The Dead and the Beautiful Read Online Free PDF Page B

clarified.
    â€œYou didn’t see Mr. Melton when you dropped the dog off?”
    Alison rubbed her hands as if washing them. “No,” she whispered.
    Dombrowski took a step closer. “I’m sorry, Ms. Sahira, you’ll have to speak up.”
    â€œI didn’t see him!” She said it loudly enough to startle both Nikki and Dombrowski. “I let Muffin in, hung the leash up by the back door and . . . went out.”
    â€œThe front door?”
    She nodded.
    â€œWhere Mr. Krommer stopped you?”
    She nodded again. Looked down at her feet. “I was getting in my van. He came out and told me. About Ry—Mr. Melton.”
    â€œSo, you would have been in the house when Mr. Krommer was making the 911 call?”
    Alison didn’t look at them. “I didn’t—”
    She was interrupted by the sound of a cell phone vibrating in Nikki’s bag on the edge of the table. The ringer was off, but the sound was still loud. Really loud. Or at least it seemed so at such an inopportune moment.
    Alison looked at Nikki’s bag. Dombrowski looked at it.
    Nikki glanced up quickly at Alison, ignoring the phone. “So you were in the house when the fish-tank guy found Ryan and called 911?”
    â€œNo. Maybe. I guess. I . . . I don’t know. I’m not trying to be difficult.” She took a breath and started again, her sentences short and delivered in a staccato fashion. “I never saw Mars. I didn’t see Mr. Melton. I let the dog loose in the house. I hung the leash up. I went out the front door. I was getting into my van when Mars came outside. He was crying. He said Mr. Melton was dead. He said he called the police. Then I heard the sirens.”
    Nikki wanted to ask if Mars said where Ryan was, how he knew he was dead, the particulars, but Dombrowski didn’t ask, so she didn’t.
    He scribbled something on his notepad, then flipped the leather cover over. “Okay.”
    â€œOkay?” Nikki asked, a little surprised his questioning had been so brief. Maybe this was a follow-up to previous questioning.
    â€œOkay. I’ve got Ms. Sahira’s statement. She can go.”
    Alison bolted out of her chair and practically ran for the door.
    Nikki looked at Alison, then the detective. There was no way he couldn’t have noticed Alison’s odd behavior. Nikki grabbed her bag.
    Alison darted past the detective and he turned to watch her go. “I’ve got your cell number and your address. Same address as Dr. Fitzpatrick’s. In case I have more questions for you, once the security tapes are run.”
    Alison halted in the doorway but didn’t turn around.
    Again, odd. But then she always had been odd.
    â€œSecurity tapes?” Alison said.
    Nikki’s phone started vibrating again.
    Dombrowski looked pointedly at Nikki, then at Alison’s back. “Sure. The house has security cameras, inside and out. Everyone in Beverly Hills has them.”
    â€œOh.” It came out as an exhalation. Nikki’s phone was still vibrating. “Of course,” Alison said. She still didn’t turn around. “Nikki?”
    â€œComing.”
    Nikki went past Dombrowski without saying good-bye. As she walked through the house, toward the front door, she couldn’t help eyeing the glass doors in the living room that led out to the pool. She glanced over her shoulder. He hadn’t followed them; she heard him answer his phone. “Dombrowski.”
    She didn’t hesitate. She took three steps into the sunken living room. Everything was white: the carpet, the walls, the leather couches, even the tables. The guy with the ponytail was still sitting on the couch, still staring into space. Mars Krommer? “Hi,” she murmured.
    â€œHey,” he answered, his voice distant. He didn’t look up; obviously he was stunned by the events unfolding around him.
    Nikki took another step into the living room, then another. A