The Celebutantes by Antonio Pagliarulo Page B

Detective Roan pressed. “Maybe there’s something you’re just not telling us.”
    â€œI’ve told you everything!” Coco snapped. “And I’m tired of answering your stupid questions. I want to get out of here.”
    Detective Roan held up the gold chain that had fallen out of Coco’s purse. The chain that had belonged to Elijah Traymore. “You see this?” he said. “The latch on the back of this chain is completely bent, and it looks to me like there’re a few specks of dried blood on it. As if it was yanked off Elijah’s neck. By force.”
    Park leaned forward and tried to get a good look at the chain without upsetting Detective Roan. “Oh, yes,” she whispered. “I see that. But—wait. Then you’re saying Elijah was involved in some sort of physical confrontation. You’re saying he was pushed.”
    Detective Roan smiled and gave Park an exaggerated wink. “You might make a good cop one day, little lady.”
    â€œOnly if they change the uniform,” Madison commented.
    Under normal circumstances, Coco would have laughed at the comment. Or added something to it. But now she was frozen, staring at the floor like a kid who’s just been caught going through her mother’s jewelry safe.
    â€œA whole hour,” Detective Roan continued, circling her as he held out the chain. “Unless you have an alibi, I could probably place you just about anywhere. A lot can happen in an hour.”
    Madison reached out and tapped Coco’s shoulder. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” she asked frantically. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you understand what he’s trying to imply? Tell him where you were so you’re not a part of this whole mess.”
    Coco remained silent.
    Just then, the elevator behind them yawned open and a uniformed officer stepped out of it. He walked up to Detective Roan, held up a small plastic bag, and said, “We found this in the penthouse, just outside the terrace. Looks like evidence of a struggle.”
    Detective Roan held up the plastic bag; in it was a gold cell phone. “This look familiar, Miss McKaid?”
    Madison gasped. Lex grabbed Park’s hand.
    â€œIt’s mine,” Coco answered, her voice barely audible. Then her eyes glassed with tears. “It’s…mine.”
    Tallula lunged forward, but the shock of the moment got her, and she stumbled back into the chair. “Murderer!” she shrieked, pointing at Coco.
“Murderer!”

    â€œIna, are you okay?”
    Park kept her voice gentle and soothing, not wanting to add to the chaos happening all over the hotel suite. She, Madison, and Lex were standing in the small study just off the main foyer. They were clutching their purses as they stared down at Ina—a trembling, pathetic figure of a girl slumped on the couch. They each had the instinct to reach out and comfort her, but Park knew playing that card wouldn’t be a good idea. There was a lot of work to do, and they had to maintain a low profile.
    It had been a feat to get in here in the first place. Detective Roan had protested all the way. Madison and Lex—both in shock from watching Coco be escorted to a police cruiser in handcuffs—had nearly fallen apart. Park had assumed the role of leader and muscled their way into the hotel suite. Thankfully, Tallula had agreed that extra company would be good for her and Ina.
    But getting in was only half the battle. Now Park had to find a way around all the crime-scene technicians. Not to mention Detective Roan, who had gotten a lot meaner in the last half hour.
    â€œIna?” Park said again. She tapped the girl’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
    Ina Debrovitch trembled and played with the edges of the quilt that had been draped around her shoulders. She didn’t touch the cup of tea on the table before her, nor did she look up at Madison, Park, or