Page 21 of Don’t Say a Word (Angelhart Investigations #2)

Chapter Sixteen

Angie Williams

Angie wished she hadn’t gone to school today. All anyone talked about was Mrs. Clark’s murder.

Two girls from Gina’s volleyball team gave Angie the side-eye during break, reminding her that a mom had seen her arguing with Mrs. Clark outside the gym.

In every class, all people wanted to do was talk about Mrs. Clark.

Everyone wanted to tell a story. Angie hated talking in groups, so kept her mouth shut.

It was unnerving when everyone stared at her.

Then the kicker: Right after lunch, Angie was called out of class.

Mrs. Webb, the vice-principal, was waiting for her.

Cutting classes had caught up with her, Angie thought. Whatever, she’d take detention. She’d rather be in detention than go home.

“I need you to come to the office,” Mrs. Webb said. “I’ll clear it with your teachers.” She started walking toward the administration building, the keys she wore around her wrist rattling with each step. Angie followed.

“Why?” she asked. “What did I do?” Never volunteer information. There was a chance this had nothing to do with cutting classes.

“The police are here to talk to you about Mrs. Clark.”

Her stomach fell and she felt sick.

“Oh. Why me?”

Maybe there were notes in Mrs. Clark’s files about all the times Angie came in to talk to her about Elijah’s murder. Maybe they wanted to know what they talked about. Maybe Margo Angelhart was right, and Mrs. Clark was killed because she learned something about Elijah.

Maybe the police would finally do something. It just sucked that Mrs. Clark had to die first.

“Mr. Borel and I will be in the room with you,” Mrs. Webb continued. “The police are speaking to several students and teachers who saw Mrs. Clark in the hours before... what happened.”

Why couldn’t she just say murdered ? Angie didn’t know why adults always couched hard truths. She was seventeen. She’d seen a lot of shit.

“If you would prefer to have your mother in the room, I can make that happen.”

“No,” Angie said quickly. The last person she wanted was her mother in a room with cops. Totally embarrassing. “She works today, and she’ll be pissed if she gets called to the school.”

“If you feel uncomfortable, you can end the interview. But it would benefit you to be completely honest about everything, understand?”

Angie nodded. This was all beginning to sound very formal.

Mrs. Webb used her card key to enter the administrative building. Angie glanced down the hall and saw yellow crime scene tape blocking Mrs. Clark’s door. Her stomach dropped. This felt surreal.

Mrs. Webb led her to the conference room.

There were no external windows, and the blinds on the windows that looked out into the hall were closed.

The dark oblong table had eight oversized chairs.

Water bottles, note pads, and pencils were neatly arranged on top of the credenza.

A stack of folders with the Sun Valley High School emblem were to one side.

Mr. Borel was there, and he motioned for Angie to sit across from the two detectives. She dropped her backpack to her feet and sat; Mrs. Webb sat next to her.

Mr. Borel said, “Angie, this is Detective King and Detective Chavez. They’re investigating Mrs. Clark’s murder and talking to everyone who saw her yesterday.”

“Okay,” Angie said.

Mrs. Webb said, “Would you like a water?” Angie nodded, and Mrs. Webb reached behind her for a bottle. It would give her something to do with her hands.

King, the woman detective, had been in charge of Elijah’s investigation. Angie hadn’t met her before, but Mrs. Clark had talked about her, and Angie had left a message on her voicemail asking why she’d closed the case. Of course the detective never called her back.

“Angela Williams?” King asked.

“Angie,” she said.

“You weren’t at school yesterday, but came to campus in the afternoon, correct?”

“Yeah. To watch the volleyball game.” Great, now she would probably get in trouble for cutting.

“A witness says that they saw you and Mrs. Clark arguing outside the gym. What were you arguing about?”

Angie shrugged.

“You don’t remember?” King said.

“I do. I promised Mrs. Clark I wouldn’t cut any more school.”

“That’s all you were arguing about?”

“Mostly.”

“And?”

What was she supposed to say? That no one cares about what happened to Elijah? That she didn’t do her job?

“Angie,” Mrs. Webb said, “if it’s personal, you can say that. We’re simply trying to figure out what happened.”

“Someone killed her,” Angie said. “Just like someone killed Elijah, but you don’t care about him .”

King frowned. “Is that why you left an irate voicemail on my phone, because you think I don’t care about your friend?”

“You don’t care. You still think it was his fault he died.”

She tried to control her temper. It wasn’t going to help anyone if she yelled at cops.

“Did you talk to Mrs. Clark about the police investigation?” King asked.

“Yeah. I said it sucked that you closed the case. And she said that a private investigator was—” Angie cut herself off. Maybe she shouldn’t say anything about Margo Angelhart.

“A private investigator is looking into Elijah’s death?” Chavez, the other cop, asked. He didn’t look like he was surprised, and he sounded much nicer than the woman.

“Yeah,” Angie said, glancing up at Chavez before averting her gaze back to her unopened water bottle.

“Elijah’s mom hired someone. The PI talked to Mrs. Clark, and Mrs. Clark said she wanted to talk to me and asked if I would come to her office during lunch today.

But obviously... well... that’s not going to happen now. ”

She didn’t tell the cops that she spoke to Margo this morning.

Maybe she should. But it wasn’t relevant, was it?

And what would they do? Could they tell the PI to stop investigating Elijah’s death?

That it was a police matter? Angie had no idea what the rules were, and she didn’t want to get Margo in trouble.

She was the first person who actually sounded like she wanted the truth as much as Angie.

King was writing, and Chavez said, “Two people reported that the argument between you and Mrs. Clark was heated.”

What was she supposed to say? “Maybe. I was just... I don’t know, mad about the whole thing.”

Mrs. Webb said, “Angie, there’s no need for you to be upset.”

She hadn’t thought she sounded upset. She tried to temper her tone, but the anger came out. She looked at Mrs. Webb and said, “They don’t care. They don’t care about Elijah, and when Mrs. Clark’s murder gets hard, they’re not going to care about her either.”

“That’s not true,” Chavez said. “I can assure you, we will find out who killed Lena Clark.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled.

“After you left the game, where did you go?” Chavez asked.

Angie shot a glance at Mr. Borel. Both the principal and the school secretary knew she’d gone to Mrs. Clark’s office, so she couldn’t lie about that.

“I went to her office—she said I could pick up some college stuff she left for me.”

“You told Mrs. Villines, the secretary, that you were meeting with Mrs. Clark.”

Angie shrugged. “I don’t remember. She said I could borrow her SAT book. I ran into Mr. Borel outside her office.”

He nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

“What time was that?” Chavez asked.

“I don’t know,” Angie said. “It was right after the last volleyball game.”

Mr. Borel said, “I couldn’t say the exact time, to be honest. I’d been working in my office and left to make a copy, saw Angie in Mrs. Clark’s office. Around five, take or leave a few minutes, is my guess.”

King wrote it down.

“Anyone else?”

“I heard a couple people talking outside the doors, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone so went out the front.”

“Why?” King asked.

“Because I cut school and didn’t want to be lectured.”

Mrs. Webb frowned but didn’t say anything. Angie probably shouldn’t have mentioned cutting school. But they already knew, so what was the big deal?

“Who did you hear talking?” King asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

She thought back, trying to remember. There had been a jingle or something, maybe jewelry. Mrs. Clark always wore a lot of jewelry.

“You and Mrs. Clark had an argument and then you went to her office because she left material for you, but you told the receptionist that you were meeting with her.”

“So what?”

She was being defensive, but did they—they couldn’t think that she had killed Mrs. Clark.

“I think you’re an angry teenager,” King said. “You lash out when you don’t get your way, without considering the repercussions.”

Detective King thought that Angie was a killer; she could hear it in her tone. She almost couldn’t breathe.

Chavez immediately cut in, his voice soothing and calm, “Angie, we need to piece together an exact timeline, which includes knowing exactly where you went after you left. We’re not just talking to you.

We spoke to several staff members and students.

Your cooperation will help us pinpoint exactly what happened and when it happened. ”

“I didn’t kill her,” Angie blurted.

“We’re not implying you did,” Chavez said.

Angie glared at King. “She did.”

“We want the truth,” King said. “You said that you left the campus just before five. Where did you go?”

“To the Cactus Stop.”

“Which one?”

“On Hatcher.”

“What did you buy?”

She told them, not knowing why this was important.

“And then?”

“I started walking home. I had to pass the school. I saw police cars, so I called my friend Gina. She picked me up and I went to her house for dinner. She took me home around eight. We sat in the car for a while talking.”

“Gina Martinelli,” Mrs. Webb told the two detectives.

Great, the police were going to talk to Gina, and then her mom and dad, and maybe they wouldn’t let Angie come over anymore. This day, this year , couldn’t get any worse. Chris went to college, Elijah was killed, and her last remaining friend would be forbidden to see her.

King said, “Did you see anyone when you were leaving Mrs. Clark’s office?”

“I told you. Mr. Borel. And there were some kids hanging around in the courtyard, but I don’t know who.

And the people coming in when I was leaving, I didn’t see them.

One might have been Mrs. Clark—I heard the jingle of jewelry or something, she always wears a lot of necklaces and bracelets and stuff. But I didn’t talk to her.”

King and Chavez exchanged a look, then King said, “We may have more questions, but you can go now.”

Angie grabbed her backpack and left as fast as she could without running. Had she just made everything worse?

She didn’t want to go back to class. She walked out, ignoring Mrs. Villines calling after her. She walked down the street to the bus stop.

They thought she killed Mrs. Clark. King didn’t like her, that was totally obvious.

Well, she didn’t care. Angie wasn’t going to take back anything she’d said.

She didn’t know what to do. Maybe she shouldn’t have talked to the police at all, but she didn’t think she’d had a choice. Could she have refused? Asked for a lawyer or something? She almost laughed. With what money? They hadn’t arrested her or read her any rights. That had to mean something.

She didn’t know. She didn’t like crime shows; they were depressing. She liked to read, but mostly fantasy. Nothing real.

Nothing felt real right now.

The bus came—it wasn’t the one that went straight down to the Central Library, but Angie got on it anyway. It was too hot to wait for the right bus, so she’d have to transfer, but that would give her time to think.

Angie pulled out her phone and saw a series of text messages from Chris that she had ignored last night.

Call me.

You’re being stubborn. I know you don’t want to be my girlfriend anymore, I get it even if I disagree with all your reasons and think you’re wrong. But I’ll always be your friend. Call me, tell me what happened to Elijah.

Then, late last night, he texted:

omg I just heard about Mrs. Clark. Angie, are you awake? Please call.

An hour later he sent a final message.

I still love you—even though you are totally stubborn and impossible to communicate with. I hate when you ignore me. If you don’t want to talk to me, call Benny—he’s your friend too.

She leaned back in the corner of the bus and thought about Chris, Benny, Elijah, and how everything fell apart.

She’d do anything to go back six months to when she thought her life was nearly perfect. Before her mother brought home yet another asshole to live with them. Before Elijah started working. Before she told Chris they had to break up.

Before Elijah died and Mrs. Clark was murdered.