Free On the Avenue by Antonio Pagliarulo Page A

cops. They strolled down the front steps into waiting cruisers without so much as glancing up at the reporters screaming after them. Other people came streaming out the doors too, well-dressed people who were being ushered down the south side stairs to waiting cabs. Damn reporters were calling out questions and flashing pictures.
    And then Madison appeared way up at the top of the stairs, followed by Lex and Park.
    The reporters began shouting in a frenzy.
    From where he was standing across the street, Clarence could just make out Madison's gown. He squinted and watched as they began descending the stairs. They looked confused, exchanging glances as they navigated their way out of the museum. Whistling, Clarence went and stood directly in front of the limo. He waved his hands in the air. But it was no good. The commotion had reached a fever pitch, and his signals disappeared behind a wave of flashes. One more minute and the girls would be swarmed by the media vultures.
    Whirling around, Clarence jumped into the limo, gunned the engine, and skidded across the avenue in a diagonal line. He jumped out onto the street and motioned for the girls.
    It was Lex who saw him. Her face lit up and she grabbed Park, who in turn latched on to Madison. They flew down the steps in a sloppy, stumbling chain. But just before they hit the sidewalk, four reporters cut a path in front of them and started belting out questions.
    “Shit,” Clarence muttered, instantly angered.
    “Lexington!” one of the reporters screamed. “Did you see the body?”
    “Did you see Zahara Bell before she was killed?”
    “Madison, what do you have to say about the gala?”
    “Lex, is it true that Zahara was found dead in a dress
you
designed?”
    “Park, did you and Jeremy Bleu come to the gala together? Are you a couple?”
    On and on the questions came, circling on the air like a bad smell. Just hearing them made Clarence's blood boil. He stomped onto the sidewalk and, in one swift motion, shoved the first two reporters out of the way. “Watch it!” he growled. “Move your asses!” He grabbed ahold of Lex and pulled her forward, elbowing another reporter in the ribs as he did so. He popped the back door of the limo and ushered the girls inside as cameras flashed in his face. Then he ran around to the driver's side, climbed in, and slammed the door shut.
    It was silent inside the limo. Clarence took a deep breath. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He turned around slowly.
    The girls were staring back at him, breathless and stunned.
    “What the hell is going on?” he asked.
    The reporters had pushed up against the tinted windows, their voices muffled but determined.
    Madison sat up, her eyes wide. “Becker!” she cried. “Bust it out of here!”
    “Yes, ma'am!” Throwing the limo into gear, Clarence slammed his foot on the gas and shot into traffic. He kept his eyes trained on the busy stretch of Fifth Avenue that lay ahead. Too many cars. Too many red lights. The paparazzi were probably already trailing the limo in one of their vans.
    “Don't take us back home!” Lex said. “They'll all be waiting for us there!”
    “I know,” Clarence shouted back at her, keeping his hands on the wheel. “Girls, fasten those seat belts! Looks like we've got company.” He shot a glance in the rearview mirror and spotted two vans cutting crazily through the traffic.
    “Here we go,” Park said with a sigh.
    “Becker, you have to lose them!” Madison yelled. “We can't answer any more questions or appear in any more pictures. This is insane!”
    Clarence nodded. Just ahead, a bus was pulling away from its stop, veering quickly into the middle lane. He floored the accelerator.
    The limo shook.
    The girls screamed.
    Champagne barked and yipped in Lex's arms.
    Gripping the wheel tightly, Clarence shot past the bus, narrowly missing its bumper. In the rearview mirror he saw one of the vans skid to a stop. “Ha!” he said. “We lost one of 'em. One