Page 13 of Don't Say a Word

“Why wouldn’t she?” The inspeak was a bit over my head, but I knew DEB was the Drug Enforcement Bureau and I surmised they generally worked drug-related crimes.

“Like I said, no sign of foul play. And besides, they’re also understaffed. Still,” Josie added, “DEB is better positioned to determine if Elijah’s death fits into a pattern. They could launch a larger investigation.”

That doesn’t help Elijah’s mom, I thought.

“If I find something, can you get it to the DEB without getting slapped?” I asked.

“No problem,” she said without hesitation. “Like I said, my boss has my back. I just need something tangible—a witness, catch someone in a lie, even a rumor, if it’s something we can follow up on. If you have a suspicion about where Elijah got the drugs, I’ll get it to the right people.”

“That helps,” I said. “I don’t want you getting in trouble, but if you can send me a copy of the police report that would be great.”

“I’ll swing by the Desert Horizon station and email it to you.”

“But I’m supposed to fill out forms and get the report weekslater, right?” Police reports were public information, but there was a bureaucratic process I usually had to use.

“I’ll fill out the form for you. Dot myi’s and all that, but there’s no reason I can’t give it to you as long as I document that you requested it.”

“It’s nice having friends and family in high places.”

Josie laughed. We chatted, but my mind was only half there. I wanted to talk to the guidance counselor and then to Elijah’s friends. Find out everything they knew... and then retrace Elijah’s steps.

Out of everything Josie told me, those five missing hours seemed to be most important. Where had Elijah gone after leaving work?

Someone saw him. Someone talked to him.

Someone had given or sold him the drugs.

Finding out where Elijah had been during those missing hours would tell me if he OD’d accidentally... or if someone killed him.

Chapter Four

Jack Angelhart

After serving warrants in Peoria near Lake Pleasant, Jack spent the drive back downtown thinking about how to approach Rachel King. They’d worked together a few times back when he was still a detective. As he’d told Margo, Rachel wasn’t a bad cop. But she wasn’t a good one either, at least in Jack’s book.

He needed to tread carefully. Test the waters with King. Or maybe he could just as easily go around her, reach out to his former partner instead. Most of the cops he’d worked with were happy to help him now as a PI, but he couldn’t afford to be careless. If anyone got the idea he was going after a cop, they’d shut him out fast.

Not that he was targeting King—she hadn’t done anything wrong. Even if he could convince her he was only chasing down leads for a grieving mother, she still might slap him down.

Jack had always been the diplomat of the family. He’d inherited his mother’s shrewdness and his father’s bedside manner. Honesty, more often than not, had served him well. And it suited him—lying had never come easy.

When his phone rang and Laura’s name and photo lit up the screen, Jack grinned, a wave of giddiness washing over him.

Since his divorce three years ago, he’d rarely dated, and when he had, it never progressed beyond a few dinners and polite goodbyes. Whitney had been his one true love until she pulled the rug out from under him.

Then, two and a half months ago, Laura walked into his life. And just like that, he was “smitten” as his Abuela would’ve said.

Funny how love finds you when you’re not even looking.

“Hello,” he answered, the sound of her voice dialing his grin up another notch.

“Hi, Jack. Driving back from the Fitzpatrick ranch out in Black Canyon City, thought I’d return your call.”

Laura was a veterinarian who co-owned a clinic. She often made house calls because her specialty was farm animals, and her love was for horses.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Routine visit. They have eight mares and a stallion, so I go up twice a year to check on them. All healthy, one of the mares is pregnant. They suspected she was—I confirmed and estimate she’s three months along. She has a long way to go. Anyway, sorry I missed your call this morning, cell service up there is spotty.”