Crime (h.s. au)

Chapter Forty One

Harry

"Ava, what's going on?"

I watch from the room beside the questioning room as Annabella walks into the room with Ava.

"Just take a seat," she tells her, and they sit down. Annabella looks frantic and I can only assume she's nervous that she's in trouble.

"Look, I know this is going to be hard but I just need you to tell me everything you know and where you were during all of this. No holding back, okay?" Ava says, and Annabella nods.

"Where were you the past three days? Step by step, literally everything," Ava continues, taking out her notepad. I have mine too, ready to list off everything.

"Okay, um, I went to work all three days. I wake up at six, go cycling at six-fifteen at Soul Cycle, then I shower after. I get into my car and drive thirty minutes to the office on sixth and Broadway. I work on the third floor, with sales management, and punch in at seven forty-five," she says, and I write it all down.

"After work Monday, I went home and got there around five. I don't live with anyone and I made dinner for myself. My building has cameras on each door, so you can look at those videos for each day if you need proof. But anyway, on Tuesday, same morning routine, except that morning I went and got coffee around seven forty-five, right outside the office building. Then I went into work and punched in eight. Worked, then went out with my coworker for dinner at Jameson's. I'm sure they have cameras too," Annabella continues, covering all the bases in regard to surveillance. I'm sure she's learned from shows and her father that time stamps are key.

"Wednesday, I repeated the same routine on Monday in the morning and after work, I went to my friend Adrian's for wine and a movie," she says, and I clench my jaw.

"Is there proof that you were there?" Ava asks, and Annabella nods.

"I have a photo. We take one every time we have a wine night," she says, and shows Ava a picture. Ava nods and is able to confirm the time stamp.

"What happened?" Annabella asks, and Ava puts her notepad on the table. She crosses her legs and folds her hands in her lap.

"Two days ago, Antonio Jerome found Emmett Oliver dead in their apartment," Ava says, Annabella's face soon draining of all color. "He was murdered. Horrifically murdered."

Annabella covers her mouth, her hand shaking and tears beginning to form. "No," she cries, and I press my lips together.

"We needed to rule you out as a suspect. That's why I called you here today," Ava explains, and Annabella buries her head in her hands.

"Em," she cries. "I-I don't understand. How could anyone hurt him?"

"We don't know. We need to find that out," Ava tries to comfort. "Do you have any idea who may have done this?"

With a shake of her head, Annabella looks up at her. "I couldn't think of a soul that would want to hurt him. He cared about everyone, even me after we broke up. It was hard on both of us, but because we worked together, it became difficult to balance," she says, and I feel my chest tighten.

Having someone bring up the same situation I'm going through almost feels like a slap in the face. Balancing my relationship with Ava is beginning to show strain and I can't even claim if it really is that: a relationship. We agreed to keep it exclusive, that's all. She's not my girlfriend, I'm not her boyfriend, but we clearly care about each other.

I just wish I knew what was going on in her mind today. She's a wreck and I want to take whatever it is that's troubling her and help her get through it. Ava will never admit to me what's truly going on; that's a given.