Page 37 of Don't Say a Word

“About?”

“Something I don’t really want to tell the police.”

“You can’t withhold information in a homicide investigation.”

“I know, so I’m going to avoid them as long as I can.”

“What’s going on?” Jack demanded. He sounded kind of angry.

“Bad dinner?”

“I’m not talking about Whitney,” he snapped. “What was your conversation with Lena about?”

“To arrange a meeting with Elijah’s friend Angie. She also told me Angie has my business card and may call me herself.”

“Okay, so? Why don’t you want to tell the police?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell them about the conversation, but I don’t want it getting back to Detective King that I’m working on Elijah Martinez’s death investigation. Lena said that Angie left an angry message on King’s voicemail Friday. I’d like to talk to the kid first, get her side of the story.”

“I don’t think you need to avoid the police, but I understand the need to have as much information as possible before talking to them.”

“I’m only answering their direct and relevant questions,” I said.

Jack and I had a slightly different style when it came to working with law enforcement. Jack was always on their side, which I understood since he’d been a cop. I wasn’t. Not because cops were generally bad—I knew many and that wasn’t true—but because they didn’t always have my client’s best interests at heart. I didn’t want to jam Angie or anyone else.

“Let me find out who’s investigating the homicide. King isn’t the only detective in Violent Crimes.”

“And maybe find out if they have a suspect?”

“I’ll see what I can learn. Don’t avoid giving your statement for too long.”

“I won’t, but I’m not saying a word until they track me down. By the way, thanks for the file on the Bradfords. Tomorrow, I’m meeting with Rick about it.”

“Why Rick?”

“He led the team that executed the search warrant. Lenny’s at twelve thirty, if you want to join us.”

Jack snorted. “You don’t want to be alone with him?”

“Knock it off.” He was partly right, and I didn’t want to talk about it. “Let me know what you learn and if the police show up at the office to talk to me.”

“Don’t avoid them for too long.”

“Roger that.” I ended the call and considered what Lena Clark’s murder meant. While I couldn’t seehowher murder was connected to a teenager’s overdose, what were the odds that she’d end up dead only hours after I met with her about Elijah?

Had she learned something she hadn’t shared with me over the phone? Did she suspect where he got the drugs? Had she confronted one of his friends at the volleyball game? What did she know that was so dangerous someone killed her on campus? It was risky and reckless.

I needed to talk to Angie Williams as soon as possible. I called Theo. “I’m going to send you an address and a photo of a teenager. She lives in an apartment on Nineteenth, south of Dunlap. Be discreet.”

“Always am.”

“Get there by six thirty—I suspect she’ll leave between seven and seven-thirty for school, but earlier is better.” If they didn’t cancel classes, which was a definite possibility after a campus murder. But if I had a home life like I suspected she did, I might leave just to get out of the apartment.

“I’m on it, Boss.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Theo.”

Chapter Twelve