We talked about going to Massachusetts to check out Idylhaven; Jesse was all for it, but I wanted to keep my distance from Tariq’s theories and plans. Then we stared at the television for a long time without saying anything. Jesse had made us vodka cocktails, but with a too-light hand. I waited for the second one to hit my brain and make me unwind, but it didn’t happen. Jesse told me that I wasn’t responsible for Tariq. You couldn’t have known what he’d do, my friend said over and over. But that wasn’t true. Part of me had been aware all along of what would happen. I knew what kind of man he was. Still, I’d wanted answers, so I’d chosen a sadistic thug to help me. I drank another cocktail and tried to forget what I knew. When that didn’t work I turned to vodka neat and put my head on Jesse’s shoulder.

Bruxton had promised to come over to Jesse’s when he got back from Nyack. When the phone rang, Jesse jumped for it. “Hello? Sorry, who’s this? Oh. Hold on a sec.” He handed me the receiver.

“Hello, is this Lily Moore? This is Padma.”

Padma? I vaguely remembered Tariq’s pretty young house slave. “Yes?”

“I am very sorry to bother you. Tariq told me I must call you if…” Her soft voice broke into what sounded like a sob.

“Are you okay? Did Tariq hurt you?”

“He is in surgery. That is all they will tell me,” Padma sobbed.

“Surgery? What happened?”

“He was shot, two times, in the chest.”

“What?”

“Tariq has told me not to say things on the phone. Can you come here? Please?” she begged. “I would send the driver for you but he is already dead.”

CHAPTER 30

Security had been beefed up at Tariq’s apartment. In the foyer, a guard stood by the elevator and phoned upstairs to say that I was coming up. When the elevator doors opened, there were two men, wary and hulking, flanking the door. Inside, Padma came running towards me, throwing her arms around me like a long-lost relative.

“Lily,” she said. “Thank you for coming. I am so glad you are here. Tariq told me that if anything happened to him, you are the only person I can trust.”

When she let go and stepped back, I saw that her eyes were puffy and red from crying. She was wearing a dark blue salwar kameez and she was barefoot, as she had been when I’d first met her. That was the night Tariq’s girlfriend had mistaken me for my sister and had tried to strangle me. Suddenly filled with foreboding, I looked around the room. The parlor was elegant and refined, as if nothing untoward had ever happened here.