Page 53 of Born in Grief

She heard the front door open, voices filtering through to them. Amay got to his feet and went to greet his friends.

Virat raised a hand in greeting when he caught sight of her sitting on the balcony. Ishaan didn’t bother with even that. She turned back towards the ocean sliver, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes.

“Have a moment?” Virat was standing behind her, his hands tucked into his frayed jeans, a t-shirt that screamed ‘Goa is life’ hanging on for dear life to his chest. The man needed new clothes. Couldn’t he afford them?

“Sure,” she replied, looking down at her feet and shrugging. “I have nothing but moments.”

She felt him pause at that before taking the chair Amay had vacated. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Amay and Ishaan in a heated conversation by the fridge. She thought she caught the words ‘corn’ and ‘chips’ but she couldn’t be sure. If they had corn chips, she really hoped they’d share. She’d always loved them.

“Do you know if Varun was still in touch with his group of friends from school?”

Virat’s question had her rambling, meandering brain come to a screeching halt.

“Friends from school?” she repeated dumbly staring at him.

Virat nodded, nothing showing in his face and yet, she could sense his impatience and irritation with her. The silent judgement was starting to get to her. She preferred Ishaan’s open hatred.

“Of course, he’s in touch with them. He was, I mean,” she corrected herself. “They’re his best friends.”

“Even now? After all these years?”

She glanced pointedly at where Ishaan was gesturing wildly with his hands at Amay who seemed to be shaking his head with disgust.

“Point taken,” Virat said with a small smile. “So, whatever Varun was involved in, they’d know about it.”

“If Varun was involved in something, they wouldn’t just know about it. They’d be hand-in-glove with him, waist deep in the muck.”

Virat nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense,” he murmured. “Ish!” he called out, cutting through whatever argument was happening at the far end of the room. “I need you over here.”

The guys walked over, Ishaan giving Amay one last shove to the shoulder like a petulant teenager.

“What?” he asked Virat truculently, not even bothering to acknowledge Dhrithi’s presence.

“You’re still in touch with the Crestwood crowd, aren’t you?”

“If by that you mean, I cross them at Otter’s Club or elsewhere and we nod at each other, sure.”

She could practically see the wheels turn in Virat’s head as they spoke. “I have all their official information already. I need you to get me something else.”

Ishaan’s eyes sharpened, an unholy gleam lighting them up. “If it means we get to finger those bastards, I’m game.”

“Easy tiger,” Amay murmured. “Don’t do something that gets you in trouble. All it takes is one mistake…”

Ishaan glanced disdainfully at him. “I don’t make mistakes.”

Dhrithi laughed. All three men turned to look at her, surprise darkening their eyes, almost like they’d forgotten she was there. She stopped laughing.

Ishaan turned his back on her, dismissively. “Whom shall we start with?”

“Let’s start with Naveen,” Virat answered, his gaze still on Dhrithi. “Varun and he were best friends.”

Dhrithi shook her head. “Not in the recent past.”

Interest lit Virat’s gaze as he leaned forward. “I didn’t catch a hint of that. How recent?”

“They had a massive fight a week or so before the accident.” Her cheeks warmed at the thought of what she was going to disclose. “They had a threesome with a common friend and it turned out that she preferred Naveen to Varun, in bed and out.”

“Sparsha Bhavnani?” Virat asked.

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