Killer in the Shadows!

by Amit Nangia

  “Relax, my dear, they won’t bite,” he whispered in her ear.

  Naina laughed. She had always liked her uncle’s sense of humour. Naina tried to relax, but she felt like an unwelcome outsider. When he introduced her to his guests, she sensed tension in their tight smiles and nods. They knew who she was, knew about her past. Some of the people had probably known her parents. Coming back home had been a huge mistake. Could she really deal with all the gossip and curious stares directed her way?

  When the small talk had died, Naina found herself staring vacantly at the party. Uncle Chauhan chatted away with a friend beside her.

  A familiar face wedged its way into the sea of people. The lounge doors crashed back on their hinges, and in came Inspector Abhay Pandey. With him was the bearded Constable Shukla. He was looking like an overgrown, sniggering schoolboy who had been invited to the birthday party of a rich friend.

  Abhay was wearing a black leather jacket, white shirt, with a pair of jeans. The jacket brought out the contours of his broad shoulders and the light made his bronze skin glow. This man was sexy beyond any man she had ever encountered.

  Slinging the scarf round his neck, Abhay yelled for a waiter to get him some whiskey.

  She looked around the room and a strange feeling swept through her. It was as if someone was watching her. She knew this feeling. It started the week she had moved back home. She’d considered reporting her fears, but she had no proof. And she knew the police wouldn’t believe her. Naina shook the thought away and tried to bring herself back to reality.

  “Do you know that man?” Naina held Uncle Chauhan’s elbow gently and whispered into his ear.

  “Of course! Wherever there are politicians, there will be police officers. That’s the way it goes. Also, you’re forgetting that I know almost everyone in town,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I think your profession has ruined you. You haven’t had the time or inclination to get married?” he continued.

  Naina took a glass of juice from a passing waiter. She was surprised at the sudden question. “No. I’m not sure marriage is for me.”

  “Why do you say that, my dear?” Uncle Chauhan asked, concern dotting his eyes.

  “I’m independent, I have my own business, friends. I don’t need to be married,” she said although she wasn’t very convinced herself.

  While they were busy chatting, an elderly woman with gleaming white hair, dressed elegantly in a black sari with diamond rings in her fingers, just passed them by. Uncle Chauhan stopped her.

  “Mother, this is Naina Sinha. You remember her?” Chauhan swept a hand toward Naina. “Naina, this is my mother, Suchitra Devi Chauhan,” Uncle Chauhan quickly added.

  The old woman’s pale coloring turned a pasty white. "Yes, I remember something about her," the woman said in a low voice, peering at her. "Nice to see you, Naina. Amazing how much you look like your mother." Suchitra Devi said in a clipped tone and hurried away, making Naina wonder if she’d somehow caused the woman to be uncomfortable.

  Uncle Chauhan tried to control the situation. “Have you made any friends here? Anybody I might know?”

  Ria didn’t count and nor did Inspector Abhay Pandey. “Well, not yet. I’ve been here only a short while.”

  “Well, I’d like to be this girl’s friend,” a drunk voice boomed beside her.

  Naina jumped at the sound of the deep voice. Another bewda, she thought.

  “Girish!” Uncle Chauhan turned as a tall, dark-haired man slapped him on the back.

  “The party’s great, Dad,” Girish said as he raised his glass in the air. “But who is this beautiful woman?” Girish’s wide grin showed off a set of perfectly straight and polished teeth. A politician’s smile like none other.

  “This is Naina Sinha,” Pradeep Chauhan said, giving him a stern look.

  Girish’s ignored his father’s look. “It is a pleasure, Ms Sinha. Welcome to our home.”

  “Excuse us for a minute,” Uncle Chauhan said, deftly guiding Girish away so that he wouldn’t cause him more embarrassment.

  “I’ll definitely see you later, Naina,” Girish said, flashing her a smile as he was being led away.

  “I didn’t realize you knew ex-MP Pradeep Chauhan,” a familiar voice said to her.

  Naina turned to find Inspector Abhay looking at her.

  “He’s like my godfather. He was a friend of my parents.”

  “I see,” Abhay said as he had a swig of his drink. “I can see you need more than one man to satisfy you. First Ashish, and now Girish. Hmm badhiya hai. Ever thought of trying both of them at the same time?” He said with a sly smile on his face.

  “What a barbaric thing to say!” Naina was taken aback for a moment when she saw the grinning inspector. “I didn’t mention about Ashish, because I know he is harmless and….”

  She was cut off mid-sentence, as just then, a woman called out to Abhay.

  Abhay continued smiling. “We’ll finish this discussion later. Actually even I can’t be satisfied with just one woman. We have a lot in common.”

  He watched the woman approach them. Her soft scent, her lips, her blue sari hugging her curves, her blouse cut deep to show off her ample cleavage – confidence radiated from her every pore. With jet black straight hair bouncing on her shoulders and a figure to die for, she was gorgeous. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure when she saw the inspector.

  Though Abhay wasn’t too keen on getting too friendly with her, he took the opportunity to play his side of the game with Naina.

  Naina caught sight of Abhay staring at the woman in wide-eyed approval, his tongue almost hanging down to his stomach.

  Tara Chauhan took Abhay in her arms and hugged him, patting his butt and murmuring words that meant nothing to Abhay but sent razors towards Naina.

  “Do you know Tara Chauhan?” Abhay asked her.

  Naina shook her head. She knew that Tara was Uncle Chauhan’s daughter, but they’d never met before.

  “She’s gorgeous,” Naina said, wondering if the inspector had dated her.

  “Definitely, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” said Abhay, rewinding his scarf. He turned to Naina like a stage artist awaiting an ovation

  Hearing this compliment, Tara gave Abhay a kiss on his cheek and then manoeuvred her way between Naina and Abhay. The smooth silk of her dress slid against his hands, “Hi, Abhay. Good to see you again,” she cooed.

  “Khushi toh mujhey ho rahi hai tumsey milkar,” Abhay said. Her hazel eyes, more green than brown, watched him. Her soft black hair cascaded around her face, the fiery waves tempting his hands to smooth them back from her flushed cheeks. He pursed his lips when he saw her breasts moving quickly beneath her dress, her nipples poking impatiently at the light fabric.

  Naina tensed and watched Tara give Abhay an appreciative look but she composed herself and extended a hand. “Hi Tara. I’m Naina Sinha. Your father and I…”

  “I know who you are,” Tara said in a sweet but abrupt way.

  “My father told us you were coming. It’s nice to finally see you. Perhaps we can go out for coffee together sometime,” Tara suggested.

  “Sure. That would be lovely,” Naina said, a little confused if Tara meant what she said. She had met a lot of rich people in Mumbai and was aware of the small talk they made at parties.

  “Why don’t we have a drink…” Tara purred into Abhay’s ear.

  “I’ll ask the waiter to get you one?” Abhay suggested.

  Tara’s ruby red lips formed a perfect pout. “Okay.”

  At the far end of the hall, Shukla was busy stuffing himself with snacks of all sorts. He was gulping down expensive scotch, like there was no tomorrow.

  A man walked up onto the platform and silenced the crowd to begin his speech. He looked like a member of some political party. He started speaking and Naina realized that the speech was all about Girish and the wonderful future that lay ahead of him.

  Naina found the opportunity she had been waiting for to
make her escape. She quickly slipped out of the crowd and headed to the door. As she approached the exit, she was surprised to see her office assistant in a corner with Girish. They seemed to be in deep conversation. She hadn’t realized that Ria knew him. She started towards them to go and say hello, but changed her mind and decided she really was ready to leave.

  While Abhay was busy flirting with Tara, Naina had reached home.

  Just as she finished changing her clothes, the telephone rang. Naina looked at her watch and reached out for the receiver.

  “Hello, we are speaking from Blossoms Flower Delivery and we need to deliver some flowers for you. Our runner would be reaching you in some time. Hope that’s fine with you ma’am?” A young boy’s voice said.

  “Yes, I am home, but who has sent the flowers?”

  Even before she finished her sentence, the young boy had kept the phone down.

  Naina got worried after the gift in the office episode, and called up Abhay, asking him to come over.

  Abhay was enjoying his drinks and was in no mood to leave the party for the drama queen Naina. But somewhere deep down, he also wanted to go to her, and he did.

  She came out wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that were perfectly moulded over her rounded breasts. She’d scrubbed her face free of makeup and had removed her shoes. Abhay didn’t know why he found her being barefoot so sexy, but he did. He shifted on his feet, reminding himself of the reason for his visit.

  “What happened? Why did you call me at this hour? I have other things to do than just solve this case,” scoffed Abhay.

  Naina walked across the room, putting some distance between them. “I don’t want you to get wrong ideas. I need your support and would like to give you some more details. It could help you crack the case.”

  Ab aaya oonth pahaar ke neechey, Abhay thought.

  Applauding loudly, Abhay walked from the doorway to the couch. Then he turned around and made a circle with his forefinger and thumb. “Perfect, darling, absolutely perfect. Now we are talking.” Abhay sat down on the couch and lit up his twentieth cigarette of the day.

  Naina started her side of the story. “Well, as you already know, Ashish is my ex-boyfriend. We dated for a while and then he started getting obsessed with me, so I left him. But believe me, I don’t think he is dangerous.”

  “Aashiq hai Ashish. Hmm.” A long silence stretched between them. Abhay wasn’t so sure. He’d been a cop too long. A rejected lover or boyfriend could mean trouble.

  Naina hugged her arms around her in a protective gesture. “I think someone’s trying to drive me crazy.”

  Abhay narrowed his eyes. “Decide karlo. Is someone trying to kill you or are they trying to drive you crazy? Which one is it, Naina?” Abhay puffed out smoke rings almost as large as car tires.

  Naina shook her head. They were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Naina went to get it. She requested Abhay to come with her.

  “Who is it?” she asked, her hand on the doorknob.

  “Florist delivery service,” a young male voice answered.

  Abhay opened the window and hurled out his cigarette, then leaned forward and peered along the drive. When he saw the truck with the Blossoms logo on it under the streetlight, he nodded for her to open the door.

  The young man was wearing a green cap with the word ’Blossoms’ printed on the front. He held up a long white box with a pink ribbon tied around it. “Your lucky day, er, night,” he said, grinning.

  “Thank you,” Naina said as she took the box from him.

  Abhay pinched a few notes out of the chhamiya fund and handed it as a tip to the boy. The delivery boy was surprised with such a big tip, much more than the cost of the flowers. “Thank you sahab. God bless you.”

  Abhay had his own ways of helping people.

  She carried the box to the dining table and lifted the lid. Tears pooled in the corners of her huge eyes. “Oh my God,” Naina whispered. “Who would do such a thing?”

  The box was filled with crushed sunflowers.

  “But what does this mean…” Abhay was puzzled by the supposed threat.

  “Sunflowers are my favourite flowers. I used to always carry a bunch with me as a child. My grandmother told me that…” Naina cradled her head in her hands as she spoke, her voice desolate. “Why is this happening to me? Why?”

  Abhay heard the frustration, the fear, the agony in her voice. He couldn’t stand it. The smart thing to do was not to get involved. But then again, he didn’t always do the smart thing. He mostly just listened to his gut instinct. And right now, his gut instinct was screaming at him to comfort her. He took her in his arms and held her.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’ll get to the bottom of it,” Abhay said in a quiet voice. He gently traced his thumb along her chin and tilted her face to gaze into her eyes.

  Being held in Abhay’s arms was definitely not calming. This was dangerous territory. Desire laced his husky voice. His lips were a mere whisper away, his breath hot on her skin. Naina’s breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. Heat skittered up her spine, and the rough texture of his stubble on her cheek sent a hot need through her.

  “Tell me not to do this,” he whispered as his lips grazed her hair.

  “Abhay, I–” Naina’s unspoken argument died when his warm mouth met hers, sending a rush of pleasure and passion through her. His mouth devoured hers, his lips daring and forceful as he claimed the tender recesses of her mouth with his plunging tongue. Naina’s body reacted to his need by moulding to his hard masculinity, and a low moan escaped her when his lips moved to the delicate skin beneath her jaw.

  Abhay’s hands lingered at her waist as he touched his forehead to hers and exhaled loudly. His words came out on a ragged breath. Instead of releasing her, Abhay continued to stroke her back as he had before, slowly allowing the tension to ease from both their heated bodies. When he finally looked at her, she saw a mixture of the passion they’d ignited along with a strong sense of regret, but he still didn’t let her go.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Naina said. “Because you are working on my case; not because it wasn’t good.”

  Abhay wondered what she was saying. Kya bol rahi hai! Case gaya bhaad mein. He definitely didn’t want to stop.

  Beneath her thin t-shirt, her nipples stood erect against the soft cotton, and her breasts ached for Abhay’s touch, a realization that shocked her. But she gave Abhay a hard, assessing look, then dropped her hands to his side. “I think we should stop.”

  Abhay wanted to push her on the couch and go his way. But he also stopped. He knew this heat which had been generated would come out soon and it would be more enjoyable when both parties would be ready.

  He covered her small hand with his own. “Trust me, Naina,” he said and left.

  If only she could trust him.

  The next morning, Abhay slipped into his police uniform, his favourite red scarf and holstering his gun, he headed to his jeep.

  At the police station, he began his investigation of Ashish. It wasn’t because the guy had been involved with Naina personally, but because it was the logical place to start the investigation. He had asked Shukla to prepare a file on the guy. Abhay studied the data. He kept going through the papers till something caught his eye. Ashish was one of Mumbai’s leading architects and had great knowledge and information about his company’s land investments. A small subsidiary of the company had accused Ashish of embezzling funds. Mr Ashish toh khiladi bhaiya hain, he thought.

  The case had gotten some local media attention, but had ceased just as suddenly. He skimmed through the next few editions of the paper and discovered a small section explaining that the company had reached a settlement and the charges had been dropped.

  Abhay ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair, placing his booted feet on his desk while he considered the possibilities in the tik tik tik noise of the typewriter.

  Did Naina know about Ashish’s pa
st? Perhaps Naina had accidently discovered something about his business and Ashish might be worried about her disclosing the information. If his career was at stake, he had a viable motive. It was a theory worth investigating.

  Shukla came in grinning.

  “You look happy, Shuklaji,” commented Abhay. “Your beard’s gone all stiff.

  Shukla checked his beards with his hands. “Sirji, I have some great news for you which will close this Naina case. Aur bhi toh case solve karne hain, sirji. Aakhir ek aadmi ki bhains chori ho gayi hai.”

  Abhay laughed at his comment. “Kya baat kartey ho Shuklaji. I was in such a serious mood and you just changed everything. Tell me what news you have.”

  Shukla continued moving his fingers in his beard. “Sirji, I visited the Blossoms florist shop as per your instructions. The owner told me that the sunflowers were already wilting and he was about to throw them out but the customer insisted on buying them. Paid for them in cash too.”

  “And who was the customer?” Abhay asked impatiently.

  Shukla tapped his forehead in thought. “Umm… sirji, that guy told me that it was a girl. She had long black hair and dark eyes. And yes, she was wearing a brown jacket with a peculiar brooch on it. The shopkeeper remembered that it was in the shape of some bird, like a peacock.”

  “How does this news solve the case, Shuklaji?” snapped Abhay.

  “Sirji, I am telling you Naina is insane, and is doing all these things herself.”

  Naina woke up and looked outside her window. Every day in Allahabad had been an eventful one. She wondered what was in store for her today.

  She dressed carefully – brushed her hair, put on some makeup – but no matter what she did, when she looked in the mirror, all she saw was a ghost. Naina got to office, poured herself some tea and waved to Ria who was busy on the phone. Before sitting down, she took off her jacket to hang on the chair and noticed that it was already occupied by her brown jacket. She was surprised to see her brown jacket there. She didn’t remember leaving it at work. She threw her jacket across the table and started her work. She was engrossed in her papers when the phone rang.