She Speaks to Angels: YA Angel Thriller (AngelFire Chronicles Bk #1)

by Blackwelder, Ami

  As he put a spoonful of eggs into his large mouth, I answered him. “I was just wondering how things went at my school...you know with Tommy’s accident.” I doubted Tommy had jumped. Pushed by Clark? Slipped from fear? But suicide didn’t make sense.

  “Well, we’ve collected all the evidence we found on the ground and on the roof.”

  Damn, the roof. I forgot how thorough my brother could be. If I had made a stop at the school roof before leaving Wednesday, maybe I could have found something more to tell me what really happened to Tommy. But now the evidence would be locked away in police quarters. Sealed tight.

  “Find anything?” I fished.

  “Not much. A cigarette butt...” He glanced suspiciously at me before he finished, “You know I’m not really supposed to talk to you about this kind of stuff.”

  “I know...” I sat next to him and rubbed my eyes, bringing tears to the surface, hoping for sympathy, “but we are all shocked, and I just need some answers to help me.”

  Samuel put his hand on my shoulder and nodded. “I understand. But there really isn’t much.”

  “Do you think he jumped on purpose?”

  “Why would you think otherwise?” Samuel’s brow arched high.

  “I don’t know...I guess he just didn’t really seem like the type.”

  “Well, we’ve found no evidence of a scuffle, nothing to tell us he struggled with someone, on the roof or on the ground.”

  “But...”

  “But what?”

  “Why would he have done it? He had so much going for him.”

  “We can’t always know why people do things, Ali.” His puppy-dog eyes widened. “Sometimes there just aren’t any clear-cut answers.”

  I stared at his plate of half-eaten eggs and a slice of yolk-moistened toast. Maybe Sam was right about no clear-cut answers, but I couldn’t just give up. Journalism needed me. Jennifer needed me. And Tommy deserved to have the truth about his death known.

  I pushed my chair away from the table; the screech of wood against the floor hurt my ears. “Sorry.” I stood and flipped open my cell.

  As I headed toward Mom, I called Jennifer and then Molly. “Meet me at Cafe Cahlua in ten.”

  “Are you leaving already?” Mom asked from the sofa where she was reading a magazine.

  “Just for a bit. Do you think you could drive me?”

  “Alright, just don’t stay out too late.” Mom warned with concern in her voice.

  “I won’t.”

  As we pulled up to the café, I got out, waved goodbye to Mom and met my friends, bundled with coats and mittens, at the front door. The cafe easily became one of my favorites. A few couples sat at tables outside, wrapped in coats and mittens, and drank coffee, but we headed inside the building. Paintings of Van Gogh’s Starry Night and Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss decorated the walls. Duplicates of course, but refined all the same.

  “Let’s sit at our fav table.” Jennifer pointed to the back, and we noticed three newbies sitting there. Looking at each other we hesitated for a second before Molly marched up to them as brave as a lion. With one hand on her hip she confronted them.

  “OUR spot. You three need to be outtie in like two secs.” Her lowered lids made her stare all the more haunting.

  The first guy I noticed wore a cream-colored turtleneck and raked his fingers through his copper-blond hair. Hazel eyes batted up at Molly, reflecting the half smile on his lips. He looked over at me and then back to his two friends.

  “Looked empty to me.” To his left sat a doting porcelain doll with curly blond locks that fell to her waist and crystal blue eyes. Her legs were crossed, and she sat very straight. She tilted her pointy chin away from the center-guy-of-her-affections to meet dagger eyes with Molly. To the guy’s right, a strawberry blond, blue-eyed boy lounged, his back relaxed against the maroon sofa.

  Their choice of baggy attire made me feel more comfortable. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all, if I didn’t count the girl to the left. But no one took our spot. Not even strangely attractive guys. When Molly gritted her teeth, I knew I had to step in. Planting my heels beside Molly, I put a hand on my hip. It worked for her.

  “We’ve been sitting here since Freshman year. Everyone knows that,” I huffed. Who did he think he was? How come I didn’t recognize him? Did he even go to our school?

  As he stood, I noticed his broad shoulders, tight form, and toned arms. Some kind of athlete? “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to cause trouble. Maybe you three would like to join us?”

  Blondie turned her dagger eyes on him before returning them to Molly. “Together? Maybe we should keep our distance.” She sounded as if she had something against us, against me. But I never met her before today.

  “Maybe we could squeeze over.” The middle man and apparent leader of the pack signaled with his forefinger for the others to move. Molly shrugged and looked back at me with a compromising expression. The guys were cute, in a not quite GQ kind of way.

  Just as Molly was about to slide onto the sofa, Jennifer squirmed behind her whispering to both of us, “I’ve heard they’re stoners. I don’t want to hang with stoners.” Her toes tapped the hardwood floors.

  “Oh, get off your high horse. You hang with me, don’t you?” Molly rolled her eyes. Not quite someone who smoked weed, Molly did have a colorful background. At least more than anyone else we knew. She had seemed like the coolest rebel-without-a-cause when we first met in middle school.

  Huffing, Jennifer slid onto the other side beside Blondie. Pulling up a chair, I sat across from the main attraction. Not as hot as Dameon, but striking in his own way. Defined lines cornered his eyes as if he thought a lot, and naturally pinked lips brought more color to his face than most guys had. He had clear skin, and an edgy haircut whipped around his ears, deeming him at least a close second to the untouchable-insatiable Dameon. Yes, that is how I thought about the mystery man whose locker stood next to mine. Pathetic, I know, but I had to obsess over something other than school if I would ever survive my next two years.

  “Kian.” His spiky copper-blond bangs rolled over his eyes when he said his name and shook my hand. A soft touch for an athlete. “This is Nathaniel and Krysta.”

  “Hi.” Nathaniel raised his brows at the mention of his name and muttered a greeting that sounded more like a grunt. Krysta kept her hands over her coffee mug and her eyes on Kian. People didn’t seem to be her thing.

  “Ali, Molly, and Jennifer,” Jennifer offered.

  “Do you go to Millennium High?” I blurted. Enough with small talk; I needed to know.

  “Transfers,” Kian answered before any of the others could speak. Nathaniel opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly.

  “When did you all transfer?” Molly beat her stare into Kian.

  “Tuesday.” Kian said, his voice as short as Molly’s.

  “All three of you?” Molly’s face began to roll like what happens when two girls get into a fight with one another and the amount of head rolling will determine the winner. At least that is how things had been handled on most of the streets. “Are you guys like a family or something?”

  “Adopted.”

  “Wow!” Jennifer almost busted something. “So do you all, like, smoke weed?” I glared at her when she made the comment, and she gave me the doe eyed innocent what-did-I-say expression.

  “No.” Kian’s answer remained short. At least he spoke. I wasn’t sure Nathaniel could, since every time he opened his mouth

  , nothing came out. I didn’t want to hear Krysta. Something told me the minute we got her started she wouldn’t stop. I was right.

  Molly straightened her shoulders when the waitress dropped three coffees to our table. She knew what we liked; we came here often enough. “Where did you all come from?” Molly asked.

  “Is this twenty questions or something?” Krysta’s lips twisted and her brows furrowed.

  “No, I just...” Molly tried to bite her tongue and stay polite. She had lear
ned that from me. In middle school the word was that she’d beat you up if you looked at her funny. They were all rumors, as far as I knew.

  “Well, don’t.”

  “Excuse me, little miss I-think-I-died-and-came-back-queen.” Molly stood, pushing the table with her. “We’ve been coming here two years, and I’m not sharing OUR spot with some...some hoochie mama.”

  Kian placed his arm over Krysta, whose face fumed red. “Let’s just calm down. There is no reason we can’t all get along.” He looked at Krysta, and her lashes flashed up and down before she took a breath and extended an apology.

  “Sorry I jumped down your throat.” Krysta combed her hair with her fingers, a seemingly soothing task. “I overreacted.”

  Holding in a half grin-half growl, Molly met her halfway and sat back down, avoiding eye contact the entire time. “Apology accepted.”

  “Can we just have a civil conversation?” Kian seemed to be addressing his gang more than mine, and I smiled with my eyes. “So, what do you think of the coffee here?” he asked.

  “Good.” I nodded.

  “Nice. “Jennifer had to prove she could be civil too, but Molly glared. If trust broke with her, trust remained broken. She had already decided she didn’t like that girl Krysta at all, and I had to admit I wasn’t too thrilled with her either.

  “So how do you guys like the new school?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.

  “We’ll see.” Kian answered. “Haven’t gone yet.”

  “That’s right. Tuesday transfers.” I repeated to myself.

  And then everything changed.

  “Did you all hear about the suicide?” Molly blared out at Kian.

  “You mean Tommy.” Kian said. A statement, not a question. Like he knew him, personally. Suddenly, Krysta’s elbow hit him in the side.

  Back Alleys

  “I think we should be going. We have so much more we have to do to get ready for school,” Krysta interrupted and, for the first time, she sounded more sane than irate.

  The tension between her and Kian could be cut with a butter knife.

  “Sure. Let’s get going.” His careful stare pulled away from me, and I felt afraid if I might never see him again. Silly, I know. I mean, I hardly knew him.

  Standing, he shuffled out behind Krysta rather urgently, and Nathaniel smiled and gave us a nod before exiting. Kian turned back before the front door shut. “Later.”

  When they disappeared Jennifer turned to me, “Well, that was interesting.”

  “To say the least,” Molly agreed.

  “You think they’ll try hanging with us? ’Cuz I really don’t want to be seen with stone-heads,” Jennifer declared with a stomp of her right foot.

  “They aren’t smoking anything. Gesh, Jennifer, you can be so judgmental sometimes,” Molly responded, though I knew she couldn’t stand Krysta, but Kian and Nathaniel weren’t too bad on the eyes. “Besides, I’ve smoked a joint or two in my time, and you still hang with me.”

  “One or two does not a stoner make,” Jennifer litigated and turned with a huff toward the bathroom in the back. “I’ve got to freshen up.” She disappeared behind the wall while I sipped my coffee with Molly at OUR spot. Two round white tables near the back wall offered a comfortable sofa for four if needed. I still sat in my chair on the other side of the tables, looking at Molly.

  “What?” She shrugged.

  “Nothing,” I retorted.

  “You’ve got that look.”

  “Well, you’ll be seeing a lot of it in the future, so get used to it.”

  “So, what’s on your mind?” Molly fished for answers again.

  “I was just wondering if any of Tommy’s other friends noticed something, or heard something before his...you know.” Warmth from the smooth mug kept my palms pleasant.

  “They must have. Someone must.” Molly sounded so sure.

  “Then how do we get to them? Talk to them?” I cringed at the notion of coming face to face with the quarterback or linebacker or any one of the football team. We didn’t quite speak the same language. The experience, I’m sure, would feel something like an alien life form trying to communicate with humans. Like something straight out of The Invasion of 2020. I’m not sure I’d recover.

  “You’re such a wimp sometimes!” Molly repositioned herself so that her legs crisscrossed over the sofa.

  “Then you do it,” I announced. “Take the reins. Walk up to the football team, flirt, tease. Whatever it takes to make them pay attention, and then go in for the kill.”

  “And you can’t do this, because....”

  “Because,” my hands were already sweaty, “the idea already gives me anxiety.”

  “Fine. But you should know, you’re sure high-maintenance sometimes.” Molly grinned. “You’ll owe me one.”

  As she finished speaking the door chimed open as Clark walked in with the linebacker and a newbie football player from the team. They waltzed up to the counter and ordered a few coffees and cakes.

  “Couch would kill us, the newbie worried.

  “No matter; he ain’t here.” Clark reassured him. “Now take it.” Clark shoved the chocolate pastry toward the newbie, ill intent obvious on his face. I only noticed because I had seen that look once before in my Sophomore year when I stepped toward the lady’s bathroom. Then, Clark had leaned against the wall near the exit showing that same intensity. Seconds later Noe had walked out of the stall, and he yanked her by the collar of her shirt.After he placed the cakes and coffees on a table near the window, Clark tugged a packet of something out of his back pocket. Then he yanked the newbie up by one arm and headed toward the back door, dragging the panic-faced newbie along with him. I felt sorry for the newbie. Who knew what antics Clark was up to now. But I felt more than sympathy; I felt curiosity. I needed to know what business Clark had with this unrecognizable face in the back alley.

  Within seconds Clark swung open the back door and the two vanished down the hall leading to the bathrooms. As I jumped to my feet, Molly needed no explanation.

  “No!” She shook her head.

  “Yes.” I skidded across the corridor floor to get to the back door in time. Molly couldn’t resist, and she hovered over my left shoulder as we stared at the boys through the crack of the door. Clark towered over the newbie with his right hand clenched around the boy’s shoulder so tightly that I knew the shoulder would be bruised by morning. But more than what I saw, what I heard startled me more than anything else.

  “I saw you with her.” Clark’s brows arched like swords.

  “It...it was nothing. She just needed help carrying her bags,” the newbie defended himself.

  “I’m not stupid.” Clark slapped him across the shoulder bone. “Do I look stupid to you?”

  “No, no...”

  “Then just tell me what really happened, because the only thing I can’t stand more than disloyalty is a lie.” Grooves burrowed deep into Clark’s forehead and around his eyes. A tight mouth and tense posture scared even me, and he was several feet away from me.

  “I just helped her with her books. That’s all.” The boy’s pleading bordered on pathetic.

  A jolt to my back jerked my head around for a second. “What are you two doin’?” Jennifer asked, peering around us.

  “SHH!” we said in unison, and immediately Jennifer caught wind of the soap opera unraveling before our eyes.

  With my eyes focused on Clark and the newbie, I listened intently as chilly breezes brushed past the door. Clark stood in his blue jacket, and the shorter boy looked so frail in only a shirt and vest. His jacket remained on his chair inside next to the linebacker.

  Clark responded by jabbing his fist into the boy’s ribs. “My girl doesn’t need any help from you. I advise you to stay as far away from her as possible or...or I don’t know what I’d do.” Clark’s hot face flushed redder than tomatoes.

  “OK, I got it.” The maimed boy stumbled backward for space. “I’ll stay away from her.”

  The bac
k alley grew silent. Fear surged from the newbie, a presence real enough to feel. A chill crawled down my spine and into my legs, feeling like tiny spiders taking a million tiny steps. Before Clark turned toward the back door, I spun away and pushed Molly and Jennifer down the corridor. As we fumbled back onto our sofa seconds later, Clark marched past us and grunted as he plopped next to the linebacker, helping himself to the newbie’s chocolate cake. I couldn’t hear what he said afterward, but I didn’t see that newbie return.

  “We should get going,” Jennifer urged. She hated to find herself in the middle of something like this. “What if Clark saw us?” Her nerves only intensified when Clark glanced in our direction.

  “Don’t look at them.” I kicked Jennifer under the table and she dropped her gaze to the table.

  “Damn. You think he saw me watching?” Jennifer twisted her lips.

  “Don’t worry about it; you think he’s going to throw you off a building or something?” Molly chided, making Jennifer and me wince. “OK, maybe a wrong choice of words.” She shrugged.

  At the sound of two chairs screeching over the floor, we turned our heads and saw Clark and his friend dart out of the cafe.

  “And you were saying I was a wimp because...” I pointed out the likely dangers Molly would endure facing the football team. Everyone knew Clark was the team. If he said the sun shone blue, the sun shone blue...at least to his team.

  “I’ll make it work.” Molly crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Clark through the glass as he walked away down the sidewalk.

  “Just be careful whatever you do.”

  “What is she going to do?” Jennifer butted her face in between us, pulling up the hoodie on her jacket.

  “Get info from the football team about Tommy,” I answered.

  “Well, why don’t we show up for the memorial service? They are sure to be there, emotional. Might be the perfect opportunity to pull some information out of his friends.” Jennifer had her moments of street-genius, usually book-genius, but today I could have promised to do all her homework for the year.