Chapter Nineteen
Saffi didn’t extend another invitation to Kapoor regarding the case until mid-April.
Andino and Taylor were treading on her very last nerve, so Saffi welcomed any distraction at that point.
The two of them were under the impression that it was a good idea to go straight to Olsen.
They hadn’t been able to get a clear answer as to whether he’d been at the second party, so they wanted to get his statement.
Saffi, of course, didn’t agree. When they found no evidence that he was guilty, like Saffi suspected they would, she doubted he would keep his mouth shut about it.
A prideful man hated nothing more than to be accused of something he didn’t do.
Olsen’s notorious temper and large following would make it infinitely more difficult to continue investigating, especially since Kapoor would then be given a heads-up about who else they were investigating.
It wasn’t entirely their fault, however.
Saffi still hadn’t told them that Kapoor was the one she really suspected.
She planned on having Andino and Taylor spend the most time with the actress, as Kapoor would likely see the men as easy targets to siphon information from.
This way Saffi could keep a solid grasp on what, exactly, was being revealed to Kapoor.
More than that, Saffi had the option of doctoring the flow of information, completely unbeknownst to all parties involved.
The most dangerous killers in the world were the ones who had something to lose. They tended to go to extremes to both hold on to and rationalize their wrongdoings. Considering what Kapoor had done the last time she’d been cornered, Saffi needed to play this very carefully.
Her career in film could only explain so much, though, and Dimple Kapoor’s in particular was superficial in every conceivable way.
Saffi found herself more interested in the woman’s past, which was riddled with questions.
Specifically, the year-and-a-half-long college stint.
A full ride, including room and board, was many people’s dream.
And yet it didn’t take long for Kapoor to drop out and throw herself at an uncertain future instead.
It made little sense for someone so intelligent and calculating.
Saffi had been in the middle of deciphering Kapoor’s college transcript when she heard an office door slam shut and a pair of footsteps darting out.
That would be the Andino half of Andino and Taylor Private Eye.
The man had been jittery ever since Saffi mentioned that Kapoor would be coming in. Clearly, the actress had arrived.
It was worrying what the man might do in this state, so Saffi snatched her jacket and hurried to intercept them.
A concerned-looking Taylor was waiting for her when she stepped into the hallway.
Together, they watched Andino attempt to balance an armful of bottled water and snacks.
Dimple Kapoor stood in front of him, her heels as red as her lips, politely accepting a little bit of everything.
If Saffi hadn’t been looking so closely, she wouldn’t have noticed the actress slipping most of it into her purse.
“Oh god,” Saffi said.
“Yeah,” Taylor agreed with a sigh.
Even the interns, who were usually unobtrusive, came out of their office to gawk at the local celebrity.
Living in LA, Saffi had assumed most of its residents would be used to this kind of thing by now.
It took her a moment to realize that they were gawking just as much at her as they were at Dimple.
“Didn’t take you for a fanboy, Andino,” Saffi muttered under her breath as they crossed paths.
“Fuck off,” he said, ears red.
“Thanks for coming in,” Taylor said to Dimple politely.
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll do anything I can,” she said. Saffi deserved an Oscar for successfully suppressing an eye roll.
“Let’s go to the meeting room,” Taylor suggested. “It should fit all of us.”
Taylor led the way and Saffi followed last. When she heard shuffling behind her, she turned back.
As she did, all three interns turned away as though they hadn’t been gazing at her with forlorn expressions.
It set Saffi on edge, perhaps because it reminded her so much of herself when she was their age.
More established investigators tended to take advantage of the youthful eagerness to please. How many cases had she solved without credit or compensation? At the same time, how many of those investigators had ignored her, never bothering to learn her name let alone give her the time of day?
Saffi let out a long sigh. “Come on,” she said, holding the door open.
They seemed bewildered, as though unsure if her offer was serious, but scurried inside when Saffi made an irritated sound. Taylor gave her a curious, approving look when she joined them. Not even a full minute had passed, and she was already regretting it.
Eager not to ruin their chances, the interns stood with their backs to the wall, holding up identical notepads and pens stamped with the agency’s logo.
Saffi took it back—she couldn’t remember being that eager.
She leaned against the wall behind Kapoor, facing Andino and Taylor.
Early-morning sunshine illuminated the circular wooden table separating them.
Saffi had already briefed the men on exactly how much information they were allowed to disclose to Dimple Kapoor.
They could discuss what she already knew, but no new information was to be revealed.
They could bring up Irene’s and Isaac’s deaths in conjunction with her attack, but they could not inform her that they suspected Hector Olsen. Simple.
“I want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Taylor said to Kapoor. “Your comfort is the most important thing here.”
“Wow,” Saffi muttered. “Who died and made you head of HR?”
She didn’t get a response. Kapoor’s eyes did widen in surprise, however, as she seemed to catch onto the fact that Andino and Taylor didn’t know she was a suspect. She glanced back at Saffi, who only raised a challenging brow in response.
“Helping us with this case might mean putting yourself into dangerous or stressful situations,” Taylor said. “It might bring up trauma associated with your attack. Is that something you’re willing to risk?”
Kapoor had both hands clasped together, her black wrist brace inconspicuous against the dark brown of the table. Ever the selfless, demure damsel, she said, “I don’t want this to happen to anyone else.”
“That’s admirable,” Taylor said genuinely. “We want the same thing.”
An intern’s pen scratched eagerly across their notepad.
“If I agree to help, what would that entail?” Kapoor asked.
“There is protocol. We’ll train you on the basics of undercover work,” Taylor explained.
“Which should be easy, since you’re already an amazing actress,” Andino added.
Unbelievable. Saffi looked up at the ceiling and tried not to grind her teeth to dust. She was beginning to understand the appeal of throwing yourself off a two-story building.
“Right,” Taylor said after a beat. “The goal is to get you to a point where you feel comfortable going to another party that we know for certain our suspects will be attending. We’re hoping your presence might induce a reaction. They might try to get you alone or even attack you again.”
Taylor must’ve noticed the manufactured terror on Kapoor’s face because he hastily added, “Of course, all three of us will be there with you, ready to pull you out on the off chance something goes wrong. We’ll make sure you have everything you need to ensure your safety.”
“Excuse my hesitation, but are you sure you’ll be of much help? I haven’t seen you carry any weapons,” Dimple said.
It was a very smart, very roundabout way of ensuring her own safety, but not in the way Taylor was made to believe. Kapoor needed to be aware of the weapons they carried—not so that they could be used to defend her, but so she could make sure they wouldn’t be used against her.
Taylor seemed to mull it over for a moment, turning to Saffi first. He was deferring to her.
They both were. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but after years of working exclusively with egotistical strangers, she’d grown used to boundaries being pushed until they broke.
Ultimately, she shrugged, leaving it up to his discretion.
She didn’t know what protective services Andino and Taylor Private Eye provided, if any, nor had she ever worked in that sector.
“We don’t do a lot of security work,” Taylor admitted. “However, Atlas and I are trained in self-defense. And we’ve been in this field for a long time. We’re familiar with the dangers of the job.”
It was true enough. Saffi didn’t have a permanent office, so she hadn’t had to deal with the death threats or extremist ideals in a while, but she’d had more than enough experience back at Stronghold.
The sheer volume of mail she’d seen the interns shred every day was enough to confirm that nothing had changed.
Most PIs eventually became desensitized to it, but there was always the possibility that someone would follow through with their threats.
“We prefer not to carry weapons,” Taylor continued. “We’re not law enforcement. However, we are licensed in the state of California—Atlas and I, that is—so, if it would make you feel safer, one of us could bring a gun with us to the party.”