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“You believe she was capable of murder?”
“If you’d asked me before she disappeared, I’d have said no, but the police told me they had a strong case. At least Every Step didn’t get any blowback from her actions. A couple of clients mentioned the incident, but I was very clear that she was a casual, part-time worker.”
“Do you keep guest lists for events?”
“Yes, we do. Am I handing them over without a warrant? No.”
Another job for Mack and her team. She was going to love me.
“How many events would you say?—”
“Deborah, what do you mean, the ice sculptures are here already? They’re not due for almost two hours.” Trimmer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Those fools. Ms. Chastain, you’ll have to excuse me. I have a crisis to deal with.”
He marched off without another word, leaving Collier and me standing in a sea of half-decorated tables. Trimmer hadn’t given us much, but he’d given us something.
“Kaylin had another source of income,” I said. “She must have if she was turning down modelling work and events. Charlotte would have told me if she was late paying the rent before she left, plus she was either buying or being gifted designer clothes.”
“Agreed, but she sure kept her source of funds quiet.”
“We still have Anisha to try.”
Collier huffed out his frustration. “I read Crumb’s file, and I gotta say, I’m not filled with hope.”
“Three years have passed. Maybe she’ll have softened a little?”
“Maybe she will.”
But Collier didn’t sound convinced, and neither was I.
9
HALLIE
Anisha Kapoor hadn’t softened. If anything, she’d gotten harder in the years since her roommate disappeared. Harder to track down, harder to crack. If I’d whacked her with a hammer—which was tempting the way she sneered at me—she’d probably have shattered. Even Collier’s charms didn’t work.
“We’re just concerned about Ms. La Rocca,” he said.
“Mr. Dafoe, if you think stalking me and then ambushing me in a deli is going to get me to talk to you, you’ve got another think coming.”
Okay, so our approach was a little unorthodox, but we’d tried her apartment twice last night with no answer, and her assistant at work wouldn’t do more than take a message. In the end, we’d resorted to staking out the building where Perkins, Foster & Brundle occupied floors thirty-two through thirty-eight and following her when she left to get lunch. At least she didn’t eat at her desk. We’d figured there would be a fifty-fifty chance she’d want some fresh air, seeing as she didn’t seem to get out much otherwise.
The café approach had the potential to work—it was how I’d met Ford—but Anisha didn’t seem to appreciate our ingenuity. In fact, I was beginning to suspect that Charlotte had been right when she said her former roommate had a stick up her ass.
I had a try. “If Kaylin was my friend, I’d want to protect her too.”
“That being the case, why bother interrupting my lunch?”
Anisha took a step toward the counter, and I had to admit the sandwiches looked tempting. Maybe I should buy one for Alphonse? He’d saluted me as I left Emmy’s apartment building this morning.
“Because we have the same goal. I don’t want to see Kaylin in prison any more than you do.”
“Ms. Chastain, I guarantee I’ve spent more time wrangling the US legal system than you have, and if Kaylin reappears, that’s exactly where she’s going.”
“So you think she’s guilty?”
“I think the justice system isn’t always just.”
“Whatever happened that night, there was someone else involved.” I took a shot in the dark. “She had a boyfriend, but we haven’t been able to find him.”
