Page 88 of Don't Say a Word

Then she closed the door, and I stood there a moment, considering.

I walked over to the vet clinic. They were open, and I considered talking to the vet, but through the window I saw two people with animals in the waiting room. I would come back. Maybe they had cameras I could look at, but they likely didn’t keep video for long. Most businesses wiped recordings every few days because of data storage limits.

I stood in the spot where I suspected Elijah had been taking pictures. He could sit behind the wall and not be seen, easily take photos through a section of wall that had crumbled. I lookedaround and, not seeing anything dangerous like used needles or broken glass, sat. Bingo. This was the exact angle. This was where Elijah sat damn near every night for two months.

He’d told his mom he was going to a night class, but he had taken the class online. Instead, he’d sat on asphalt looking through a hole in the wall. Why?

That was the million-dollar question, but I had that tingle. The tingle that said this was important.

During the drive to Flannigan’s to meet Jessica Oliver, I called Josie.

“Hey,” Josie answered.

“You working?”

“Yep. What do you need?”

“There was a dead woman on the corner of Hatcher across from the Cactus Stop, behind the veterinary clinic,” I said. “She died of a possible OD on a Sunday morning over the summer. A neighbor called it in about ten thirty. Can you look up the case for me? Pretty please?”

“Is this related to Elijah Martinez?”

“Maybe.”

“Not a problem, but I’m heading to a call right now. Is an hour or two okay?”

“Absolutely, go save the world, Pussycat.”

I heard a deep laugh coming from the car—a laugh that wasn’t Josie.

“Pussycat?” I heard faintly and realized that Josie’s partner was in the car. Sometimes day shift rode together, sometimes they rode single, but how was I supposed to know Josie wasn’t alone?

“I will kill you,” Josie said and hung up.

Whoops.

I thought back to what Angie had told me. Elijah loved his job when he was hired in March. They hadn’t seen each other much over the summer, and when they started school the second week of August, he had changed, was preoccupied. Angie didn’t knowwhy. Elijah asked Andy’s mother if she had an opening in her house-cleaning business. He was looking to quit, I deduced... but he hadn’t quit.

What had changed? Why hadn’t he quit if he was miserable at his job?

Could this girl’s death have been the catalyst? Had he known her?

I hoped Josie got back to me sooner rather than later.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Margo Angelhart

Detective Jessica Oliver was younger than I expected—under thirty—with a petite build, short dark hair and large blue eyes. Cherub cute. Definitely didn’t look like a cop.

She walked straight toward me and said, “Margo?”

“That’s me. Thanks for coming, Jessica.”

“Call me Jessie,” she said and slid into the booth across from me. “I remember your brother. I had my shield for about a year when he left the force.”

“You made detective young.”

She laughed. “Maybe, but I became a cop when I was nineteen. My grandpa was a deputy sheriff in Pima County, my dad was a US marshal and my mom worked in the Secret Service, financial crimes. Which is what I was interested in after hearing some of her stories. My sister is currently in the DEA training academy, and it’s my brother who betrayed the family,” she added lightly.