“To what end? I could tell you weren’t going to come, even after I expressed how much I thought I needed you.”

“But you did fine without me. Doesn’t that change to some degree how you feel about the original event?”

“No,” Jennifer said, without hesitation.

“How do you feel that I came to India even though I said I wasn’t? You haven’t told me.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m also confused. I guess the jury is still out whether I can really trust you, Neil. I have to be able to trust you. For me, that’s a big, big requirement.”

Neil inwardly cringed when he thought about how he revealed her secret to Laurie just that evening. He was absolutely certain had he confessed it to Jennifer she’d decide he couldn’t be trusted. With the thought came a certain exhaustion. Was it all worth it? At the moment he didn’t even know, as there was no guarantee she would ever be capable of a normal give-and-take relationship. He worried that in her mind he was always going to be either totally good or totally bad, whereas in reality he was somewhere in between, like everyone else.

“Who should call whom in the morning?” Neil asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Any vague thoughts of possible intimacy had vaporized the moment she said she hoped he was not expecting to come into her room.

“Why don’t we set a time?” Jennifer said. “How about we meet down in the breakfast room at nine?”

“Sounds good,” Neil said. He was about to leave when Jennifer launched herself at him, enveloping him in a sustained hug.

“Actually,” Jennifer said, with her head buried against his chest, “I really do appreciate that you’re here. I’m just afraid to show it for fear of being disappointed. I’m sorry I’m so skeptical.” With that she pulled away, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and then disappeared into her room.

For a second Neil stood there, caught off guard by her actions. As he had said, there were always surprises.

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

OCTOBER 19, 2007
FRIDAY, 7:45 A.M.
NEW DELHI, INDIA

Inspector Naresh Prasad drove up the Amal Palace Hotel ramp. While he did so he checked his watch. It was earlier than his arrival was yesterday, although not as early as he had been shooting for. He’d conveniently forgotten that the rush-hour traffic Friday morning was always a little worse than it was on other days, and it had taken him longer to get to his office and from his office to the hotel than he’d planned.

The head Sikh doorman recognized him, and he pointed with his stack of parking tags to the same spot Naresh had used the day before. Naresh drove through the porte cochere, angled around it, and parked. He waved to the doorman as he walked into the hotel. The doorman saluted in return.