The Forbidden Daughter (37 page)

Don’t even go there,
Isha warned herself. She couldn’t afford to think like that. Her baby couldn’t be dead, not now, not when Isha had fought so hard to keep her alive in her womb against all odds, not when she’d made sure the baby had a decent home and a happy life, not when she was surrounded by love despite everything that was going on around her.

Diya’s birthday was less than three weeks away. Would she see her first birthday at all?

Sheila abruptly walked into the bedroom and flipped on the light switch. She carried a cup and saucer in her hand. “Isha, you can’t sit in the dark all day,” she scolded.

The room was flooded with light and Isha blinked at Sheila, snapping out of her misery for a second. “I don’t really care if there’s light or not.”

“Look, Sundari made you some refreshing
gavthee chah
.”

Lemon-grass tea.

Isha ignored the tea as well as Sheila’s poor attempts at cheerfulness. Despite her usual impeccable appearance, Isha knew THE

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Sheila was just as worried as she. Her eyes, too, were puffy from weeping.

“Where’s Priya?” Isha asked. Since Diya had disappeared she had felt the need to keep a strict eye on her other child. She’d kept her close to herself and hadn’t even sent her to school that morning. What if the kidnapper was out there, watching, waiting? What if he took Priya, too? It was inconceivable.

“Priya’s fine,” Sheila replied. “She’s at our house, playing with the boys. She’s being watched closely by the servants and Rambo.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Rambo is turning into an excellent guard dog. He doesn’t let any strangers within fifty feet of our property. Besides, Harish just called there and talked to Priya. He’s worried about her safety, too, you know.”

“But the kidnapper could be watching your house.”

Sheila inhaled a deep breath, clearly summoning some patience. “We
had
to send her there, Isha, and you know why. It’s not healthy for a child to be surrounded by so much tension.

She needed to be with her cousins and Rambo.”

“Okay. As long as she’s safe . . .” Sheila was right, of course, but Isha was still worried about Priya. She was terrified of losing her, too. “Where’s Harish?” He had become her solid, un-shakeable source of support. He was not only the first to arrive with help, but he was holding her hand through this crisis more than anyone else. Somehow she’d come to depend on him much more than she’d expected to.

He was right. This was
their
problem now.

“Harish is in the drawing room.” Sheila inclined her head toward the door. “He canceled his appointments and spent most of the day here, helping Sundari and me clean up the mess in the house. After that he’s been on the phone, talking to all kinds of people, trying to get any information he can.”

“He’s been such a comfort.” Isha glanced at Sheila. “And so have you . . . and Sundari.”

“Phillip, his friend, has been working hard on our behalf, 272
Shobhan Bantwal

too.” Sheila offered her the cup. “Here, have some tea. You’ll feel better.”

Shaking her head, Isha hugged the dress even closer. “I’m not hungry.”

Clucking like a mother hen, Sheila sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t sleep at all last night after you found out Diya was missing, and you haven’t eaten a thing all day. Come on, have a biscuit at least. You need to keep up your strength.”

Isha laid her tired head on Sheila’s shoulder. “How can I eat or drink when my baby could be dying of hunger? The last meal Diya ate was before she was put to bed last evening.” Her voice wobbled.

Sheila laid the cup on the nightstand so she could put an arm around Isha’s waist. “She’ll be home soon. Patil should be getting back into town, and I’m sure he’ll do everything he can to find her. Palgaum’s entire police force will be looking for her.”

“I wish we could hand over the evidence to someone now and have them arrest Karnik. I want this to be over.”

“But we can’t hand it over to anyone but Patil. We don’t know who the rotten apple in the police department is. There could be more than one—a whole bunch. We can’t risk it now.”

“But the kidnapper hasn’t called or anything.” She noticed the time on the clock next to her bed. It read 6:55 PM. “It’s been more than twenty hours since Diya disappeared and there’s no communication whatsoever. He could have killed her by now.

He killed Nikhil, didn’t he?”

“Shh, don’t say that! Don’t even think that. He wants something you have, and as long as that’s of value to him, he won’t hurt her. She’s his insurance policy.”

“Then why hasn’t he called yet? I hate that dreadful old man, Karnik. I know he’s behind this. And yet the police won’t do anything about it.”

“Officially they can’t do anything.”

“It’s so obvious that he’s the villain. What more proof do they need? This thing occurred right after I confronted him. Nikhil’s murder happened immediately after he lodged a complaint THE

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about Karnik with the police. The connection is so clear and still they won’t as much as question him—not even when it’s staring them in the face.”

“You and I know it’s Karnik. At this point, I bet the police are pretty sure about it, too. But he can claim he knows nothing about this, Isha. He could have hired any petty criminal to carry out his orders. What can the police do with no evidence of any kind?”

“But I
have
evidence—”

“A bunch of names and dates,” interrupted Sheila. “What does that prove? Don’t forget Karnik is a respected man in our town and has considerable influence in government circles. And so do all those people whose names appear on your list.”

“But the police are law-enforcement officials, for God’s sake!

Can’t they do
something?
”

“Not
can’t,
but
won’t,
if they’re being bribed handsomely by Karnik.”

“I’m willing to give every rupee I have if it’ll bring my baby back.” The waiting was so frustrating. Every minute felt like a lifetime.

Sheila handed her a clean handkerchief. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything, but since you brought up the matter of money . . .

I . . . um . . . think I should mention it. Baba and Ayee have offered to pay a ransom if the kidnapper demands it.”

Isha pushed away from Sheila, her eyes wide. “I don’t believe this!”

“I’m not making this up, Isha. Baba himself called me this morning. Last night when I rang them to tell them what happened, Ayee got very upset. She must have talked him into making the offer. They want Diya returned to you.”

“I don’t want their money! I don’t care how upset Ayee is and I care even less about Baba’s sentiments. This is the child they both loathe. Now all of a sudden they want to rescue her?”

“Both of them are beginning to recognize the mistakes they’ve made, Isha.”

“Then let them stew in their regrets. It’ll serve them right. I don’t want their help or one single
paisa
of their precious money.”

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Shobhan Bantwal

Sheila put a hand on Isha’s arm. “Look, I know you’re upset, but please try to look at it rationally.”

“Do
they
have a single rational bone in their bodies? Tell me what’s rational about carelessly aborting a baby because it happens to be a girl.”

“Ayee’s brush with death and Priya’s valiant efforts to save her have changed Ayee’s attitude completely, and consequently Baba’s, too,” argued Sheila. “If you see him now, you’ll realize he’s not quite the same man he used to be when Nikhil was alive.”

Isha snorted in disdain. “Fine time to come to their senses, isn’t it? Now that they know my child could be tortured or dead, they’ve decided they want her back? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Harish must have heard her tirade because he appeared at the door. His troubled gaze settled on Isha for a second, then went to Sheila. “What’s going on?”

Sheila sighed. “I just informed her about Baba’s offer to pay a ransom if necessary.”

Harish took a cautious step inside. “And?”

Isha’s head immediately snapped up. “I don’t want Ayee and Baba’s help in any way, shape, or form.” The tears were falling now, fast and furious.

Hands thrust inside his pockets, Harish stood for a moment, obviously turning her words over in his mind. “But you may be forced to accept their help, Isha.”

“No! I’ve already done more than my share of compromising by letting my children visit Ayee during her illness. I want nothing more to do with those self-centered, heartless people.”

Before Harish or Sheila could respond, his phone rang. He flipped it open and answered. Both women sat motionless, hoping to catch every bit of Harish’s conversation. His face looked grim as he listened and responded in monosyllables. “All right.”

He sighed. “Just keep me informed.”

The instant he hung up, Isha looked up at him. “Is Diya . . . ?”

Her voice came out in a frantic whisper. “Is my baby dead?”

He pocketed the phone and shook his head. “No, Isha. Patil is on a flight back from Delhi. Unfortunately, he has to change THE

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flights in Mumbai and there’s only one flight from Mumbai to Palgaum each day, and that doesn’t arrive until early morning.

Phillip took a taxi to the airport so he can wait for Patil to arrive and catch him before Patil has a chance to go to his office.”

“What took the man so long to get out of Delhi? Doesn’t he know this is a matter of life and death?”

“Patil was attending some police officers’ conference and he was a special speaker. Unfortunately he’s the only one I trust, so I asked Phillip to wait for him to come back before producing the records. The minute he arrives in Palgaum, Phillip will personally hand them over.”

Isha buried her face in her hands. It was fifteen and a half months since Nikhil was gone. It had taken that long for this day to arrive. Was Karnik going to get what was coming to him?

Was Nikhil’s death finally going to be avenged?

But at the moment, that fact was secondary to finding her child. She dried her eyes and nose. “But what about Diya? Is Karnik holding her hostage?”

“Karnik is too clever to hold her hostage. He no doubt has someone else doing his dirty work.” Harish glanced at the tea in the cup and the biscuits sitting in the saucer. “Isha, you should eat something.”

“The thought of eating makes me sick.” She looked up at him. “Would you be able to eat if it were
your
baby that had disappeared?”

Turning to Sheila, he asked, “Would you mind if I have a few minutes alone with Isha?”

“Not at all.” Sheila rose to her feet, looking relieved. “Please see if you can talk some sense into her and get her to eat something.” She not only left them alone but, after exchanging a meaningful glance with Harish, closed the door behind her, assuring them complete privacy.

Harish walked over to occupy the spot Sheila had vacated.

“Isha, I know this is hard for you to believe, but I consider Diya my own. I’ve seen her and cared for her since she was a day-old infant. I’ve come to love her and Priya as much as any adoptive father can.”

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Shobhan Bantwal

When he got no response from Isha, he wrapped his arms around her. “You already know I love you, too. I want what’s best for you. And what you need now is some nourishment.”

“I’m nauseated by the sight of food.”

“That’s because an empty stomach produces excess acid. If you eat a little, the nausea will go away. I promise.” He pried the baby’s dress away from her and laid it aside. Then he leaned forward and picked up the cup and saucer. “Do it for me if not for yourself.”

Unable to resist his caring touch and his gentle plea, Isha took the cup and sipped the tea. She hated admitting it, but it tasted good. It had turned tepid, but the sweet, milky brew Sundari had made for her was astonishingly soothing as it trickled down her throat and into her stomach. Maybe she did need nourishment. All the while, she was conscious of Harish’s strong arm holding her up.

“Now the biscuits,” he said, and waited till she’d crunched on them and washed them down with the last of the tea. “Good girl.” He smiled. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She nodded. “You were right. I feel better.”

“Now, I want you to lie down and rest for a while. You haven’t had a moment’s sleep.”

“But I can’t sleep until I have Diya back.” She tossed him an accusing look. “
You
haven’t slept, either.”

“I’ve become accustomed to that since I was an intern.” He put her empty cup back on the table. “I’ll give you something to help you sleep.” As soon as her mouth opened to protest, he clamped a hand over her shoulder. “Doctor’s orders! The minute I hear something, I’ll wake you.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely.”

She watched him open the door and leave. Exhaustion was gnawing at her brain, making it feel like a giant ball of wool.

She’d had a throbbing ache around her temples for hours. It had set in the moment she’d realized Diya was gone. It had steadily become worse. But it was easing a bit now. As usual, he was THE

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right. Some food and rest were what she needed. They would make her function better. But the need for assurance of her baby’s safety was vastly greater than the need for rest.

A few minutes later, Harish walked in with his medical bag, rummaged through it, and located a bottle of pills. Shaking a single tablet into his palm, he went to the kitchen for a glass of water and returned in seconds. “Take this and lie down.”

She obeyed him and swallowed the tiny pill, albeit with some hesitation. What if it made her sleep for hours? What if there was news of the baby and she slept through it? But then he’d promised to wake her. And she trusted him—with her life and Diya’s. He took the glass and motioned to her to lie down.

Again she followed his instructions with no protest. She was too exhausted to put up a fight, anyway. Besides, it felt good to be taken care of by a man. And something surprised her: Harish’s firmness in dealing with her. She’d rarely seen the strict, no-nonsense Doctor-saheb demeanor before. But instead of resenting it, she realized she liked it. Side by side with his humane qualities, there was a tough-as-steel backbone in him.