Page 82 of Don't Say a Word
Cal ran back to his office, grabbed his gun, and left the building.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Margo Angelhart
Angie texted me that she had the yearbooks and would be out after her last class. I arrived early, so parked down the street from the high school.
As kids started to trickle out of the building, my cell phone rang with a blocked number. I answered.
“Angelhart.”
“This is Chris Vallejo. You left a message for me.”
“Thanks for calling me back,” I said. I kept an eye on the exit because I didn’t know how Angie would feel about me talking to her ex-boyfriend.
I gave him the basics about what I was working on, and said, “You graduated, but you knew Elijah pretty well, correct?”
“Yeah. We hung out sometimes with my girlfriend.”
“Angie Williams.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Am I wrong?”
“You’re right. Have you talked to Angie?”
“Yes,” I said. No use lying. If Chris and Angie talked later, Ididn’t want either of them to think I was being deceptive. “She’s given me her impressions. I’d like yours.”
“Elijah was a nice guy. I wasn’t close to him, we didn’t have any classes together or anything. He was Angie’s friend. But we hung out.”
“No jealousy on his part? Yours?”
He laughed. “Nothing like that. He had a crush on Gina—Angie’s best friend—but Gina only thinks about volleyball. She plays year-round. There’s no weird love triangle going on. Elijah was a good guy, and I had a job so I was glad Angie had someone else to hang with.”
Very Zen of a teenage boy about his girlfriend and another guy. Men and women could of course be friends, but in high school that acceptance seemed mature.
“Did you ever see Elijah on drugs? Or talk about drugs? Most of the people I’ve spoken to said no, but he died of a drug overdose, so I need to be certain.”
“I never saw him take anything. Angie wouldn’t put up with that shit. Um—well, her mom is an addict. Not like a major addict, she has a job and everything, but she is pretty much drunk or stoned when she’s not working. And probably stoned when she is working.”
“That must be hard on Angie. And on you, dating her.”
“Hey, we’re not our parents. My dad is a prick. Sure, he works his ass off but he makes sure we know it.” He paused, as if realizing he hadn’t wanted to say so much. I read between the lines. “Anyway,” Chris continued, “Angie doesn’t remember a time when her mom was sober. So yeah, it bothered her. She wouldn’t put up with a friend getting high. Once I got drunk with some friends of mine, just the guys, but I don’t drink a lot and I was wasted. I called her, she knew I was drunk, and she didn’t speak to me for a week. I apologized. She forgave me, but I knew it was a onetime free pass. She doesn’t want to be around that.”
“But you’re not seeing each other now.”
“She—we thought it would be best if we broke up before I went to college.”
I wondered whose idea it really was.
“She didn’t tell me that Elijah died, I heard it from someone else. I tried to call her—but anyway...” He cut himself off.
“Your brother works at the Cactus Stop?” I said, changing subjects. “Did he know Elijah?”
“Sure, through Angie and me. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m trying to figure out how everyone is connected and who might have known where Elijah went when he got off work the night he died.”
