This Is My America(51)

“How dare you come here and…harass me while I’m grieving.” He spits his words at me, face flushed.

I study his reaction. He’s so jittery, it’s possible he killed Angela. I swipe the air toward Dean to show I’m okay, but he ignores me. He waits by the tree near us, arms crossed over his chest.

“You think you’re gonna scare me with Dean being here? You can get the whole track team out here, with Jamal. I’m not going to hide what I saw. You know who my father is, right? You don’t think I told him everything? If something happened to me, he’d be out here looking for who did it. Looking at your family.”

Inside the back of my neck is tingling; what’s he talking about?

“What happened to Angela?”

“What happened?” His voice rises, angry. “Your fucking brother couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Thought he could get everything he wanted, even if it meant her life.”

“You’re out of your mind.”



“She loved me. Jamal wasn’t shit to her. He confused her, made her think she could get out of Galveston Bay. But he wasn’t meant for her, and he couldn’t handle it.”

“Jamal wasn’t ruining her life, and it’s not his fault you two didn’t work out. It’s high school. Sounds like you’re the one who was angry enough to get revenge.” I know it’s a risk, but I poke at him to get a response.

Chris shakes his head. “I was ready to forgive her for getting caught up with Jamal, take her back by convincing her what the whole town already knows: Jamal is just like his dad.”

“Jamal didn’t kill Angela.” I’m trembling. “She was out by the Pike because of you and your friends.” I know I’m reaching, but I need to see his response.

“What do you know about the Pike?” Chris’s eyes widen, and his voice is shaky. Something about the Pike has him scared.

“You tell me about the Pike. I know all about what happens there,” I lie. The memory card had a lot of photos that I’m still sorting out, so I put the only pieces I know together. Angela went to the Pike and was continuing to date Chris because he could help with whatever she was researching.

“Angela is dead because of Jamal.” Chris is crying, choking on tears while he’s talking.

I can’t get over his face exploding in pain, but is it pain from losing her or guilt because it’s his fault?

Dean closes the distance between us, grips my shoulder, and holds me close to him.



“Jamal is the reason she’s dead,” Chris says. “If he would’ve stayed away from her, none of this would’ve ever happened.”

Chris is hazy talking. Like he’s reliving the horror of seeing her body. But he said Jamal was the reason she’s dead, not that Jamal actually killed her. There’s a difference.

“Did you find Angela alive or dead?” I ask.

“What does it matter?” Chris cries out, shaking his head. “It’s his fault.”

“Did Jamal get there before or after you?”

Chris grabs his things and walks away, mumbling to himself, “He killed her. He killed her.”

“Chris is getting away,” I say to Dean. He wraps his arms around me, holding me back, shushing me to keep my cool. “He’s getting away.”

“Let him go,” Dean says.

“Chris!” I shout.

He turns to me and cocks his head like he’s remembering we’re still talking.

“Did you see Jamal with Angela before or after you found her body?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He keeps walking.

I calm my voice, so he knows I’m not attacking him. “Before or after?” I just want the truth.

“After,” he whispers, then jogs to his truck.

A sudden lightness washes over my body. Jamal was with Angela after she was killed. Chris just admitted it.





RECEIPTS


Jamal’s been silent on text. Steve, Quincy, and Dean all think I should turn in Angela’s cell to Beverly. They’re right, I should. At least I conveniently uploaded the images from the SD card to the cloud, so I won’t have to admit I’ve conducted two break-ins.

I pull up outside the police station.

Beverly comes over and leans on the side of my car. “What’s with the cryptic call?”

My ears get hot and I take a long breath out before speaking.

“I found Angela’s cell inside the South Seafood Packing building…before I was caught.”

“You’re mistaken.” Beverly snaps her head up, studies me. “We have Angela’s cell phone.”

I squint hard, confused. “No, this is her phone. She used it at school. I can tell it’s hers because of the hearts on the cover.” I flash Angela’s phone and turn it on. “All her calls, texts, and photos are on here. I wasn’t sure who to trust, but I can’t hold on to it any longer if it has something that can help find Angela’s murderer.”



I hold out the phone. I expect her to ask questions, but she’s got a tight grimace on her face.

“What are you going to do with it?” I ask.

“I stuck my neck out for you.” Beverly sweeps her hands out, then puts them on her head. “You took this from a crime scene where two officers were ready to arrest you. You could’ve been killed out there. Then they would’ve grabbed this phone and found cause, say you were helping Jamal hide evidence.”