In the Club by Antonio Pagliarulo

case!”
    “It could be,” Park said. “I’m just posing theories. Concetta was supposedly dancing in the cage with Damien, and plenty of people probably saw them in there. But did anyone maybe see her exit the cage at some point? Think about it. The spinning strobes, the craziness of the dance floors—it was pretty wild. I mean, aside from Theo, who else did
we
see dancing close to
us
? The only person I remember is Julian Simmons.”
    “Theo!” Madison suddenly wailed. “Oh my God—I completely forgot about him.” She reached into her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and tapped out a text message.
    Lex crinkled her nose. “Theo probably ran back home to avoid negative publicity. That loser wouldn’t want anything to do with this.”
    “Shut up!” Madison waved the cell phone at her. “He was nothing but nice to you tonight.”
    “Both of you, be quiet.” Park clapped her hands. “Can either one of you answer my question? Who else did you notice dancing close to us on the main floor?”
    It was silent for a few seconds. Then Lex said, “I saw Emmett with Rebecca Franklin. And Chloe Marx and Penelope Renton.”
    “And I saw Billy Wright,” Madison added.
    “So that leaves six St. Cecilia’s Prep students out of the equation,” Park said. “No one who was dancing with us on the main floor could’ve killed Damien.”
    “Yeah, but there were about fifty other kids from school at the opening tonight.” Lex threw up her hands. “And how would we know where any of them were when Damien got clocked in the head? I mean…the evidence against Concetta is circumstantial right now, but maybe it
is
as simple as it looks. Maybe she did kill him.”
    “A crime of passion,” Park whispered.
    “Or maybe even something more than that,” Madison offered. “I mean, Damien was our friend, and so is Concetta. But when you think about it, how much do we really know about either one of them? We all have secrets. I just can’t bring myself to believe that Concetta would be
that
stupid—stupid enough to kill him right then and there.”
    “When you think about it, though…it wasn’t a sudden violent act,” Park said. “It wasn’t a homicidal impulse. Planning went into this. Think about the Mozart Requiem—that didn’t come from one of the DJs. Which makes me think—the DJs must know something, or they must’ve seen someone suspicious. I
so
wish we could’ve stayed at the club and questioned them ourselves. The Requiem was all part of the production.”
    “That’s
totally
true,” Madison said. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Everyone knew Damien had a passion for classical music, especially Mozart. So it
was
premeditated.”
    Lex ran both her hands through her hair, then reached up and turned one of the air-conditioning vents toward her. “People do pretty sick things in the heat of passion,” she said. “Concetta had probably been burning up about this for months. Maybe she told Damien she had the hots for him and he kept turning her away. And Damien was always flirting with everyone. It probably drove Concetta nuts. What if she finally just snapped? She seemed happy to see him tonight, but what if that was all part of her plan? We were witnesses to that—how giddy she acted when we were all standing together. So then they go into the cage and start dancing, and at the right moment she takes off the stiletto and
wham.
Turns his head into meatloaf.”
    Madison placed both hands on her stomach. “Please, don’t mention food. Especially meatloaf.”
    “You pretty much constructed a good crime there, Lex.” Park gave a nod of approval. “It’s absolutely plausible. But if it was so planned out, why would Concetta leave the shoe in that cage for everyone to see?”
    “Because she panicked,” Lex said. “Because in that awful moment, she freaked out and went into shock herself. Or maybe she just got dizzy and ran. I don’t know, but she obviously doesn’t have a brilliant criminal mind.