Death of Lydia (BWWM ON HOLD)

3

C H A P T E R  3
IF THAT'S LOVE

"Cheif! What you saw back there wasn't-"

THE chief was a well-built man, a negro at most with a hint of Indian blood within him, that was obvious due to slick shine his hair, which held a certain sheen as if straighten. He wasn't new to the community, he had been here since he was a boy, growing up amongst the scoundrels that lurked behind the locked doors. He wasn't one to budge or obliged to death threats, neither bribes. His head was focussed on one thing and one thing only, justice. Kenneth's voice seemed to cut him out of his tense trance as he eyed Ms.Ava leave. The man was in his mid-forties, age was never a problem for Ms.Ava, and because of the experience, he had with her. He'll always have a soft spot for that woman.

"Its okay Mr. Beau, Ava is a tough pill to swallow" He began as he eyed Kenneth who stood fidgeting in front of him "We've all been their every single one of us has had a taste of Ms.Ava whether it's with her words or her body, that's why whatever she says or does shouldn't get to you" he mumbled the last part as if it had hurt to acknowledge it. 

Kenneth eyed his chief, curiosity bulging in his eyes at the notion of him and Ava having sex "Excuse me?"

"She's manipulative, She's smart,... That all I have left to say on the matter  "  The chief resounded with a firm nod that gave no way to Kenneth's follow up questions out of curiosity. "We are heading to Mrs. Monte's house tonight to be ready."

The evening had drawn down quicker than he had expected, Ava was to appear tomorrow and so he had written down some questions he would like to ask before he left the office. Maybe asking the right questions would change her demeanor. Kenneth had taken what the chief had stated in mind and so the following questions he had on the flimsy paper, was meant to jog her memory. She had to slip up she just had to.

The drive there was quite. Monte's husband was quick to move out as he couldn't stand the stench of death. He had already been breached; his Alabi was strong, he wasn't there the night of the murder and he had witnesses to prove it. They had examined every possible angle yet they found no fault. No-fault in his story, in his stature, the polygraph test was clean, no lies were said. That's why the department was here scouting out Monte's last calls, lasts fax, last messages anything that had a lead, yet it only pointed to Ava.  Ava knew something they didn't and the last words she had said in the strip club were what had him believing something was up. 

"If that's love, I don't want it " She had said with such hatred, such vigor, such disgust as she stiffened is his lap. But just how quick it came, that's how quick it left. Her emotions never lingered. Kenneth had meant to ask more questions that night, to pester her even more but the setting wasn't it. Then he got caught up in the feel of her, the taste her, her words. His mission became a haze, but it won't happen again. Now he knew that it wasn't because he was special, nor was he sexually alluring to her. He was someone in blue. That's how she treated the rest of them. 

After their interrogation, the break room was filled with long faces and heavy sighs. Most of the men vented about their experience with this woman. It was as if they were the snake and she was the tantalizing melody. They forgot everything, every sense of common judgment as they succumbed to her siren-like behavior. Others whined at how they were so close, so close to venturing into her, seeking her out, unfolding her deepest secrets; but the chief seemed to have done it, had done it all. The way his eyes fell distant as if he had been washed in a faraway memory, haunted his irises; as Kenneth watched him eye her longingly. Seeing as though he grew up here, maybe they were childhood friends or lovers. But the emotion Kenneth saw was deep. 

Kenneth glanced with the rearview mirror at the man who held justice as a second skin, yet when Ava was around. When brief soaking Lydia Ava was around everyone lost their shit.

"We're here, watch your backs" was all the chief had said as he stepped out of the flashing vehicle. His lips were drawn tight as he stepped over the yellow tape they had placed two weeks ago to seal off needed evidence. The first week upon hearing the superstar's death, the most obvious thing that was missing was the Diamond crusted revolver. How had they know, because the safe that held it was empty. Ms.Monte hadn't reported anything stolen, maybe she hadn't notice, or even if she did maybe it wasn't seen as important. Then they checked the security cameras. Kenneth had the privilege to search through a year of footage, then he saw her. Lydia Ava breaking into the house. 

The house was located with the upper echelons. The high crust of society, the suburbs as they place it. Most had either high-end security cameras or big dogs that guarded the gates like lions. The Monte's residents had both, how did she come in... that no one knew. What they did know, however, was Monte's husband's confession. He stated that the following morning Lydia had seemed visibly disturbed.

 Soon everyone followed, steadily walking up the steps, and opening the door to reveal the house that was completely trashed. The forensic team had thoroughly searched, marked, took, and dusted every spot on each furniture. The team consisting of the Cheif, Kenneth, and two other male officers left the foyer, and made it straight to the master bedroom, where supposedly it all went down.

"We are here to evaluate things, we've missed. We are here to conjure more clues" The chief stated eyeing the bedroom that still held the blood bath of the victim. Lydia Mote had a bullet lodged at the left side of her head, deciphered to be shot at close range. Then she held ten stab wounds, four to the chest, one long dragged mark on her left hand, and five found in her lower abdomen. Whoever had done it, wanted her dead, no chance of life, thus the case was ruled as first-degree murder. It would have ruled as that but seeing as her husband had no motives, neither did a shred of evidence pointed to him. Now, more than likely manslaughter would come into play. 

The forensic team had painted the picture, orchestrated the scene, illustrated to them the disaster of what might've have happened. The victim would have been facing left, face scrunched as she was eyeing something, she was either unaware of her killer or knew them well which suggested that she wasn't fearful, she was comfortable with their presence. Then the first stab began a jagged one that slit into the left side of her arm. Its theorized that she held up her arm in defense once she had realized the intentions of the murderer was indeed to kill. She might've screamed and ran, with the knife still lodge into her skin. Causing her to tumble into the bathroom in sheer fright. After which the killer came detached the knife and proceeded to stab her until she bled out in the tub. To ensure her death the trigger was pulled. 

When Kenneth had walked in and saw the lifeless body he was sick for days, the limitless amounts of blood, the handprints that suggested a fight for survival. It had sickened him to the core.

How could one do such a thing with no remorse, no sense of compassion for life? Then the words replayed in his head.

"If that's love... I don't want it"

♤
WORD COUNT
1360