Page 27 of Don’t Say a Word (Angelhart Investigations #2)

Chapter Nineteen

Angie Williams

Angie didn’t want to go home, so she decided to stop by Mrs. Martinez’s apartment and see how she was doing.

Angie didn’t really want to because she felt uncomfortable around all the sadness.

But she missed Elijah, and Mrs. Martinez had always been nice to her, and she figured Elijah would want her to make sure his mom was okay.

Angie was about to knock on the door when she saw Mrs. Martinez and a man sitting on the small patio.

“Oh. Hi. I’m sorry.” She held out the small bouquet of flowers she’d bought from a street vendor near the library. They were a little wilted from her long bus ride.

“Angie, dear!” Mrs. Martinez stood, hugged her, took the flowers. “You are a such sweet girl.”

“I just, um, wanted to see how you were doing. I can go if you’re busy.”

“No, no, no, please stay. It is always good to have Elijah’s friends over. Mr. Ramos, this is Angie Williams, one of Elijah’s closest friends.”

The man stood and extended his hand to her; she took it, feel ing awkward. He was dressed in a crisp suit with a faint scent of aftershave around him.

“Angie, Angie, so good to meet you. I saw you at the funeral last week.” He looked her in the eyes as he held her hand, somber and serious. “It was good of you to come.”

“Oh. Yeah, you’re Elijah’s boss,” Angie said.

He nodded and dropped her hand. “I own the Cactus Stop. I also went to Sun Valley High School, many, many years ago.”

“Oh.” What should she say? “I just wanted to see how you were, Mrs. Martinez, and see if you, um, needed anything.”

“I need to go.” Mr. Ramos smiled at Angie, then gave Mrs. Martinez a hug. “Again, Alina, please, anything you need at all, you call. I mean it.”

“You have already done more than I would ever expect.”

“I wish you would let me pay for the investigator you hired.”

Mrs. Martinez shook her head. “No, I cannot accept anything more from you. But thank you for all you’ve done, Mr. Ramos.”

“Manny, I’ve told you, please.” He kissed her cheek. “If you change your mind, Alina, please let me know. You have my direct number.”

“Of course,” she said.

He left, walking down the path toward the street.

“Such a kind, kind man,” Mrs. Martinez said. “Let’s get these lovely flowers in water.” She motioned for Angie to follow her inside. She rummaged for a vase under the sink, then filled it with water. She sighed heavily and Angie saw how tired she was.

“Are you okay?” Angie asked her.

She shrugged. “Nights are hard. I go to daily Mass. Father Rafe is very kind, lets me sit all morning, all day, if I need to. But I’ve gone back to work part-time. I think that’s best. Work will keep my mind occupied.”

“Do you have my phone number? I’m happy to help with anything you need. I can go to the store for you.” She’d have to walk or take the bus since she didn’t have her license, but there was a store not too far.

“You are so kind. You were a good friend to Elijah. I would like your number, because someday, not now, but someday—I’ll go through Elijah’s room. There may be something you want that would help you remember him.”

Angie blinked rapidly. She had never known anyone who’d died. Not someone her age. Not her friend.

But she wouldn’t cry in front of Mrs. Martinez.

She wrote her number down on a pad on the refrigerator.

“Do you have enough food and stuff?” Angie asked. “I can cook maybe if you want.”

“I have so much food people have brought by, my freezer is packed.” To illustrate, she opened the freezer door. Inside were dozens of single-serve frozen meals, some homemade, some store bought. “Sit, you have time?”

Angie had no place to be, so she sat at the small kitchen table.

Mrs. Martinez pulled a can of 7UP from the refrigerator and poured it into a glass for Angie. “I remember this is your favorite, like Elijah.”

Angie took a sip. “I talked to Margo Angelhart today about Elijah.”

“Oh, thank you.” She sat across from Angie, her eyes warm and sad and hopeful. “You helped some?”

“I don’t know, but I answered all her questions.”

“Father Rafe speaks so highly of his family.”

“She was nice. She listened.”

Mrs. Martinez stared over Angie’s shoulder, and for a moment, Angie thought she was going to cry. Then Angie would cry, and she didn’t want to do that.

“He was so tired all the time,” Mrs. Martinez said quietly. “He worked long hours all summer, took a class at the community college, it was too much. I didn’t see him enough. I told him I loved him the night before. He hugged me. Kissed me. I hold on to that.”

Angie hadn’t known that Elijah was taking classes over the summer. They’d talked about doing it together, but when they were going to sign up, he said he didn’t have time because of his job. Had he not wanted to do it with her? Had she made him mad? She couldn’t think of anything she’d done.

She wasn’t going to hold it against him, because she didn’t know what he had been thinking. She tried not to be hurt.

Angie drank her 7UP and listened to Mrs. Martinez talk about Elijah. It was nice to hear happy stories about him.

Then suddenly Mrs. Martinez started to cry. “I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Angie said, got up, and hugged her.

“I need—I need to go lie down.”

“I’ll come by in a few days?”

“Yes. Please, that would be nice.”

Angie let herself out, then finally let herself cry as she slowly walked home.