“I don’t know who tipped them off, but I have half a mind to arrest them,” an officer mumbled as he shut the blinds.
Just then, the front door burst open, bringing in overlapping shouts and the sound of several camera shutters. Saffi watched as three separate officers dragged in an erratic Hector Olsen. He kicked and bit and threw himself around, attempting to break free. That would explain why it had taken so long to transport him.
Saffi studied the man closer, unsurprised to find that his movements were still erratic. She aimed a pointed look at Dimple over her shoulder, who only shrugged in response.
Olsen sharpened the second he noticed Dimple. “It was her—that bitch! She did this to me!”
He lunged forward, but the officers’ hold on him was unrelenting. Dimple stepped closer to Saffi, seemingly shocked, but excessively so, clearly playing it up for the others present. The brightness about her, though, spoke volumes. Getting a front row seat to this show had to be at least part of the reason why she’d decided to make an appearance.
“You’re sayingshebroke that girl’s nose?” a bored police officer asked, rolling his eyes.
Dimple stiffened.
“She made me do it—!” Olsen tried again.
“Yeah, yeah,” the officer said, helping the other officers shove Olsen into a holding room. “Save it for your lawyers, man.”
As the officers moved him out of the way, Saffi watched as Andino and Taylor returned, summoned by the chaos. Andino had a scowl painted on and made a face at Saffi that she read as:Can you believe this?Taylor, however, was studying Dimple with a frown.
Saffi opened her mouth to greet them, but sirens cut her off. Three officers ran past them, which she tracked with her eyes.
“What’s going on?” she asked out loud, not expecting an answer.
An officer must’ve heard. “House fire in Beverly Hills,” he called over his shoulder.
It took a moment for the location of the fire to click in Saffi’s mind. That and the fact that it was afire.Saffi glanced over at Dimple, who looked a little too smug for her own good. She thought of the red lighter always tucked into the actress’s pocket. Of the mysterious vial stashed in her own. And of the lingering smell of burnt plastic.
She had a feeling she knew exactly where Dimple Kapoor had run offto.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
August 13, 2026
Several days afterthe party, police and lab reports were finally shared with Andino and Taylor Private Eye.
“They found Olsen’s suit soaked through with Dimple’s blood,” Taylor said, flipping through a file.
The three of them were sitting in the break room together. If it weren’t for Saffi straightening out and organizing their papers, they would be strewn haphazardly across the floor for anyone to walk over. They couldn’t afford that. While Olsen’s house had burned to a crisp with zero salvageable security camera footage, somewhere in these stacks had to be enough information to convict the rightful perpetrator. Right now, the police were convinced that Olsen had burned his own house down—probably with the help of an accomplice—in an attempt to hide the evidence. It didn’t help that they’d been in the process of securing a search warrant before it all went up in flames.
Saffi figured that the bloodstains left behind on the suit had to be new—that Dimple had been planting the evidence when she went missing—which forensics would be able to determine. The problem was the fire. It had tampered with a lot of the evidence, allowing discrepancies to be explained away.
“Is this really everything?” Saffi asked.
“No,” Andino said. “There’s a file they’re still refusing to release to us.”
Saffi frowned. “Why?”
“It’s the police. They’re always pulling shit like this.”
When bureaucracy and high-profile people were involved, there was no use asking for reasoning. They’d never get a straight answer. However, if there was even so much as a minor detail that could connect Dimple to the fire, Saffi would be able to spot it. “I need you to work on getting that file for me.”
Andino let out a long sigh but gave her an affirmative nod. Suddenly, Taylor was on his feet, pacing and biting his nails in tandem. Saffi stopped to watch. She’d never seen him so agitated.
“Is he okay?” Saffi asked.
“He’s been antsy since we got back from the station,” Andino explained as he doodled something in the corner of his notebook.
Taylor didn’t reply straightaway, continuing to work a line into the ground. After a beat he said, “Hector Olsen, a prime suspect in our case and known domestic abuser, punched the supporting actress ofInsomnia.”
