Page 113 of Don't Say a Word
“Some bum probably stole it,” Angie said.
“What do you think happened?” Peter asked.
“I think someone killed him.”
“Isn’t that weird? That someone killed Elijah, then Mrs. Clark is killed?” Andy said.
It was, and Angie hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The school office had been quiet Monday afternoon, right before Mrs.Clark died. She’d only seen Mrs. Villines and Mr. Borel.
Angie frowned, thinking back to that afternoon. She’d heard someone talking, and a jingle of bracelets or maybe keys. She’d thought it was Mrs. Clark, because she wore a lot of jewelry, but she’d been talking to someone... and it was a familiar voice. But Angie couldn’t quite place it.
“Did the PI show you pictures?” Angie asked.
They both shook their heads.
“I think something was going on at the Cactus Stop,” Angie said.
“Yeah, me too,” Andy said.
“Really?” she asked.
“Elijah was going to quit.”
Why hadn’t he told her? Angie wondered.
They sat quietly for a moment, until Andy and Peter startedtalking about the girls on the team—Andy had a crush on the only sophomore on the varsity team. Angie let her mind drift, thinking about her argument with Mrs. Clark, about what Margo had told her, about Benny and his job.
She was worried about him. She knew why he couldn’t quit, but she didn’t want anything to happen to him. Did Benny take her seriously this morning? Should she let Chris know that something weird was going on at the Cactus Stop?
She was surprised to see Mr. Parsons walk into the gym. He looked around the stands, and when he saw her, he put up his hand. He wanted to talk toher?
“I gotta go,” she said to Andy and Peter. “See you later.”
She clomped down the bleachers toward a very pale and tired-looking Mr. Parsons. “Did you want to talk to me?”
“Can we step outside?”
She followed him out and they walked across the blacktop toward the football field, but she didn’t think he was taking her anywhere specific. She didn’t know what to say, but felt like she had to say something.
“Um, I’m really sorry about what happened to Mrs. Clark. I really hate that she thought I was mad at her.”
He stopped walking when they reached the benches that ran along chain-link fencing. He sat. She hesitated, then sat next to him.
“Lena understood,” he said quietly. “She liked you quite a bit.”
That made her feel worse.
“My brain is in a fog,” he said. “The police are no closer to finding out who did this.”
“How do you know?”
“They talked to me Monday, and then again yesterday. I heard they talked to you as well.”
“Same detective who closed Elijah’s case. They made it sound as if I had killed her—which I didn’t. I wouldn’t, I swear.”
“You didn’t do anything, Angie. They made it sound as if Ikilled her too. I think it’s just the detective who’s running the investigation, turning everyone into a suspect. I talked to the private investigator on Monday, but with everything that has happened, I don’t remember her name. Did you ever talk to her?”
“Margo Angelhart,” Angie said. “I talked to her a couple of times.”
