Page 40 of Don't Say a Word
The last time she talked to Mrs. Clark, Angie had been mean and yelled at her. Why had she been so angry? It wasn’t Mrs. Clark’s fault that the police were useless. Mrs. Clark was trying to help, and Angie took her frustration and anger out on her.
Now she couldn’t even apologize.
Her cell phone vibrated. It was Chris.
They hadn’t talked in three months. She didn’t want to talk to him now.
Scratch that. She absolutely wanted to talk to Chris, but didn’twant to dump this on him. If she answered, he’d get her to talk. He was good at that.
Benny must have told him about seeing her today.
She declined the call, then texted him.
Going to sleep, call you later.
He immediately texted back.
Call me now. We need to talk.
She responded withlaterand then silenced her phone and turned it facedown so she wouldn’t see any other texts from Chris.
Angie looked at the card she’d taken from Mrs. Clark’s desk, flipped it over and over in her fingers. It was getting late, and she didn’t want the PI to come here while her mom and Bruce were wasted. And Angie wasn’t an idiot—she wasn’t going out at night to meet someone she didn’t know.
She’d call Margo Angelhart tomorrow.
Chapter Thirteen
Margo Angelhart
I left my house before six thirty in the morning, drove to Black Rock Coffee and turned into the miserably long drive-through lane.
I’d gone to bed late and woke early. I’d sent a spreadsheet of Elijah’s calls to Luisa to reverse identify. He didn’t have many, which suggested he conversed primarily through apps or via text message. I’d show the numbers to Angie when I found her since they likely had common friends. It wasn’t just the investigation that had me tossing and turning; memories of Rick refused to stay buried.
As I waited in line, Josie texted me:
Clark was stabbed with a letter opener that appears to be part of her personal desk set, it was left at the crime scene. Three deep jabs. Body found by teacher Parsons. Autopsy this afternoon.
Brutal and personal, I thought. Lena Clark was petite and could easily be overpowered by someone taller and stronger—man orwoman. Who stood there and let themselves be stabbed without fighting back? Someone who knew and trusted their killer, that’s who. But even if you knew your killer, wouldn’t you try to get away or scream for help?
I rolled my Jeep up a car length, then braked and texted.
Can you get me more deets? Where exactly in her office? Do the police have a suspect? Surveillance? Please and thank you!
I checked in with Theo—so far, no Angie—but he had a good view of the most logical exit from her end of the complex. I hoped Lena was right and Angie would call me, but she hadn’t called last night so I wasn’t holding my breath.
One drug overdose off campus and one homicide on campus, less than two weeks apart. Would the police think they were connected? I doubted they’d make that assumption, but I did.
I still couldn’t reconcile how Elijah ended up at Mountain View Park more than two miles from his home. My guess was a friend with a car. Which meant someone likely knew he was dead before his body was found.
Speculating with minimal information wouldn’t give me insight. I needed to talk to Angie.
After getting iced coffee, I drove by the school to see if it was open; it was. There were two police cars parked outside the administration building, and an officer stood by the main door. Cars were parked in the employee lot, and at least two dozen cars were already in the student lot. The flag had been lowered to half-mast.
As I passed the school, Theo called.
“Yep.”
“Your girl is leaving the building.”
