The Sari Shop Widow (23 page)

Gingerly she touched the hard bump. She could clearly feel it through the fabric of his pants. “A man with steel in him, huh? Amazing what they can do with high-tech orthopedics.”

“The leg still aches like the devil if I don’t keep it moving and exercise it regularly. That’s why I joined the gym as soon as I got a chance the other day.”

“I’m a member of that gym myself. But I haven’t gone there in weeks.”

“You mean since Jeevan-kaka and I arrived.” He studied her for a long moment. “I had a feeling you work out to keep in shape.”

“Something puzzles me,” she said in an attempt to deflect his attention from her. His close scrutiny was making her self-conscious. “How come we never heard about that fire or any of what you just told me? I’d have been old enough to remember something like that. In fact, I’d never heard about a Jagdish and Ellen Shah ever.”

“Well, your father was already settled in the U.S. when the fire occurred. And I don’t think Jeevan-kaka told anyone other than his wife and children about the episode. I always got the feeling it was something private. Maybe he didn’t want to burden the extended family with what happened that night. Even now he hardly ever talks about it. I think it’s left a permanent scar.”

“Poor Jeevan-kaka.”

“He eventually built another house to replace the old homestead, and hired a new manager. Now that he’s semi-retired, he and Chandrika-kaki stay on the farm and his sons and grandsons manage the city businesses.”

“That much I know. So exactly when did you two become business partners?”

“About two years ago, when Jeevan-kaka decided he wanted to invest some money outside India.”

“I see. And his holdings outside India are substantial, I presume?”

“He’s a wealthy man. He and I own a couple of businesses together.”

“And they’re doing well?”

“Very well.”

“About that gun he’s been carrying around. What’s that for? He scared us to death when he brought it to the dinner table.”

Rishi looked a little hesitant. “A few years ago, his house was broken into by a band of dacoits. They were traveling from village to village, looting rich landowners’ homes. Jeevan-kaka was assaulted. Thank goodness he and Kaki weren’t killed, because there were servants in the house and they fended off the attack. But there have been a few killings in some rural areas.”

“He wasn’t kidding about it, then?”

“No. Dacoits have made a comeback and crime has increased in India. There’s even highway robbery occurring lately.”

She pulled in a sharp breath. “That’s regressing to primitive times.”

“It’s because of India’s population explosion,” he explained. “Too many poor people with no hope of jobs. They resort to crime to put food in their bellies.”

“It still constitutes extreme violence,” she retorted. “Were my uncle and aunt badly hurt?”

“Jeevan-kaka suffered a dislocated shoulder in the attack. That’s when he became paranoid and decided he needed a gun to protect himself. He’s also hired some extra
Gurkhas
as security guards. Personally I think it was a good idea. I feel better knowing he’s got some protection.” Probably because he noticed her wary expression, Rishi added, “He has a license to own the gun—and training in how to use it. He’s safe to have around your house.”

“A safe gun-toting septuagenarian Indian is an oxymoron.”

Rishi merely smiled at her remark.

“Tell me, how did Jeevan-kaka manage to smuggle it into the U.S.?”

“He didn’t smuggle it; he got special permission from the American embassy. He has some clout with them. They allowed him to bring it as long as he carried his papers and packed the pistol in his checked luggage.”

“He’s got friends in the most unexpected places.”

“But the authorities don’t take it lightly. I’m sure the FBI and CIA are watching him and me very closely while we’re here.”

Her eyes opened wide. “You mean our house and store could be under government surveillance because of an old man’s gun?” That’s all they needed to compound all the other problems that hounded them. It spooked her to think their phones could be tapped and cameras could be focused on their every move. She should have known her crazy uncle would come with plenty of baggage.

Rishi shrugged again. “I tried to tell him the U.S. was relatively safe, but he’s convinced there are dangerous elements lurking everywhere.”

“I’m not surprised. When Jeevan-kaka gets a bug in his ear, it’s hard to get rid of it.” But Anjali was still puzzled. “My uncle’s change in personality is amazing. With a gun in his possession he’s turned into a much softer man, and yet years ago, without a gun he was nastier than a pit bull. He used to be so unkind and thoughtless whenever he visited. He nearly gave my mother a stroke the last time he was here, and Sejal still trembles in his presence.”

Rishi laughed. “I’ve noticed. The poor girl’s terrified of him. I don’t know why. She has no reason to be frightened. Jeevan-kaka is mostly bark and no bite. He just likes to play the tough patriarch.”

“He plays the role to perfection. I used to be deathly scared of him, too. But not anymore, and neither is Nilesh.”

“You should encourage Sejal to get over her fear.”

“She’ll get over it in her own time. She’s smart and talented and she’s already beginning to blossom into an independent young lady.”

“You sound like a mother hen.”

“What can I say? I feel like one when I’m around Nilesh and Sejal. They’re so young compared to me.”

“Stop thinking you’re old, Anjali. You’re young and pretty and full of energy. In today’s world, anything under sixty is considered young and vital. Enjoy your youthful looks and good health.”

“Amen, Reverend Shah. Thanks for the sermon.” She smiled at him. “But you know what? I’m glad you told me all about you and Jeevan-kaka. I think I’ve found new respect for my uncle. He’s all right in my book…except for possibly bringing the FBI to our door.”

“He’s been all right in my book for many years,” he said.

“Talk about radical changes.” She turned to him with a bemused look. “Is it just old age or something else that’s altered his personality?”

Rishi remained silent.

“So what is it you’re not telling me?” she asked.

“I just told you everything.”

“Not quite. There’s an undercurrent of something between the two of you, I can sense it at times. I just can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Is ESP also one of your talents?”

“I’ll keep hounding you till you tell me everything. I’m family; I have a right to know.”

“But it’s not my place to tell you anything about your uncle.”

“What are you hiding?” Why was he always stonewalling when it came to information about her uncle?

“I’m not hiding anything,” he assured her.

“God, you’re infuriating.”

“If you’re that curious, you should talk to your uncle about it.”

“Oh, I will. Believe me, I will.” She got to her feet and picked up her pocketbook. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go retrieve my car and go home.”

“So, would you like to go to the gym with me tomorrow?” he asked, rising from the couch.

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes with suspicion.

“To work out, of course,” he replied mildly. “You just said you haven’t exercised in a while.”

“Okay, then. What time do you usually go?”

“Seven in the morning.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head. “I’m an early riser. When do you exercise if not in the mornings?”

“Afternoons on Mondays, when the store is closed, and two other days after work—very late in the evening.” She noticed his look of disapproval. “I know it’s bad to exercise just before dinner and bedtime, but there is no other time.”

“There certainly is: early in the morning.”

“I’m not a morning person. I’m a grouch until noon.”

“I know,” he said, laughing. “I noticed the expression on your face that morning when Jeevan-kaka disturbed you with his bell. You looked like a hibernating bear that had been poked with a sharp object.”

“Jeevan-kaka’s our very own Dennis the Menace.”

“So, you want to find out if maybe you can stand my company early in the day?” When she sighed, he said, “It’s one way of finding out what I look like first thing in the morning.”

“All right, wise guy, I’ll meet you at the gym tomorrow.” She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of telling him she sort of looked forward to it.

He already looked a little too smug.

Chapter 19

W
hen the alarm went off at 6:30 A.M., Anjali groaned and hit the shut-off button. Reluctant to open her eyes, she buried her face in the pillow, wondering why she’d promised to meet Rishi at such an ungodly hour. The man was nuts.

But a promise was a promise, and she certainly didn’t want him to think she was lazy, or that she was a quitter. So she sat up and willed the sleep out of her eyes.

A minute later she trudged to the bathroom, got the essentials out of the way, and put on a pair of gray gym shorts, a matching sports bra, and a pink T-shirt to cover it. After securing her hair into a ponytail she put on a touch of lipstick. She’d had her gym bag packed and ready the previous night, so she picked it up and went downstairs.

Jeevan-kaka and her parents were already in the kitchen, drinking steaming cups of tea. Three surprised pairs of eyes came to rest on her. Her mother was the first to ask, “What are you doing up so early?”

“I’m off to the gym.”

“But you never work out in the morning,” her father said.

“Well, with the contractors taking up our Mondays these days, I’ve decided to go in the mornings,” she said with a straight face. She wasn’t about to tell them she was going mostly because of Rishi.

“Why don’t you eat something before you go, Anju?” Jeevan-kaka suggested.

She shook her head. “I’ll eat
after
working out.” Before the three of them could say anything else, she strode out of the house and toward her car.

It had rained in the early hours of the morning. Beads of moisture clung to the car and the roads were wet. The cloud cover was still thick, making the air feel like a steam bath. She got to the gym in just ten minutes, but she was already late—it was a little past seven o’clock. Several cars were already in the parking lot. Morning people made her feel inadequate, especially when her eyes still felt gritty and she was tempted to turn around, go home, and climb back into bed. But she kept going forward.

A promise was a promise.

She caught sight of Rishi standing at the reception desk, talking to the young man behind it. Rishi had his back to her but the powerful shoulders, lean legs, and narrow waist were unmistakable. He wore black gym shorts and a black T-shirt.

Walking up to him, she wished him and the other guy a sunny good morning.

Rishi turned to her with a sardonic smile. “Good morning. You made it.” Then he looked pointedly at his wristwatch.

“Did you have any doubts?” she said, feigning a carefree grin.

“One or two.” He waved at the other guy. “Thanks for the information, Jeff.” Then he ushered her toward the treadmills. “Want to walk a little first? Maybe it’ll wake you up.”

“Are you saying I look like I just rolled out of bed?” she asked him testily. He smelled clean and manly and his face look freshly shaved. Not a hair on his head seemed out of place.

“No. You look fresh as a daisy,” he teased and powered up one of the treadmills for himself.

Before she had a chance to respond, he started the slow, warm-up pace on the machine. That’s when she noticed his leg. A jagged diagonal scar ran right over the kneecap—about ten inches long, at least an inch wide at the center and gradually tapering toward the ends. The skin surrounding it had the puckered look of severe burn damage. The size of the scar made her wince. It had to have been hell to have a burning beam pin his leg to the floor. And he was only a boy when he’d suffered that.

He was a brave man. She was beginning to find that out—little by little.

She caught his eye when she looked up and felt the embarrassing heat climb into her face. How could she have let herself stare so long? But he didn’t seem disturbed by it. She quickly climbed on the treadmill next to his and started her own warm-up rhythm before the more vigorous walking could begin. Within the next five minutes they were both walking at a brisk pace.

Some thirty minutes later, sweating and exhausted, she started to wind down, but Rishi was still going strong and looked like he’d been on a long stroll instead of the high speed he’d been keeping. The perspiration was running down his face and arms but he wasn’t gasping for breath like she was.

She noticed something else. Despite his impediment he managed well on the treadmill. He watched her shut off her machine. Ignoring his questioning lift of the brow, she stepped down and went to the adjoining room where she’d noticed the aerobics instructor conducting a class.

Although the class was more than halfway through its routine, she joined the two women in the last row and started going through the motions. She sometimes took the late-evening version of the same class, so she knew all the moves. The session lasted about fifteen minutes, but Anjali realized it felt good to stretch and bend and roll. She’d always enjoyed dancing, and the lively musical accompaniment made the aerobics workout more fun than a treadmill or any other mechanical apparatus.

When the final steps were over and the perky young instructor took them through the cooling-down process, Anjali was dead on her feet. She’d been away from the gym too long. Forced to admit to herself that Rishi’s idea had been the kick in the butt she’d badly needed, she bent forward with her hands braced on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

Grabbing her gym bag, she pulled out a bottle of water. After she gulped most of it down, she headed for the showers. On the way there she passed by the glass-enclosed area that housed the bench presses, converging arm machines, full-body exercisers, and a bunch of complicated equipment.

She saw Rishi using one of the full-body machines, his jaw clenched tight as he pitched his strength against the awesome-looking contraption. It had to be sheer torture on his leg when he pushed it to the extreme like that.