Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Because Preethi was a celebrity with a reasonable net worth, she was being held in the biggest prison in Bangalore, home to multiple high-profile convicts across politics, entertainment, and sports, where inmates with purchasing power had access to not just expensive booze and cigarettes, but also the latest gadgets and fashion.
Naina and Tejas followed a police officer through the building as he buzzed them into different corridors and hallways. Things were still tense between them, but Tejas had decided to let it slide for now. Preethi’s trial mattered more than his complicated relationship (or lack thereof) with Naina.
The cop stopped in front of a visiting room and nodded. “Your client is inside.”
“Thank you,” Tejas said. He opened the door for Naina, ushering her in first, then shut the door behind them. They sat across from Preethi, who wore jeans and a floral shirt that hung loosely on her bones. Her face was ashen and sickly, and her red eyes were tearstained.
“How are you doing, Preethi?” Naina asked kindly. “I hope no one’s been bothering you here. Our bosses requested you be given the best treatment possible.”
Preethi smiled faintly. “Everyone’s been nice for the most part. They let me wear my own clothes and bring me all the magazines I ask for.”
Convicts, even those who weren’t proven guilty yet, had to stick to the white plainclothes uniform—a concept meant to dehumanize them, Tejas was sure—but with a few pulled strings, most celebrities on trial could wear what they pleased. Hopefully, Preethi would never have to wear jail clothes.
“On the flip side,” Preethi went on, shrugging, “I hate the food here, and I miss going to the gym, not that I have the energy to do anything. The lack of sleep doesn’t help.”
“We’re going to get you out of here as soon as possible,” Naina promised. She folded her hands on the table and narrowed her eyes. “Before that, we all need to be on the same page about this case and the trial.”
They filled Preethi in on all of their findings and theories from the forensic reports, speaking to witnesses, and Tejas’s past experiences with celebrity murder cases.
When Naina eagerly brought up that the signs of struggle on Pai’s body likely pointed to a male killer, Preethi’s shoulders slumped.
“I know you mean well, Naina, but my Instagram has a hundred videos of my workout routine and my gym sponsorship deals. And Rohith is”—she cringed—“was never one for a fitness routine.”
Tejas’s stomach sank at the look on Naina’s face. He’d brought this up to her earlier, but there was no harm in pointing out the potential inconsistencies.
“About Rohith,” Tejas said, biting his lip as he moved on to the next topic. “Do you know why he offered you the lead role after so many years of radio silence?”
“It was curious,” Preethi said. “He told me I was the right fit for this role because no other actress in my age group had the build or experience to play a warrior princess—which made sense to me. He said enough time had passed since our breakup and the ensuing fight that we could let the past go, move forward, and be grown-ups about the situation.”
Naina’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, I don’t know Pai personally, but did that sound genuine to you, coming from him, or were you suspicious at all?”
Preethi fidgeted in her seat. “Honestly, it was both. Logically, I knew he was right, because any other actress would’ve had to train for months to get to my fitness level. And yet I wondered if there was something more to it…and maybe it would finally be my chance at closure.”
“Fair enough,” Naina said, moving on to the next line of questioning, after which Tejas cleared his throat and asked about the tensions between Gopal and Pai.
“Oh, that was nothing new,” Preethi said, dismissing it with a wave of her hand.
“It’s no secret Gopal hated the idea of working with me because of my reputation.
He was distant and cold the entire time we were on set, but he was already contractually bound to the project before they brought me on, so he couldn’t do anything except try to fight Rohith on his directorial vision. ”
“Do you think he could have had anything to do with the murder?” Naina lifted a brow. “Especially since the Krishnans’ trailer was right across from Pai’s?”
Preethi leaned back in her seat, thinking. “I don’t know. He’s a big, strong man for sure, but he and Rohith were close. Why would Gopal jeopardize that simply because he hates me? He could have just dropped out and broken the contract if things were that bad. God knows he has enough money.”
“Okay.” Tejas exhaled loudly, then slid three pages across the table toward Preethi. “Take a look at this.”
She flipped through the screenshots of the anonymous hate account, her eyes widening with every passing second. “I knew it was bad enough on Instagram and Twitter, but Reddit too?”
Naina leaned forward and pointed at the date of AllegedlyYourBestTea89’s hate posts about her. “This was their first post shortly after they created the account. You see the date here?”
Preethi frowned as she looked over it. “That’s the morning of the murder. Was this before or after the news broke?”
“They posted it an hour after the official police report, but before the news went viral,” Naina said. “Which means this could be someone directly connected to the murder.”
Preethi’s face blanched. “Even if this is a lead, how would we find out who’s behind the account?”
“We’ve got IT working on it,” Tejas said, his jaw clenched. His favorite tech intern had already warned him that it was next to impossible to get someone’s IP off just a Reddit post, but Tejas had asked him to try his best.
Naina glanced at her iPad, then asked Preethi, “We were hoping for some character witnesses for you. People who could vouch that you’re a good person, talk you up to the judge.”
“Oh,” Preethi whispered, frowning.
“Anyone in mind? Maybe a close friend, or someone you’ve worked with?”
She hesitated, then said, “I don’t have a lot of connections in the industry anymore, and my family and friends outside of Sandalwood haven’t checked in on me since the news broke. Well”—she smiled softly—“except for Sandhya.”
That name sounded familiar. Tejas was racking his brain trying to place Sandhya when Naina spoke, her voice hushed. “Wait. Sandhya, Jagannath’s daughter?”
“Yes,” Preethi said. “She’s such a sweet girl.
She visited the set with her dad a few times, and we bonded over our love for Pilates.
She texted me to check in while I was on bail, but she…
” Preethi sighed. “She was close with Rohith too, having worked with him while shadowing her father, and who knows what lies Jagannath is telling her about me now. Plus, I doubt he would let her step foot in court. He’s very protective of her. ”
Tejas recalled how Jagannath had spoken to Sandhya during their questioning. Protective? More like controlling. “If we subpoena her—” Tejas started.
“Jagannath’s a politician now,” Naina reminded him. “He probably has more sway with the court than we ever could. He’ll make sure the judge dismisses the order, unless we spring it last-minute.”
With a silent sigh, Tejas looked at the iPad in front of Naina. “Anything else to share, Preethi?”
Preethi shook her head, and Naina locked the iPad.
As they stood, Preethi added, “I…I’m anxious about the trial, but I feel more confident in the two of you than I was in my previous lawyers.” She smiled. “You’re good together.”
Naina coughed. “Uh, thanks.”
Tejas felt his lips widening in a smile before he remembered that Naina disagreed with Preethi’s sentiments. She’d made it clear enough that there was no “together” as far as she and Tejas were concerned.
They exited the prison and were welcomed by the late afternoon sunshine and the cooling November breeze that brought with it the promise of a cozy, cuddly winter. “Back to the office,” Tejas said stiffly, kicking a rock out of his way with his shoe, his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah,” Naina agreed. “Maybe we could head to the archive room and look up old case precedents, on the off-chance this hate account lead goes nowhere.”
Tejas gulped. Given the heavy fog of tension between them and the gravitas of this case, it probably wasn’t a good idea to be in close proximity to Naina in a dark, isolated room…alone.
But hey, maybe this was another chance to confront her and get the closure he needed so they could focus on the case and nothing more. So he exhaled and said, “All right. Let’s go.”