thin enough to fit into the tiny slot so I could twist it open.
No coins in my pocket, not even a stray paper clip.
Giving up on that option, I made my way back into the master bedroom and to the vanity, where I’d spotted the shine of jewelry and possibly money. All of the coins proved too big to fit in that slot. Then I saw a bracelet with small dangling discs on it.
The discs might just be thin enough.
I returned to the locked door as fast as possible, which wasn’t exactly cheetah speed. The little gold disc fit. I twisted left, the rhyme my mother had taught me playing in my head: Lefty loosey, righty tighty.
A distinct clicking sound.
Success!
It was only as I pushed the door open that it struck me that I might be about to come face-to-face with the perpetrator. But no, that made no sense. Alice couldn’t have locked anyone in here, and if it had been Cora or Elei who had locked the perpetrator inside, they’d have been downstairs calling the police.
“Oh, damn.”
A wild-haired Elei sat slumped against a huge white claw-foot bath, her hand to her forehead. Her fingers were wet with scarlet when she brought them down, her eyes dazed. I couldn’t see any other injuries, so it looked like someone had shoved her in here hard enough for her to fall and hit her head and probably pass out.
“Elei,” I said gently. “It’s Aarav from next door.”
She stared blankly at me before terror blazed to life in the dark of her eyes. “Alice!” Scrabbling to her feet, she pushed past me, almost sending me flying.
By the time I made it downstairs, she was sitting beside her daughter, crying. Her soft, wrinkled hands stroked Alice in the rare areas where her daughter didn’t appear to have wounds or bruises.
“There’s not much else I can do without equipment.” A tightness to Calvin’s voice, his jaw working. It was the first time I’d seen him evidence such open distress. But the man had become a doctor for a reason.
“Why don’t I go outside and flag down the ambulance?” I offered. “Elei, will you come with me? You’re more mobile and can run over if they stop too early on the road.”
It was fast-talking bullshit, but I didn’t have much time.
Elei blinked, but struggled onto her feet. “Yes, we make sure.” Bending, she pressed a kiss to her daughter’s battered face before heading out ahead of me.
Transcript
Session #14
“I’m tired. Sometimes, I want to tell.”
“Tell?”
“About what I did. I know I was justified, but I want the world to tell me I was justified. Isn’t that stupid?”
“You grew up without a lot of external validation. It’s not unusual that you’d feel the need for it—but I’m afraid
I don’t understand your reference to your actions. What did you do?”
“Something bad.”
45
After a short delay while I used the intercom panel in the kitchen to remotely open the Cul-de-Sac gates, I found Elei standing in the main drive, ready to wave down the ambulance. The sound of a siren was just beginning to float into the air in the distance. Taking my face in hands made rough by dried blood, she said, “You help Alice. Like pretty mama help Alice.”
The pieces crystalized into a discrete sliver of knowledge. “Cora did this?” When Elei nodded, I said, “Did my mother have Cora beaten as a warning not to touch Alice?”
Another nod. “Beat Alice. Cora beat.” She lifted her left hand, made it into a claw, as Cora’s hand had become after the beating. “This. Cora remember. Long time.”
“Why tonight?”
“Cora hit.” She mimed a backhand slap with her right hand. “No now. Before.”
“Cora hit Alice again before tonight?”
“Yes, yes. Three times.”
And no one had wreaked vengeance, making her bolder.
“Today use …” She thrust her hands into her hair, the icy wind blowing her blue-and-white housedress around her. “Manaia, my Manaia.” It was a sob.
Softball gear abandoned in the kitchen, complete with a professional-weight bat.
Cora’s left hand was damaged, but she could still swing hard with her right—Alice might’ve gone down under the first blow if Cora had caught her unprepared. “Cora has to know this’ll put her in jail for a long time.”
Ducking her head, Elei sucked in a sob. “We no tell.” Tears drenched her voice. “Alice never tell. Shame. Shame.”
It was an ugly thing, but I understood cultural conditioning. My parents had never called the cops, either—what went on inside the home was private. Dirty laundry not for the gawking gazes of strangers.
“You’ll tell this time, won’t you?” It wouldn’t really matter, not with the amount of damage done to Alice and the forensic evidence the cops would no doubt collect, but Elei nodded firmly.
“Jail. In jail.” She stepped out onto the road as the siren began to echo as if it was already in the Cul-de-Sac.
“Was Alice angry at my mother for having Cora beaten?” I had to know if my mother had died because she’d tried to help a friend. Even if it had been a violent kind of help that destroyed another human being.
“No angry.” She rose on tiptoe, as if trying to see past the trees. “Inside. Worry. Worry Cora know.”
“Panic?”
“Yes, yes. Panic. But Nina says, she never know. Alice start to think maybe okay. Then Nina gone.”
If some part of Alice believed her wife might’ve murdered my mother in revenge, that’d explain her odd behavior the day I’d sat in her kitchen.
Red and blue and white, bright slashes tearing the veil of night.
A police car pulled up at the same time as the ambulance, and the cops raced inside first, to check that the threat wasn’t waiting hidden in the house. A shouted “Clear!” not long afterward had the paramedics running in, Elei by their side.
A second unmarked police vehicle, blue and red lights flashing behind its black grill, parked behind the ambulance. I wasn’t surprised in the least to see Detective Senior Sergeant Oliver Regan and Constable Sefina Neri step out.
When another marked car pulled up nearby, Regan said something to the uniformed officers and one went to stand by Alice and Cora’s front door, while the other stayed on the main drive.
Regan and Neri came to me.
“Aarav,” Regan said. “Did you make the emergency call?”
“Calvin did.” I nodded to the house across the street, now lit up like a flame against the dark shadow of the bush. The front door opened even as I spoke, Diana stepping out to walk down the path.
While Neri went to head her off, the officer who’d remained on the drive began to set up a perimeter, nudging out the other neighbors who’d finally emerged after sirens pierced the air. Veda was in a thick robe, while Brett had pulled on a puffer jacket. His legs were naked and pasty white below his boxer shorts.
Paul, in contrast, wore silk pajamas, with Margaret wrapped up in a blanket. Tia and Hemi stood next to the Dixons along with one of their daughters, all of them in hastily thrown-on outdoor coats. Riki appeared out of the dark just then, and I looked away before our eyes could meet.
Quiet in Her Bones Page 24