It was a curious turn of phrase, one that Dimple was more than willing to make true. She’d already decided how to play this, but something in the woman’s expression gave her pause. Saffi Mirai Iyerappeared almost excited. Had it been Atlas or Eli in the room, Dimple was sure they would’ve stumbled their way through a clichéd checklist of condolences first. This woman, however, seemed the type to stomp on eggshells rather than tiptoe.
“Do I know you?” Dimple asked, not bothering to hide her irritation. She could both see and feel her heartbeat pick up ever so slightly. Saffi seemed to notice as well, not bothering to hide her interest in the growing number.
“I get the feeling you know exactly who I am.” She said it challengingly, as though Dimple was supposed to know what she meant by that. When she remained tactfully quiet, it was Saffi who turned away. Somehow, it still felt like a loss.
“Saffi Mirai Iyer, private investigator.” She didn’t hold out a hand to shake nor did she offer a business card.
Dimple pretended to mull it over. “Do you work with Atlas and Eli?”
Saffi shrugged, neither in confirmation nor denial, but she seemed tense. Dimple thought back to the countless articles that connected Saffi, Atlas, and Eli. If one of their names were mentioned regarding an investigation, the other two were sure to follow. That is, until Saffi had left the country and Atlas and Eli had started their own agency without her. Curious. There was likely some history there.
“You mentioned to the police that you were pushed by someone, but that you didn’t get a good look at them?” Saffi asked, and Dimple nodded in agreement, the movement making her wince. This time when her heart rate shot up, it was due to pain.
“Did you catch them?” Dimple asked.
“Not yet,” Saffi said. “But it’s only a matter of time. Your attacker very helpfully decided to leave a little message for us on the balcony.”
“A message,” Dimple echoed, trying to keep her tone wary, yet bland. “Yes, I believe I recall the police mentioning that.”
It was something Dimple had thought up last minute when she realized she needed the investigators to quickly link her fall to Irene’s and Isaac’s deaths. The workings of real-life murder investigations were a mystery to her, however. Eight years ago, she hadn’t the foresight to pay attention, so all that she knew now was from research.Somehow, she doubted thatInsomnia’s take on it was accurate, considering Dimple and Chris’s characters hadn’t been caught.
“Ridiculous, I know,” Saffi said, mischievous. “But it connects your attack to Irene Singh’s murder.”
“Murder? I was under the impression that Irene’s passing was an accident,” Dimple said.
“Were you?” Saffi hummed. “Well, according to the note, it wasn’t.” She huffed a laugh. “Funny. It’s the kind of thing you’d expect to see in the movies, not real life.”
Dimple’s blood ran cold. She could’ve been imagining it, but she had a feeling this woman knew more than she was letting on. But Dimple couldn’t afford to panic. She forced herself to count her breaths, lungs straining with effort. The number on the heart monitor next to her bed steadily began to decline.
“I suppose,” she replied, slightly breathless. “But I’d rather it stay on-screen.”
“It’s the screen itself that seems to bring out the worst in people.”
What could Saffi possibly intend by that other than to provoke?
“You’ll catch whoever it is, won’t you?” Dimple Kapoor asked earnestly. Innocence was an art form she’d had a lot of practice perfecting.
“Of course I will,” Saffi replied, seemingly more interested in the vibrant roses by the bedside.
The promise did the opposite of reassure her. Dimple fought the urge to shiver—only partially because the movement would make her sick. “Do you have any leads?”
Saffi moved closer to Dimple’s bed, looking down at her from above. Her head eclipsed the bright light at the top of the room, shrouding her face in darkness. God, she really was so tall. She leaned closer, shirt collar dipping to expose neck and collarbone. It was unsettlingly reckless, this display of vulnerability. Another provocation. Saffi didn’t register Dimple as a threat and wanted to make that fact known. Dimple had the brief, feral urge to sink her teeth into the unmarred flesh as a reminder of the danger she possessed. But this was a challenge that she could not meet head-on, not without upending everything she’d done to get here.
“Give it up,” Saffi said. “This innocent act might’ve worked on the pigs, but it won’t work on me.”
It took a moment for the words to sinkin.
Panic followed next, anchoring itself in Dimple’s rapidly thudding heart. All her hard work had been for nothing, the heart monitor’s beeping turning shrill. She’d been sweating profusely for hours now thanks to the pain and the bright lights and the needles pumping nutrients into her veins, but never as much as she was right now. The walls felt like they were closing in, the lights glowing brighter until they supernova’d.
Dimple couldn’t stomach the thought that she’d thrown herself off a balcony for nothing. Eighty-hour workweeks, earning pennies on set throughout the day and at temp jobs throughout the night, all worthless because one woman stood in her path. What would happen, truly, if she reached up and strangled Saffi right here and now? Dimple had only one good hand, but she could probably catch her by surprise.
The world was a dancing mosaic of color. It took her a second to recognize that it was the bouquets her fans had sent her. Just moments ago, Priyal had been reading each of the kind messages out loud while Dimple had let the words sinkin.
She had no choice. She would have to kill Saffi just like she did Isaac and Irene.
She had to preemptively strike before the threads of her deception unraveled. The thought was quickly tempered by the fact that she would never get away with it. Forget killing her in the middle of a hospital—even if Dimple threw Saffi down a flight of stairs at some remote location, it wouldn’t end well. Because who else had Saffi told about her suspicions? Who were the other suspects in this investigation? If she died immediately after confronting Dimple, there would be no question regarding Dimple’s hand in the matter.
She was completely at this woman’s mercy.
