Page 46 of Don't Say a Word
“Um, yeah?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I don’t work Fridays.”
“Who worked here Friday with him?”
“Desi, she’s the manager.”
“When does she come in next?”
“Friday. She only works weekends.”
“Did Elijah leave his backpack here?”
“Backpack?”
Why did he answer a question with a question?
“Yes,” I said.
“I don’t think so. I haven’t seen it.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said, though he hadn’t been all that helpful. “I’ll come back on Friday and talk to Desi.”
“Okay.”
I stepped outside, paused, and angled myself near the door, casually opening my water while discreetly watching the teen through the glass. I’d talk to Desi, sure, but if she was as helpful as Tony, I might need Manny Ramos to make a call. And I wasn’t waiting until Friday.
I pulled out my phone, called Theo, then put it to my ear.
The teen immediately went to the counter and said something to Tony. I was a more than decent lip reader, but he wasn’t facing me.
Tony glanced out the door, saw me. Theo answered and I laughed, then said, “Ignore me, don’t hang up. Just play along.”
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he said in his best Humphrey Bogart impression.
I laughed again. I had learned the hard way the first year I was a PI that having a blank smartphone to your ear was obvious. So unless you were talking on a flip phone without a lit screen, you needed to actually call someone, even if it was just to leave a message on your own answering machine.
Tony must not have been suspicious of me, because he rang up whatever the kid was purchasing. He was likely selling cigarettes, nicotine pouches, or alcohol to underage kids because the teen hadn’t put anything on the counter to buy. A crime, but it happened all the time. And would that be a reason to kill someone? I didn’t see it.
An accident? A dark joke that went very wrong? I could see someone drugging Elijah, just like what happened to Bobby.
The teen put an EBT card into the card reader. I could tell based on the color; it was the same type of card the mom had used earlier. That really pissed me off. EBT cards were for food and necessities, not for cigarettes and alcohol. That was certainly a crime, if the store was selling unauthorized goods and ringing them up as authorized.
Yet, the teen left without any merchandise, and I hadn’t seen him pocket anything but his receipt, though I may have missed it. He looked too young to buy cigarettes, but I wasn’t ATF, and I didn’t care if the store was selling to minors. It was the EBT card that had my hackles raised. I detested people who gamed the system at the expense of others.
But I had no proof.
I waited to see if Tony called anyone about my visit; he didn’t. Either he didn’t care, or he expected me to return Friday and talk to Desi.
I said, “Thanks, Theo,” hung up, and walked to my car. I drank my water and munched on my Doritos, watching the store. Several people, mostly under twenty, entered and left without bags, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. It just seemed... unusual. Could be nothing, but I’d run it by Rick during lunch, see if he knew if there might be a scam in play.
The Cactus Stop was ground zero in my investigation. No one had come forward to tell police or his mother where Elijah had gone after work Friday night. Had the police even talked to this Desi?
I glanced at my watch. I had three hours until lunch. I pulled out of my parking spot and drove home so I could track down Danielle Duran and find out if she still held a grudge against Elijah for ratting her out to the teacher.
Angie had been compelling in advocating for her friend. From what little I knew about Elijah, it seemed out of character that he would take something like fentanyl. Maybe his death was an accident, revenge, or prank gone wrong. Maybe he thought he was taking something else.
