Read Online On the Avenue by Antonio Pagliarulo - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Antonio Pagliarulo
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Detective Mullen. “So you see, it's obvious that we're looking for a male killer. The scarf around Zahara Bell's neck was absolutely
not
a part of her outfit.”
Detective Mullen sighed. “And how do you know that for sure, Ms. Hamilton?”
“Because that dress is my—” Lex bit down hard on her tongue, and the nick of pain made her fingers clench. Champagne barked and squirmed against her chest.
“That dress is your
what
?” Detective Mullen asked, taking a step toward her. “Finish your statement, Ms. Hamilton. Do you know something about the dress the victim is wearing? Or about the way in which she was killed?”
Lex didn't speak. She glanced nervously at Madison, then at Park. Both of them looked pensive. As the silence hung on the air, Lex felt her heartbeat kick up several notches.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
It was still so damn confusing—her own one-of-a-kind dress on adead woman's body. She didn't understand it, so how the hell was she supposed to explain it?
“Ms. Hamilton?” Detective Mullen prodded. “You wanna speak up?”
“It's… well …” Her voice trailed off. She gulped. “It's just that the victim, Zahara Bell, is wearing my dress.” Even as the words rolled off her tongue, Lex couldn't help noticing how ridiculous they sounded. Ridiculous. Stupid. And impossible. But nonetheless true.
“What? What did you just say?”
Detective Mullen looked as if he'd been slammed in his baseballs with a really big bat. “You'd
better
start explaining that one!”
Lex gave him the abbreviated version: the Triple Threat fashion line; her own gorgeous designs; original pieces that were all hanging in her private closet back home. No one could have gotten their hands on them. Very few people even knew she was about to launch her own line, and so she had no idea how Zahara Bell had snagged that particular dress. Fair enough?
Flushing a vibrant and highly unattractive shade of red, Detective Mullen began scribbling a series of notes onto his pad. He wrote and wrote. His fingers moved across the pages furiously. After what felt like five minutes, he trained his eyes on Lex. “Tell me something, Ms. Hamilton … when did you report this theft to the police?”
“Theft? I never reported any theft because Ididn't know the dress was missing until I saw it on the body,” Lex told him.
“So you never look in your closet at home?”
“I go into my closet all the time, Detective. But I can't
see
everything that's in it at one time.” Lex stared at him, exasperated. “My closet at home is about ten times the size of that horrible little coatroom. I wore the dress we're talking about a long time ago and it never occurred to me to look for it in my closet. But that's definitely it.”
“So then, who do you think broke into your apartment and stole it from your closet?” Mullen asked, an edge of sarcasm in his tone. “Do you think the victim, Ms. Bell, was a thief?”
Madison sighed loudly. “Why are you asking us police-related questions? It's
your
job to investigate.”
“And that's exactly what I'm doing. As it stands now, the victim is clothed in a dress that was hanging in your home. You all happened to find her body. You girls are also hosting this event. And …” Mullen flipped to the last page of his pad without taking his eyes off them. “And one of you has a penchant for jewelry. An interesting mix, if you ask me.”
Park cleared her throat. “What does my penchant for jewelry have to do with anything?”
“Oh. Didn't you know?” Mullen asked a little too coyly. “Zahara Bell was wearing the Avenue diamond tonight, and now it's missing. Torn right from her neck, apparently.”
“The Avenue diamond!” Park shouted, her eyes bulging. “
The
Avenue diamond?”
“Holy shit,” Coco whispered.
“Yes,” Mullen replied. “
The
Avenue diamond. You wouldn't happen to know anything about
that,
would you, Ms. Hamilton?”
Park bit down on her lip. Instead of launching into a roll
not
a part of her outfit.”
Detective Mullen sighed. “And how do you know that for sure, Ms. Hamilton?”
“Because that dress is my—” Lex bit down hard on her tongue, and the nick of pain made her fingers clench. Champagne barked and squirmed against her chest.
“That dress is your
what
?” Detective Mullen asked, taking a step toward her. “Finish your statement, Ms. Hamilton. Do you know something about the dress the victim is wearing? Or about the way in which she was killed?”
Lex didn't speak. She glanced nervously at Madison, then at Park. Both of them looked pensive. As the silence hung on the air, Lex felt her heartbeat kick up several notches.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
It was still so damn confusing—her own one-of-a-kind dress on adead woman's body. She didn't understand it, so how the hell was she supposed to explain it?
“Ms. Hamilton?” Detective Mullen prodded. “You wanna speak up?”
“It's… well …” Her voice trailed off. She gulped. “It's just that the victim, Zahara Bell, is wearing my dress.” Even as the words rolled off her tongue, Lex couldn't help noticing how ridiculous they sounded. Ridiculous. Stupid. And impossible. But nonetheless true.
“What? What did you just say?”
Detective Mullen looked as if he'd been slammed in his baseballs with a really big bat. “You'd
better
start explaining that one!”
Lex gave him the abbreviated version: the Triple Threat fashion line; her own gorgeous designs; original pieces that were all hanging in her private closet back home. No one could have gotten their hands on them. Very few people even knew she was about to launch her own line, and so she had no idea how Zahara Bell had snagged that particular dress. Fair enough?
Flushing a vibrant and highly unattractive shade of red, Detective Mullen began scribbling a series of notes onto his pad. He wrote and wrote. His fingers moved across the pages furiously. After what felt like five minutes, he trained his eyes on Lex. “Tell me something, Ms. Hamilton … when did you report this theft to the police?”
“Theft? I never reported any theft because Ididn't know the dress was missing until I saw it on the body,” Lex told him.
“So you never look in your closet at home?”
“I go into my closet all the time, Detective. But I can't
see
everything that's in it at one time.” Lex stared at him, exasperated. “My closet at home is about ten times the size of that horrible little coatroom. I wore the dress we're talking about a long time ago and it never occurred to me to look for it in my closet. But that's definitely it.”
“So then, who do you think broke into your apartment and stole it from your closet?” Mullen asked, an edge of sarcasm in his tone. “Do you think the victim, Ms. Bell, was a thief?”
Madison sighed loudly. “Why are you asking us police-related questions? It's
your
job to investigate.”
“And that's exactly what I'm doing. As it stands now, the victim is clothed in a dress that was hanging in your home. You all happened to find her body. You girls are also hosting this event. And …” Mullen flipped to the last page of his pad without taking his eyes off them. “And one of you has a penchant for jewelry. An interesting mix, if you ask me.”
Park cleared her throat. “What does my penchant for jewelry have to do with anything?”
“Oh. Didn't you know?” Mullen asked a little too coyly. “Zahara Bell was wearing the Avenue diamond tonight, and now it's missing. Torn right from her neck, apparently.”
“The Avenue diamond!” Park shouted, her eyes bulging. “
The
Avenue diamond?”
“Holy shit,” Coco whispered.
“Yes,” Mullen replied. “
The
Avenue diamond. You wouldn't happen to know anything about
that,
would you, Ms. Hamilton?”
Park bit down on her lip. Instead of launching into a roll
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