The Angel of Death by Alane Ferguson Read Free Book Online Page A

answer since it could be Mammaw, and if it was to tell her that they’d be a while, especially since he was going to take the body straight to Durango. Retrieving the phone from her back pocket, Cameryn flipped it open as she twisted away from Jacobs’s prying eyes. Near her were the withered flowers, petals dry as butterflies’ wings. There was a smell here, too. Indescribable, like burnt grass or popcorn that hadn’t popped. And another odor beneath that, but it was a smell she couldn’t place.

    “Hello?” she half-whispered.

    “Cammie? It’s me, Lyric.”

    “Lyric, this isn’t a good time—”

    “Are you sitting down? If you’re not you should, because wait until you hear this! There’s a rumor going around that Mr. Oakes is dead! Dead! It can’t be true, but if it is, I’m going to lie down and die myself. You know he’s my favorite teacher of all time—he’s the whole reason I love to write poetry and my journal a nd . . . Where are you, anyway?”

    “How did you hear about Mr. Oakes?” Cameryn whispered fiercely, stepping to the corner of the room while plugging her ear with a latexed finger. “We just got here—I’m processing the scene right now!”

    “Then it’s true?” Lyric wailed. “Oh my God, I don’t believe it. What happened? I heard his eyes were blown right out of his face!”

    Cameryn felt a sudden pressure on her shoulder. “Is that Lyric?” She whirled around, her nerves jangling, to stare straight into the sheriff’s thin face.

    “What I want to know is how in the Sam Hill did this get out to the teenage population? Deputy!” He marched over to the door and yelled again, louder than before, “Deputy Crowley, I’d like you to get in here. Tell Kyle to wait in the kitchen.” Then, to Cameryn, he barked, “Hand me that phone.”

    Cameryn had barely placed it into the sheriff’s hand before he whipped it to his ear. “Lyric! Sheriff Jacobs here. I’d like to know how you’re already aware of Mr. Oakes’s death. . . . Adam? How did he find out? . . . You call him and ask who . . . Yes, and then call me back at . . . No, on second thought, changed my mind. I’d like you both to come down to the house. It’s the blue one, 1195 River Street. . . . Good . . . Yeah, bring him with you. . . . Uh-huh, just a few questions and then you’re gone. Hurry now.”

    He snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Cameryn, his eyes glittering. “There’s nothing so aggravating as living in a small town. I swear to the Lord Almighty that Silverton’s got more leaks than a colander.”

    “I don’t know what the big deal is,” Cameryn protested.

    “That’s because you might know bodies but you don’t know law. Leaks can compromise a case, and I want to know where they came from.”

    “You wanted to see me, Sheriff?” Justin asked. He appeared at the doorway wearing the same outfit he had worn earlier, with the exception of his badge, which hung from a cord around his neck instead of pinned to his shirt like Jacobs’s. “I was just about to let Kyle go home—”

    “Keep him!” The sheriff’s reply was brisk. “Take Cameryn to the kitchen and wait there for Lyric and Adam. They’re on their way, and they might open up more if Cameryn’s there. Find out who knew what when. Maybe I can work that thread backwards and get some answers.”

    “No problem. Come on, Cammie,” Justin said. He gave a slight bow and waved his hand, palm-up, toward the hallway. Her father was already busy placing paper bags over her teacher’s hands, so she knew she had no choice but to leave. Grudgingly, she stepped into the hallway, following Justin, her feet slipping as she skated along the floor in her booties.

    “Do you know Kyle?” he asked her, his voice low.

    “This is Silverton, Justin,” she whispered. “Everyone pretty much knows everyone, especially if they go to school together.”

    “So I’ll take that as a yes.”

    “That would be a good