Page 3 of Don't Say a Word

She didn’t mean here, physically; she meant dead.

Nico understood and said, “I’ve worked so many of these cases they’re a blur.”

He sounded discouraged and sad. Josie didn’t want to think of Elijah Martinez as a statistic, one of many, lost and broken. He was a son. Maybe a brother. A friend. A student. And until last night, he’d had a future.

Josie wasn’t going to easily get past his death. Maybe she didn’t want to. Maybe, if she found out the how and the why, she could do something to help fix this crisis.

“I’ll talk to the school,” Josie said. “I’ll convince the principal to give me a forum.”

“Good,” Nico said. “I’m not really as cynical as I sound, but I have to stay detached or I can’t do the job.”

Cops—and apparently CSIs—compartmentalized so they couldhandle difficult and tragic cases, then go home to live a relatively normal life with normal relationships.

But sometimes, it was hard. And Josie did care—a lot. If she stopped caring, she’d have to quit being a cop. Make yet another career change after a long line of career changes.

If she could prevent another kid from ending up like Elijah Martinez, she’d talk to every school in Phoenix. Would it help? She didn’t know, but it couldn’t hurt.

She glanced at the tree behind the crime scene tape, knowing a young man lay dead under the tarp.I have to do something, she told herself.

Josie had no idea the can of worms she’d open when she spoke to the student body the following week.

Chapter One

Margo Angelhart

I love my family. Every single one of them, from my brothers and sisters and parents and grandparents to every aunt, uncle, cousin, and cousin-by-marriage. I love them when they annoy me, argue, or agree. The Morales family and everyone who came from them—the Orozcos, Garcias, Angelharts, and more—put the unconditional love of family above all.

You know Zazu fromThe Lion King? The brightly colored bird who commented that there was “one” problem in every family—and two in his? Yep, the Angelhart-Morales clan had more than two, like my cousin Pedro, who fell down every conspiracy theory rabbit hole he tripped over. If I had a dollar for every time he called wanting me to investigate some wild idea—like the time he put six different news stories together to prove the governor had been replaced by a look-alike—my mortgage would be paid. I love him, but thankfully he lived out of state and I only saw him once in a blue moon.

But Pedro wasn’t the wackiest character in our family.

Today, it was my older sister, Tess. As I ate one of the breakfast burritos I’d brought in for the office, I considered hopping in myJeep and heading to my grandparents’ cabin in Pinetop, cell phone off. Just me and the open road.

Tess was driving me up a wall. Yes, she was planning a wedding. Yes, she had “only” seven months left. Yes, she was nervous because she had two failed engagements before falling for Dr. Gabriel Rubio. But if she changed her mind about the bridesmaid dressesone more time, I would stand next to her in jeans and a T-shirt.

“You’re my maid of honor,” Tess said as I poured myself a cup of coffee and wished I had some whiskey to dump in. Hell, I’d drink the whiskey straight even though it was eight thirty in the morning and I didn’t evenlikewhiskey.

“Yep,” I said. “I promise, you’ll have the best bachelorette party ever. In March. Six months from now.” Meaning, I didn’t want to talk about it because I hadn’t thought about it. Because—six months away.

I’d looked up all the duties of a maid of honor, and there were a lot, but Mom was taking care of most of them because she wanted to. Thank God. I don’t think I would survive until Tess’s wedding day if I were responsible for everything that the books told me I was responsible for.

“We’re getting married in April!”

“That’s what the invitations say.” Which were at the printer, so she couldn’t change them.

“I can’t go with the burgundy I love. It just won’t work!”

“Why? Is it against the law?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Margo,” Tess said. “It’s spring. Burgundy is a fall or winter color. I want something light, something that says spring and birth.”

“Are you pregnant?”

Tess’s eyes widened and she practically blushed. “Margo!” she snapped.

“What? You’re the one that saidbirth.”

“Stop.”