“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who the suspects are?” Kapoor asked.
Again, they deferred to Saffi. She pushed off the wall and went to sit on the table beside Kapoor, who bumped her elbow with Saffi’s thigh.
“Well?” she asked the interns.
All three of them straightened. She was certain one of the boys almost saluted before thinking better of it. In the end, they stared blankly at her.
“What do you think?” she asked them. “Should we tell her?”
One of the boys stammered out, “Yes.”
“Why?”
“So she knows who to look out for?”
“Wrong,” Saffi replied. She didn’t have to turn around to know Taylor was wincing behind her back. Judging by her shaking shoulders, Dimple Kapoor was holding back laughter. “Any other guesses?”
The girl raised her hand.
“I’m not your teacher,” Saffi said.
“You shouldn’t tell her,” she answered, notepad in a tight grip. “Because the suspect could be innocent, for all we know. We want to induce an authentic reaction in case the real culprit is not someone we’re expecting.”
“What’s your name?” Saffi asked.
“Mia Martinez.”
“Gold star, Martinez. That is one reason.” Of course, the real reason was that Dimple herself was a suspect—not that Saffi expected the interns to know that.
Martinez beamed, her iron grip on her notebook relaxing. The boys seemed dejected, but disappointment was a vital part of investigative work. The best PIs had to get comfortable with it or else they’d make the same mistakes as the stubborn Saffi of her past. However, she couldn’t help but give them an encouraging nod. That seemed to ease the corners of their frowns.
“I see,” Kapoor said. She’d been studying Saffi, but she turnedback to Andino and Taylor. “And what if I go through this training and decide I don’t want to do it in the end?”
“Then you’ll have wasted our t—”
“That’s perfectly within your right,” Taylor said, cutting Saffi off.
Kapoor took a moment to formulate a response. “From what you’ve told me, this killer sounds manipulative and intelligent. I don’t know if I stand a chance against them.”
“Wow, Kapoor,” Saffi muttered, leaning down and speaking low enough for only the actress to hear. “I’m all for self-love, but this is a bit much.”
Kapoor’s expression didn’t so much as twitch, but there was a tenseness in her jaw that hadn’t been there before. Saffi couldn’t help her amusement. There was a certain thrill to be sitting in a roomful of people, winning a game that nobody but the two of them knew the rulesof.
“But,” Kapoor continued, “if there’s a chance I can help, then I will.”
—
They finished themeeting with a tour of the building. No man had ever made paper clips and staplers sound as exciting as Andino. His chest puffed up every time Kapoor complimented something of his, cueing Saffi and Taylor to exchange unimpressed expressions. Taylor didn’t seem to notice, though, that Kapoor reacted similarly whenever Andino chose to wax poetic about her work. It was minute, but the twitch of her lips gave it away.
Egomaniacs, the both of them.
The tour concluded outside the agency, where a cool breeze greeted them. Dimple paused to call a cab, which prompted Andino and Taylor to head inside, but Saffi remained. She rocked back on her heels, hands stuffed into her pockets.
“Do you hate communications or something?” she asked eventually.
When Kapoor looked up in confusion, the sunlight hit her eyes just right, igniting a kaleidoscope of brown and gold. She had extremely long, dark eyelashes that cast shadows against her skin. Saffisupposed she could see why someone might want to put her on a movie screen.
“You gave up a full ride to a great university,” she continued. “I figured you weren’t the biggest fan of your major.”
