A Distant Heart

by Sonali Dev

  She sat up and pressed her forehead into his back. “But see, I knew. Even when I woke up in the hospital I knew you’d be there. Through all the feeling lost and being too tired to know how to go on, you’ve always been my compass, Rahul.”

  He took her hand and tugged her up to standing. “And currently the compass is pointing toward the airport. Now that we know we were looking for your donor in the wrong place, we’ve got to go look in the right place.” She knew that expression. Nothing would stop DCP Savant from getting to the bottom of the case.

  They had a few hours before they had to head back to the airport. She had to get something straight first. She sat back on the bed and looked up at him with all the fierceness in her heart. “The heart attack would have happened anyway. It had nothing to do with me following you or with us making love. My heart was basically done. I’d been in congestive heart failure for two years. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He didn’t respond to that, but he bent down and kissed her again, with a touch more desperation than before.

  “Maybe we don’t need to know where my heart came from,” she said, completely surprising herself. “Maybe Papa is right—if my donor wanted anonymity, maybe we should respect their rights. Maybe that’s why he was calling Dr. Gokhale—because he knew I’d drag you here after he went through all this to protect the donor’s rights.” Because Papa would never have lied without good reason. Without a right reason.

  “What about Asif Khan?” Rahul said so gently that she knew he didn’t agree with her. “What about the person who aided him? What about the person who put Nikhil and Nikki through hell? What about Jen and her baby?”

  But what could that possibly have to do with Papa lying to her about her transplant? “Maybe I was wrong. What if Asif was only messing with my head the way Papa said he was? What if my heart has nothing to do with Asif Khan?”

  If Kimi knew anything she knew that she could sense when something terrible was coming. She pushed it away, this feeling that rose inside her out of nowhere. The past few hours had been idyllic. The idea of going back into the world where these secrets waited to destroy everything made her want to burrow back under the sheets. A madman’s gun was pointed at her. Worse yet, pointed at Rahul, because he was standing in wait to get between that gun and her. She jumped out of bed, dragging the sheets with her, and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Hey, it’s going to be okay.” He held her tight. “I’m here.”

  “Are you?” she wanted to ask. Suddenly, everything was shaky again. He had told her they weren’t possible the last time she had laid herself bare in front of him.

  I don’t feel the same way about you.

  She wanted to ask him how he felt now. But she couldn’t. Her need to hold on was too strong, even if it was lies she was holding on to. Suddenly, that’s how she felt about her heart too. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know where it had come from. The truth didn’t feel as important anymore. There’s this desperation that takes over when you taste joy after waiting a lifetime for it, and it’s a very powerful thing.

  * * *

  The last time Kimi had been on a plane going to Mumbai from Hong Kong, she had thought she was going home to Rahul. Unlike her flight into Hong Kong, she remembered everything about her flight back to Mumbai. She hadn’t had a single doubt in her mind that he would be waiting for her with open arms.

  Not quite how things had turned out.

  Now here he was reaching across the armrest from the seat next to her, unable to stop touching her, fingers interlaced, his breath on her cheek as he spoke in her ear. It was all so normal that her entire being felt right with it. She kept wanting to kiss him. But they were in public. Still, when the flight attendant turned the lights down, Kimi reached out and touched his lips. He grabbed her and kissed her and kissed her as though he’d been waiting too.

  “Is this normal?” she asked him, wanting to climb into his lap and keep on kissing him. “Is this healthy? This feeling of being obsessed with you. Like if I close my eyes you’ll disappear.”

  He stiffened, all the heat in his eyes disappearing in a flash. He pulled away and sank back in his seat.

  What? What had she said?

  She placed a hand on his chest. It was the slightest movement, but he flinched. How could someone who had kissed her like that moments ago flinch at her touch? She was about to ask him what was wrong when his eyes softened again. He dropped a quick kiss on her lips—as much a peace offering as a plea for understanding. Their feelings and their silences had tangled up inside them for so long it was going to take time to sort through them, to learn to navigate them.

  “A movie?” he asked, which translated to him not wanting to have that conversation. But he didn’t withdraw from her, and that was everything.

  A movie was exactly what they needed. It was such a part of them. They had watched a total of fifty-eight movies together over the years, some across a plastic curtain, some not. And that was not counting the fact that they had watched The Great Escape eight times. This was no mean feat, because for a long time Rahul hadn’t wanted her to watch it.

  But that title was so perfect, she had pushed and pushed. Prison escape movies were their favorite, naturally. And prisoner of war movies she especially loved, because the prisoners had done nothing to deserve being imprisoned, except be brave.

  It is the sworn duty of all officers to try to escape.

  It was her favorite line from the movie. It was her sworn duty to get out of her room, and she was perpetually digging tunnels and shoring them up. And when one tunnel didn’t work she used another. The metaphors were delicious and she loved them.

  “The escape ends in disaster,” Rahul had warned her, ruining it for her before she’d ever watched it. She had still sobbed through that ending, as he’d known she would. Which is why he’d told her—to soften the blow. He’d been right. Somehow, knowing beforehand had made it less painful when the moment of truth came.

  “But three escaped,” she loved to say. Those felt exactly like her odds. Three in sixty-five.

  “Let’s watch Tangled,” she said as they went through the list of movies on the plane’s entertainment system.

  “A cartoon film?” he asked, incredulous.

  “It’s Rapunzel,” she said. “But this Rapunzel is all happy and chirpy and her prince is a thief.”

  So they watched a magical princess take on the world after being locked up for an eternity, as a starry-eyed boy followed her around. Then it was time to take on reality again.

  * * *

  The huge teakwood Ganesh carved into Dr. Girija’s front door beamed a welcome at them. For all the years Dr. Girija had been Kimi’s doctor, she had never visited the doctor’s home. Amazingly enough, this was exactly the kind of front door she would have expected to find.

  “Kimaya, Rahul, how nice to see you!” Dr. Girija said, letting them in and looking only mildly surprised. If Kimi didn’t know better she would have thought her doctor had been expecting them.

  Dr. Girija had one of those doctor personalities that instantly put you at ease but never let you forget that you were sick. She seemed eager enough to answer questions, and yet you felt like you had no questions when you were around her.

  Kimi had considered calling Papa and questioning him directly. Even after she’d had time to process the fact that he had lied, she couldn’t go to him with an accusation. What would she even accuse him of? Each time she tried to think about why he might have lied, her mind hit a wall.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Rahul had said on their drive to Dr. Girija’s home. He had insisted that they not call Dr. Girija before they showed up at her door.

  Naturally, he had made sure she was home by having someone stake out her location.

  Kimi had pulled on one of Rahul’s shirts before getting off the plane and tucked her hair into a baseball hat they bought at the airport. “Do you also want me to wear a fake mustache?” she had asked, making him smile. She was
already so used to him smiling at her like that again, it was as if he had never stopped.

  As soon as she settled into the sofa, Kimi pulled off the hat and untucked her ponytail so it swung down her back. She hated wearing hats or anything on her head. Something about the pressure made her head hurt.

  “Girija Auntie, please don’t bother with tea,” she said because the doctor had rushed into the kitchen as soon as they arrived and she was supposedly making tea—although a maidservant was pottering about with her inside the kitchen.

  Rahul held up his phone and tapped it.

  Kimi glared at him. “What did you do?” she mouthed.

  “Is your phone working, Kimi?” Girija asked, coming out of the kitchen. “I can’t seem to get a signal on my cell phone and my landline is also dead.” She picked up the remote and turned on the flat screen covering an entire wall. “At least the TV is working.”

  “I forgot my cell phone at home, sorry,” Kimi said as an image of some bodies being carried into an ambulance flashed on the screen with the headline: “Still no arrests in Colaba Killings.”

  “All this violence in the city is terrible,” Girija said directly to Rahul. “Did you know the two cops who died?”

  “No.” Rahul took a cup of tea from the tray a maid brought in and handed it to Kimi.

  Wasn’t Colaba where the safe house they were supposed to go to was located? Kimi tried to catch Rahul’s eye, but he avoided her gaze and turned off the TV. Which probably meant these Colaba Killings had something to do with the safehouse and he hadn’t bothered to mention it to her.

  He held up his cell phone. “Mine’s working fine. Let me take a look.” He took the phone from Girija’s hands and pressed a few buttons and handed it back. “Don’t know what’s wrong with it. Try powering it off.”

  Girija gave him a tight smile and turned to Kimi. “Everything okay with you two?” She gave Kimi a wink. “Did you need a contraceptive prescription, then? Are congratulations in order?”

  She had always been so nice to Kimi. She felt horrible being here. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. I’ve been thinking about writing a book on my transplant experience. I was wondering if you would help me.”

  Girija’s smile faltered for a second. “That’s a great idea, Kimaya. I’m happy to help.”

  She was about to sit down when Kimi said, “Thank you. Do you think the transplant surgeon would speak with me as well?”

  Girija stood back up before her bottom touched the sofa. “Sure. Why not? I’ll put a call in to Dr. Gokhale tomorrow. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  The cup of tea shook in Kimi’s saucer and she put it down.

  “So Dr. Gokhale was Kimi’s transplant surgeon in Hong Kong?” Rahul said with impressive calm.

  Girija looked from Kimi to Rahul and then at her watch. “Kimi knows Dr. Gokhale treated her. Listen, I’m late to pick up my daughter. Come to the office tomorrow and we can talk then.”

  “Sure,” Rahul said, and Kimi stood. “Thanks so much for your help.”

  Then just as Girija was walking them to her front door he added, “Does Dr. Bhansal still fly in from New York to do surgeries at Lilavati?”

  “What?” Girija stopped in her tracks.

  “Dr. Bhansal—I’ve heard he’s one of the best transplant surgeons in the world and that he consulted on Kimi’s case.”

  “Who told you that?” A sheen of sweat broke out across Girija’s upper lip. “Listen,” she said a little more aggressively. “As far as I know, Kimaya was taken to Hong Kong for her surgery and recovery. I’m just her cardiologist. You’re going to have to call Dr. Gokhale for details. But I really have to go.”

  With that she pushed them out the door and pulled it shut.

  33

  Rahul

  Present day

  Rahul watched Kimi as she twisted her ponytail into a knot and turned her back to him. He put the hat on her head and tucked the stray strands into it, wanting to stroke the back of her neck, wanting to kiss that petal-soft skin.

  She waited for his touch. But he couldn’t. Not now, not when he knew what he knew. Not when she was struggling so hard to avoid what she wouldn’t let herself see. Not when a killer was on the loose and he wasn’t the only dangerous one.

  He had to keep his focus.

  He walked past her to the stairs and checked his phone.

  “Did you jam Dr. Girija’s cellular signal?” she asked.

  He shrugged. He needed the doctor to not be able to use her phone for a little bit longer, until he had made a phone call. But he couldn’t do it in front of Kimi.

  “We need to find Dr. Bhansal,” she said.

  “No point.” He had no doubt Dr. Bhansal had performed the surgery here in Mumbai. There was only one person who would have all the answers, but Kimi wasn’t ready to ask those questions, and he wasn’t ready to pull the rug from beneath her feet yet.

  He dialed Maney and took Kimi’s hand, leading her down the stairs.

  “They got into your flat in the police housing,” Maney said as soon as he heard Rahul’s voice. “But we captured two of his men. Alive. One of them’s close to singing. And, boss, you can’t go back to your mother’s place.”

  “I know. I’ll find something. Make sure they don’t get anywhere near the chawl.” Rage shook inside him. “And cover The Mansion. No one leaves or enters. I mean absolutely no one.”

  “Got it, boss. The bastard has pulled out all the stops. He’s hardly got any men left, but he’s lost his head. Shooting at the police housing means he doesn’t care what happens anymore. He just wants you and Kimi Ma’am. Although I don’t think he knows you’re together. Don’t trust anyone.”

  “Got it. And, Shankar, thank you.”

  They got into the car. They needed to find somewhere safe where he could decide how to confirm what he suspected.

  Kimi had been watching him in silence, her color high. She pulled the hat off her head. “Tell me everyone in your building is okay.”

  “They’re fine.”

  “Call your aie and make sure.” It was an order. All the softness was gone from her.

  “That will only worry her.”

  “You can’t hide information from people to protect them, Rahul.”

  There it was. He’d known this was coming since those images had flashed across Dr. Girija’s TV screen.

  “Are you going to tell me or do I have to ask?”

  When he didn’t respond, she stopped trying to rein in her temper. “Those deaths in Colaba—were they at the safe house? And you knew, didn’t you?”

  “Listen, Kimi, I didn’t get a chance to tell you, that’s all.” It wasn’t like he had purposely hidden it from her. It wasn’t like her knowing would have helped anything.

  Naturally, that’s not how she saw it. “Someone got killed because Asif’s men thought they were shooting at me, and you thought I didn’t need to know? You promised not to lie to me, Rahul!”

  “And I didn’t.”

  “Withholding information is the same as lying.”

  No, it wasn’t. Things were seldom that simple. “We don’t have time for this, Kimi. Do you know anybody who lives around here that we can go to?”

  “We’re in Juhu, right? Didn’t Nikhil say we could get into his cousin’s flat if we needed to?”

  Bingo. He could kiss her.

  Well, duh—as she would say. He called Nikhil, and Nikhil sent him instructions for how to get into his cousin’s apartment.

  This cousin was apparently a big film star, and the apartment was even more white and pristine than Kimi’s bedroom had been when she was isolated. Except there were huge painted canvases all over the place that Kimi couldn’t stop staring at.

  “They’re a bit dark,” he said.

  “It’s no secret that I find dark and broody irresistible. God help me,” she said and then, “I’m going to go freshen up.” She looked so angry at herself, so frustrated with him, he went to her.

&nb
sp; “Kimi.”

  She turned on him. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  She walked away from him, no sign of fatigue in her step, and he knew she was having a good day, health-wise. The rest was just courage. Everything she believed about her heart had changed overnight. Everything she believed about the person she loved most in the world was about to change too. It was happening again. He had reached for what he wanted. And disaster was about to follow.

  He went out onto the balcony and shut the French doors behind him.

  “You asked me to call you when I was alone. I am now. Kimi isn’t here.”

  “You have to tell me where you are, son.”

  He flinched at the word he had heard come out of Kirit Patil’s mouth so many times. The way he said the word son mapped their relationship. A burden, a lifeline. A master, a mentor.

  And now, a cop and a criminal.

  “We’re safe. Why did you tell everyone that Kimi’s transplant surgery took place in Hong Kong? Why did you lie about it?”

  There was no more than a single beat of silence. The minister was good. Very good. “What are you talking about? Of course her surgery happened in Hong Kong. Why would you accuse me of such a thing?”

  “We went to Hong Kong.” But Kirit already knew that. He had called Dr. Gokhale. Called Dr. Girija. It was obvious from Dr. Girija’s behavior today that Kirit had called her and warned her they were coming and asked her to stick with the lies.

  “You had direct orders not to leave the country. You are forgetting your place, Rahul.”

  “No, sir, I think I’m finally remembering my place.”

  Another beat of silence. Kirit used it to completely alter his tone. “Listen, son, we aren’t on different sides here. You have to know that.”

  “It’s a pretty elaborate lie to tell. All the records have been falsified.” And that was the least of it. How was Kimi going to get through this?

  “Listen to me. There’s no foul play. All I was doing was trying to keep this out of the media. The plan really was to take her to Hong Kong. We had a brain-dead donor there. But then the donor heart collapsed and we were back where we started. And Kimi had no time left.