Page 116 of Don't Say a Word

“Eric, help me. A name. A teacher. An administrator. A student who didn’t get caught up in the sting.”

“I don’t know any specific person,” he said, “but yeah, there was someone else. Someone that Coach took orders from. I told that to the police when I agreed to turn state’s evidence. If I knew who it was, I would have told them because my immunity deal required it. I suspected, but I had no knowledge. I couldn’t evenguess who. Just like I didn’t know where he got the drugs. All I did was what he told me to do, and I regret every single minute.”

I believed him. “Who was Scott close to?”

“You mean, like a teacher?” He thought on it. “Other than Coach? No one. He wasn’t a good student, always in trouble, got detention practically every week. I swear he spent more time in the vice principal’s office than he did in class. He didn’t have friends outside of the football team either. Except Megan.”

I handed him my card. “If you think of anyone, call me.”

“I don’t think you understand who these people are. If I were you, I’d walk away.”

“Elijah’s mom deserves to know why her son was killed.”

“Is the truth worth losing your life?”

“I’ve been a PI for eight years,” I said. “I’ll find the truth and turn it over to the police.”

“To be honest, I’m glad I didn’t know anything more than I did. You know why? They would have sent someone better than Scott to kill me.”

“They?” I asked.

“Whoever was in charge. Whoever Coach answered to. I have to go to work. Don’t come by here again. I don’t know anything else that will help you.”

I walked to my Jeep. Eric had turned all the information over to the police—probably Hitchner, the head of the task force. I still wanted to talk to him, but didn’t know how to convince him to talk to me.

If there was someone above the coach, it might not be someone at the school. It could be someone he knew in his personal life, his neighborhood, his family, a parent, hell, it could have been a local drug dealer. God knew Phoenix had plenty of them. It would make sense that they would set up a completely new operation. At the school? Maybe. He drove down to Yuma at least once a month, ostensibly to pick up his supply. Hitchner believed his supplier was somewhere along that route... and the supplier could have recruited another dealer.

As all this was going through my head, I didn’t notice the older model black 4Runner until I pulled away from the curb.

It was the same vehicle I’d seen when I left the O’Reilly house.

Someone was following me.

I pretended I didn’t see him as I drove away. The driver was white with dark hair, probably thirties, but it was hard to tell because he was smart enough to park down the street and wear dark sunglasses. When I passed him, he was looking at his phone as if he wasn’t following me. Just like he had been doing outside the O’Reilly house.

I didn’t believe that for a minute.

I headed toward the Cactus Stop on Hatcher, though I didn’t intend to go in. I was just trying to see what Mr. 4Runner would do.

He didn’t follow me. Okay, maybe I was paranoid. Maybe there was a reason for him to be outside Sunnyslope Middle School, then the McMahon house.

My phone vibrated, but it was an unknown caller, so I sent it to voicemail. I needed to stay alert in case the 4Runner showed up again.

Maybe I’d gotten on someone’s radar. Questions had a way of doing that. I considered Eric’s warning, and a chill went down my spine. I needed to stay on alert.

I headed down the side street past Edith Mackey’s house, toward Sun Valley High School. A girl up ahead with long dark hair half dyed pink looked just like Angie.

Dammit. ShewasAngie.

I pulled over and honked.

Angie jumped, then recognized me. I motioned for her to get in my car.

“Were you at the Cactus Stop?” I asked as soon as she closed the door.

She hesitated.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep a low profile?”