Page 96 of Don't Say a Word
“You think Elijah might have turned him in to management or something?” Maybe Tony got a slap on the wrist and took it out on Elijah.
Benny shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not going to. Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not looking at you in any way.”
“You are. I don’t want to be around it any more than you, but Ineedthe job. I’m already looking for something else, but I should stick it out a few months and then maybe find a job at one of the malls over Christmas. If I don’t find something that sticks, I have to work for my dad next summer.”
Mr. Vallejo owned a small construction company that worked primarily for larger companies on a project-by-project basis. Chris had worked for his dad every summer. He got paid, but it was grueling work, especially in the heat, and Mr. Vallejo was as big a jerk on the job as he was at home. The only benefit, Chris had told her, was that his dad paid well, almost as much as he paid his regular crew.
Angie didn’t know what she wanted from Benny. “Just be careful. It’s not a great area, and I’m worried that maybe Elijah witnessed a crime or something like that.”
“You really don’t think he died of an overdose?”
“No, not on purpose.”
Except the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she was projecting. The Elijahsheknew wouldn’t have gotten so high that he curled up and died in a park. But maybe he had changed.
They walked through the courtyard in silence as people talked in pairs or groups, laughing or complaining. When they reached the corridor that separated the new building from the old, Benny stopped and faced her. “After that PI talked to Tony, Desi—the manager—came in and ranted to him. I didn’t hear everything she said, but she was mad about something. It seemed weird.”
“Weird how?”
He shrugged. “I just do my job and keep my head down. It’s what I have to do so I don’t have to work for my dad.”
He knew something, she realized. But he wasn’t going to tell her.
She pulled out Margo’s card from her pocket and handed it to Benny. “If you need help, or see something illegal, call her.”
He took the card, nodded, but Angie didn’t know if he would call.
He gave her a quick hug. “I gotta go, I have chemistry first period.”
She watched him leave.
She didn’t want to go to class, but she couldn’t cut anymore. She slowly headed to her first period class. Gina was with a group of her volleyball friends and waved at her; Angie waved back, but didn’t join them. The others weren’t her friends, and Angie always felt uncomfortable around them. She was acutely aware that people were nice to her for the last two years because she’d been dating Chris, who was generally liked and didn’t care if he wasn’t. This year? She might as well have been invisible.
“Angie, we need to talk.” Mrs. Webb, the vice principal, looked as stern and unfriendly as usual as she approached Angie.
“I’m going to English.”
“I’ll walk with you,” she said, heading down the corridor without waiting for Angie to agree.
“I’ve been going through Mrs. Clark’s records,” Mrs. Webb said. “She erased your absences last week. But I spoke to your teachers and you’ve only been to a couple of classes for nearly two weeks.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s been fuc—a tough week.”
She didn’t want this conversation.
“I’m not unsympathetic to the fact that you lost a friend, but you need to focus onyou. And you didn’t go to your classes yesterday afternoon.”
Angie didn’t say anything.
“Did you leave campus because of the police?”
“They didn’t do anything about Elijah’s death, but Mrs. Clark is killed and they suddenly care?”
She didn’t want to talk to Mrs. Webb, but it just came out.
“Elijah died of a drug overdose. Mrs. Clark was murdered. Two very different things.”
