Crime (h.s. au)

Chapter Thirteen

Ava

"She shouldn't have given the police my name," Alexander says, his voice calm.

"And why is that?" I ask. "Her aunt and uncle gave us her name. You gave us Gabriel Torres' name. Why is it such a big deal that your girlfriend brought you up?" I inquire, his hand clenching and unclenching his free hand into a fist numerous times.

"It's unnecessary to the investigation. You seem to have placed a target on my back that shouldn't be there," he spits back, clearly growing angry again.

"And why shouldn't we have placed a target on your back?" I wonder, his eyes looking into mine.

"Because there is nothing to prove I did it," he tells me, my eyes staring directly into his brown eyes. They are so dark; they're almost black. No show of emotion is apparent, whatsoever.

"My hands are clean. There is nothing tying me to this case and I don't understand the need to continue to question me," he tells me, and I clench my jaw slightly.

"You have the motive," I state, and his eyebrows furrow together.

"Prove it," he encourages, my body standing up.

"You love Bernadette. But you have stated so yourself that you want her all to yourself. She's yours. It's clear to see you don't like anyone talking to her other than yourself," I begin, only for him to cut me off.

"That's not true," he starts but it's my turn to cut him off.

"When speaking to Gabriel Torres, we asked if he had met Bernadette Zetter, to which he responded that he has not. His reasoning: you don't feel it necessary that your friends concern themselves with her. However, Bernadette has friends. These friends care a lot about her as well, Victoria especially. You saw her as a threat," I state, and when I look at him, the vein in his neck is ready to explode.

"Bernadette does not need anyone filling her head with anything," he states again.

"Anything, meaning how those other than Bernadette see you?" I ask, and he clenches his jaw so tight he's almost red.

"It's my relationship with Bernadette. No one else should come between that," he grits, my body taking a seat again.

"Who was coming between your relationship?" I wonder, folding my hands in my lap.

The glare I receive is one where if looks could kill, I'd drop dead to the floor.

"Was Victoria coming between you two?" I ask before he can answer my original question, and he stays silent.

"Did you kill Victoria Peters?" I ask, and he stands.

"I didn't fucking kill her!" he says, and the Chief walks in. He sits Alexander back down and informs him to calm down.

The Chief stands by the door and I resume my questioning.

"What made you so bothered by Victoria?" I question and Alexander looks at me.

"She was always texting Bernadette. Always telling her that I'm not a guy she should be with. It pissed me off," he explains.

"So you go through her phone?" I ask, and he grips the edge of the chair.

"Yes, I go through her phone. She goes through mine. Not a big deal," he shakes off, and I take note to myself.

"Were there any messages in particular that made you angry?" I question, and he stiffens.

"No," he states, and I tilt my head to the side. He's hiding something; no one reacts that way if they weren't.

"Are you sure?" I ask, watching his chest rise and fall more rapidly.