Blood Feud Read online

  Do not blame God for having created the tiger but thank him for not giving it wings.

  Indian proverb

  Chapter 13

  The crisp morning air poured into the room and Marlee shivered, already accustomed to the warmer climate. Barry stood before her wearing khaki shorts and a navy t-shirt, sweat rolling off his face from the humidity. He had bags under his eyes, an impatient look on his face, and he smelled like a pile of dirty sweat socks.

  “Are you going to let me in?” Barry snapped, bad breath wafting from his downturned mouth.

  “Uh, sure,” Marlee said, stepping aside to let him in along with his duffel bag. “What are you doing here? You said you weren’t coming to visit until spring break.”

  “I thought you might need some backup. Last time we talked, it sounded like you were getting into some trouble that you wouldn’t be able to get out of. I talked to my chief, and he gave me vacation time to come help you.” Barry threw his belongings on the chair and plopped down on the bed.

  “But how did you get a visa to get into India? My university really had to pull some strings to get mine in a couple weeks. Yet, you’re here in a couple days after I talked to you. What gives?”

  Barry shrugged, massaging the back of his neck. “I know some people.”

  Marlee was already getting irritated with her visitor. He dropped everything to come to India because he thought he needed to save her from herself. She hated that type of chauvinism masked as chivalry. “You know, I’ve been handling everything pretty well on my own. If you’d called first, I would’ve told you it wasn’t necessary to come here. I’ve got everything under control.”

  Barry gave her a dismissive nod. “You mind if I take a shower? I’ve been traveling for twenty-four hours straight. It was almost a blizzard when I left home. I wasn’t sure the plane would be able to depart, but we made it out of Sioux Falls before the airport closed. Now I’m here, and it’s humid as hell.” He wiped his oily face on the shoulder of his t-shirt.

  “Did you hear a word I said? Do you have any idea how offensive it is to have someone swoop in to take care of you because they don’t think you can take care of yourself? How would you like it if someone did that to you, Barry?”

  “I’d love that. It would be fun to be irresponsible and throw caution to the wind just because I felt like it. Then I could call someone to complain and have them rush in to help. I would honestly love it if that ever happened to me. Now for the love of God, can I use your shower?” Barry rose from the bed, and, after Marlee motioned him toward the bathroom, he lugged his duffle bag into the bathroom and closed the door.

  She was livid. How dare he accuse her of complaining just so he would feel compelled to rescue her. When she called Barry, it was to update him on what was going on in her life. Wasn’t that what people in relationships did? And what was all this nonsense about him wanting to be rescued sometime?

  Marlee paced around the room, preparing the argument she would launch at Barry the second he stepped out of the bathroom. He’d brought it on himself by being a dick from the minute he arrived. It was good to know how he really felt, that he thought she was some helpless creature in need of saving. How did he think she’d survived in the twenty years since she graduated from college? Knowing Barry, he probably thought there was some other man who helped her out of her so-called self-imposed problems.

  Barry held out his hand, palm first, as he walked out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry. I’m in a shitty mood because of all the travel. After I get a few hours of sleep, I’ll be good as new. Is it okay if I take a nap here? I’ll find a hotel later today?”

  Marlee opened her mouth to attack but thought better of it. Barry apologized, which was rare for him, so he must be feeling badly about what he said. She would let his comments go for now, but they would be addressing them later. For now, her best bet was to go to her new office. “Sure, take a nap. Make yourself comfortable. I need to go meet my new department members and get settled into my office. I’ll be back later, and we can get some lunch.” He was stretched on the unmade bed, already asleep as Marlee crept out of the room.

  Five minutes was all it took to arrive outside her office building. In the excitement of Barry arriving, she’d forgotten how early it was. The building was dark, and the door was locked. Marlee used her key and walked into the darkened building, giving her an uneasy feeling when she remembered finding Raj nearly dead in the faculty lounge.

  No one else appeared to be in the building. It was quiet as a tomb, which did nothing to soothe Marlee’s nerves as thoughts of Raj and his assault and eventual death passed through her mind. She found her office and opened the unlocked door. The room was a little bigger than her miniature bathroom back in her apartment. A desk about the size of a TV tray faced a window with yellowed blinds, and a three-legged stool was placed in front.

  There was no computer, which Marlee had been advised of before leaving the United States. As part of the deal with Delhi University, Midwestern State University agreed to provide Marlee with a state-of-the-art laptop for her use while in India. They didn’t provide a printer, but since MSU was focusing on becoming a paperless institution, they did not see that as a problem. She wasn’t sure what to do about a syllabus but would address that with the others in her department today.

  Since the room was so tiny, she didn’t bother to unpack the few mementos from home she brought with her. Marlee had framed photos of her cat, her family, and of herself in front of the Eiffel Tower.

  After settling into her new office, which took a grand total of five minutes, Marlee wandered down the darkened hall toward the departmental office. To her surprise, a young female sat at a computer quietly typing as fast as her slim fingers would allow. When she heard Marlee, she jumped and moved to turn off the computer.

  “Hello. I’m Marlee McCabe, and I’m teaching American Criminology this semester,” Marlee said by way of introduction.

  The young woman briefly glanced at Marlee and continued to close out her document and log off the computer. “Wait, you don’t have to finish what you were doing on my account.”

  “It is fine, Miss. I was merely getting some work finished before the work day begins. My name is Meena, and I am the department secretary here in the Sociology Department. Welcome to our department, to our university, and to India!” she said, her anxiety turning to forced cheerfulness. “I hope you are settling in to your apartment. Is there anything you need?”

  Marlee jumped on Meena’s question as a means to introduce the subject of Raj into the conversation. Since it was so early, she doubted much scuttlebutt was floating around the university yet. “Raj Sharma was showing me around the university and helping me get acclimated to Delhi. I heard he was injured and may not be on campus for a few days.”

  If Meena knew anything about Raj’s death or previous assault, she was not ready to share her information. “That is so sad. I do hope he will have a quick recovery. We will all miss him while he is gone.”

  “I have a meeting with the department members at 9:00 a.m. What time does everyone usually arrive?” Marlee asked, hoping to chat with some of them prior to the formal meeting.

  “Many do not arrive until afternoon. I am not sure who will attend the meeting with you this morning.” Meena looked around the room, clicking her short fingernails on the desktop.

  “Well, I won’t bother you any further. I know you probably have a lot of work to do. This looks like a very busy department, from what I observed when I toured the building.” Marlee knew one thing about department secretaries and that was if you want to find out anything from them you have to kiss their ass. Most felt overworked and underappreciated because, in fact, they were. Much of the faculty at MSU paid lip service to the importance of their secretaries but placed far too many responsibilities on them.

  A smile spread across Meena’s pretty face, unaccustomed to acknowledgement of her hard work. “Yes, it is a very busy department, and I have much to do. But if th
ere is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask me.”

  Marlee smiled back at her. “Before I go, do you have any advice on how to interact with the department members? The members of my department back in the United States were very complex, and it took me a good deal of time to figure out how to act around them. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you give me some pointers?”

  Warming to the request, Meena pulled her chair closer to Marlee and assumed an even more straightened position. “There are ten people in the department. Two of them are on sabbatical this semester, one is on maternity leave, and four are full professors whom you will not see much. The four have their research agendas, and, when they are even on campus, they are not likely to talk to someone who will be here for a short time. Pardon me if I am speaking too frankly.”

  “Not at all, Meena. I’m very interested in everything you have to say. The department secretaries are the ones who know the most about the faculty and the inner workings of the university.”

  Meena’s smile reappeared and again she inched her chair closer to Marlee. “You will be dealing primarily with three associate professors as well as a few teaching assistants. The three professors could not be more different from each other. Professor Chopra has taught here for eight years. He is from India, but frequently travels to England and Australia. He is recently divorced but does not have much involvement in the lives of his children. Even at Christmas, he travels abroad by himself and does not spend any time with them. He is a nice, kind, man but at times I find him a bit strange.”

  “How so?” Marlee enquired. Any extra detail of information she could garner would help her in understanding her role as a professor as well as how to get along with the others in the department. Plus, it was just fun to hear people’s interpretations of others.

  “He studies feminism. I know it is part of the discipline of sociology, but it seems strange for a man to be so concentrated on that area of research.”

  “And the others?” Marlee asked.

  “Professor Appleton has been with the department for five years. I like her very much, and she is a favorite among the students. Her husband also is a professor and is in the engineering department. His name is Professor Kingsley. They have three children and are from England.

  Dr. Patel is the other professor you will deal with on a daily basis. This is his second year at university and during that time has been interviewing for positions out of the country even though he is from India. He keeps to himself and does not share much about his personal life. I do not believe he is married, but I am not positive. When we have celebrations on campus, he never attends.” Meena gave a satisfied sigh after completing her rundown on the faculty with whom Marlee would have the most interaction.

  “Thank you, Meena. This helps me so much. Are you sure you don’t know anything about Raj or when he’s coming back to work?” Marlee was certain Meena knew more than she initially offered. Since they had bonded through compliments and gossip, Marlee hoped the secretary would now be willing to share what she knew. “I’m just so worried about him.”

  Meena held her breath as she looked long and hard at Marlee. After a good, long stare, she decided she could trust the visiting faculty member and revealed what she knew. “Dean Reddy called me at my home earlier this morning to tell me that Raj is deceased.” Her hand flew to her mouth as she blinked back tears.

  “Dead? Are you sure about that?” Marlee asked, knowing full well that Raj passed away the previous night as she, Riya, and Dax looked on. “I knew he was injured and in the hospital, but was well enough to move home.”

  “That is correct, but according to Dean Reddy, Raj took a turn for the worse and passed away at home. It is suspected that his internal injuries were worse than originally diagnosed by the doctor. He was surrounded by his family when he passed.”

  “That’s just terrible,” Marlee said, trying to act as if she did not already know of Raj’s passing. “Did you know Raj well?”

  “Yes, quite well. He is my husband’s cousin,” Meena said. “My surname is also Sharma.”

  “Oh, no! Did you know that he was beaten up twice before he died?” Marlee asked, trying to elicit as much family information as possible since this might be her only chance of finding out more about Raj’s parents and brothers.

  “Yes. And I also know you were taken to jail upon the suspicion that you were violent toward him. Then Raj confirmed that you did not assault him, and you were released from jail.” Meena looked at the floor, her body language unreadable except for the grief which permeated every part of her body.

  “Who do you think assaulted Raj?” Marlee asked.

  “I do not know for sure. Raj had few friends and many enemies. Many people here at university were envious of him and thought he had been unfairly promoted to his position,” Riya said.

  “Unfairly promoted?”

  “He only worked at university for a year before his promotion to liaison between university and the visiting professors. There were at least five other graduate students with the Liaison Office who were deserving of that promotion and had been there longer. No clear reason was given for choosing Raj over the others, and that led to many rumors and speculation,” Meena said. “People said very unkind things about Raj and our families.”

  “I know I’m prying, but would you please tell me what was said? I really want to know more about Raj and why he died,” Marlee said.

  “Why he died? He died of internal injuries from the beating he sustained, of course. It is as simple as that. As for what was said, it is too scandalous to repeat. Just let me say that the words put Raj and our family in the worst possible light.” Meena wiped away a stray tear that inched down her cheek.

  “Meena, did you know that Raj was a homosexual?” Marlee asked, knowing that she knew but was unsure if she would confirm it.

  A weak laugh escaped from Meena’s mouth as she dried her eyes. “How did you find out?”

  Raj had told Marlee himself of his homosexuality, and she was not sure if she should breach his confidence. Since he was dead, and nothing could come from it further, she decided to share it with Raj’s cousin. “He told me himself just a couple nights ago. Raj had been beaten by his brothers when the family was told by Swami, the astrologist, that Raj was gay. The two brothers beat him, and his father told him to leave before the brothers came back and killed him.”

  Meena inhaled a deep breath as she thought of what to say about her extended family members. “That is very possible. It would be most unfavorable if Raj’s parents and brothers discovered his homosexuality, or if anyone at university knew. He knew many people and had more than his share of enemies. All I can tell you for sure is that Raj was a liar, through and through,” Meena said, the tears in her eyes long gone.

  Keep five yards from a carriage, ten yards from a horse, and a hundred yards from an elephant; but the distance one should keep from a wicked man cannot be measured.

  Indian proverb

  Chapter 14

  “What do you mean? Has he lied to you?” Marlee asked, her interest piqued further since Meena had confirmed what she suspected.

  The department secretary suppressed a snort. “Raj has lied to everyone he knows. He told his parents he was dying of cancer, so they would let him move back into the family home. He told my husband’s parents he desperately needed money to pay off someone who threatened to kill him. We later found out none of these things were true. Raj tells lies to benefit himself, even if it is easy for us to find out later that he is lying.”

  “What did he do when he was confronted with the truth?” Marlee wasn’t sure how much she should disclose about Raj’s purported gambling problem and decided to keep it to herself.

  “He told more lies to cover the first one. By the time we figured out that his cover story was a lie, Raj had moved onto something else. He has caused everyone in my family a great deal of pain. I am sorry. I should not talk of the dead in this manner,” Meena said, lowering her
head.

  “I won’t tell anyone what you said. And I don’t think you were speaking ill of Raj, just being truthful. You said Raj told his parents a big lie, so they would let him move back home. Was there a reason why they hadn’t planned to let him move back?”

  “About a year earlier, his brothers asked him to leave, unbeknownst to their parents. Raj’s brothers knew he was causing his parents undue stress. He was in charge of the family finances for six months and during that time had nearly put the family into financial ruin. Their parents could not bring themselves to evict Raj, so his brothers took it upon themselves to do so.”

  “So, he lied about having cancer, so they would let him come home?” Marlee wondered how many other people Raj had swindled during his short life. “What happened when it became clear that he didn’t have cancer?”

  “His parents forgave him, as they often did. They thought if he got married he would grow up and become more responsible. Raj’s parents let him return to the home on the condition that he would marry in the next year. He did not have any other options for housing, so he agreed. I am sure he would have found a way to get out of it.” Meena shook her head from side to side.

  “Did you know he invited me to his home and made me meet with an astrologer?” Marlee asked.

  Meena giggled despite the somber topic of conversation. “Yes, I heard about that. You were not a match, and Swami had to tell my aunt and uncle that it would not be prudent for you to marry.”

  “You heard about that?”

  “Everyone in the family heard about it. We were all laughing about it. Then Raj was injured and in hospital, and we focused on him getting well.”

  Marlee wasn’t sure whether to enjoy the Sharma family’s sense of humor or be offended that she was the butt of the joke. “Did you know Swami told Raj’s parents that he was gay?”