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

by Blackwelder, Ami

  “Excellent idea.” I scratched the itch on my right arm. “Do you know where it will be held?”

  “Got a notice in the mail. You should check yours sometime.” Jennifer flung the card with the details over the table.

  A Memorial Service will be held for Tommy Bachelor

  Millennium Mall Parking Lot at 6PM-9PM this Friday.

  Bring candles, flowers and photos.

  “Who put this together?” I asked.

  “Some good friends of his parents,” Jennifer answered.

  “How do you know all this?” Molly looked impressed, her lips pursing together in slight jealousy.

  “My father’s a lawyer. Tommy’s parents talked with him about suing the school, and I passed by the door when they were talking about the memorial service.”

  “Right.” Molly sipped her coffee, the sharpest edge of her tone washing away with the drink. Molly wasn’t used to Jennifer knowing something she didn’t. She didn’t take being out of any loop very well. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The door chimed shut behind us, and I felt wisps of fog ravel around my ankles as we walked toward the car. Jennifer plodded beside me, and Molly kicked the fabric-esque mist as if she fought with something moveable, tangible.

  “What’s up with this fog already?”

  “I know, it seems to be everywhere we go nowadays,” I agreed, and Jennifer hopped off the sidewalk to her sedan.

  “So are we getting out of here or what?” Jennifer held the door handle.

  Molly revved the engine, and we took off toward my house. As I stepped to the front door I noticed the mist hanging over the driveway as if it had followed us from the cafe home. Quickly, I pushed my key into the lock and turned it. The three of us piled inside the house, which smelled of grilled basil chicken. As the front door closed with a click, the fog dissipated.

  “Where have you girls been? I thought you’d be home earlier,” Mom called from the kitchen. The clanking noises from that direction told us that she was putting the finishing touches on lunch.

  “We ran into some friends.” I shrugged with the words as Molly and Jennifer glared at me. Could Kian really be considered a friend after only one meeting?

  “Good; I’m glad to hear you girls had a nice time. The town needs more good times after what happened.” Mom pranced out of the kitchen like a proud chief with a platter of grilled chicken in one hand and a plate of toasted buns in the other. Spreading the lunch out on the dining table, she waved us into the room.

  “I’m so hungry! Thanks, Mrs. Maney.” Molly rubbed her belly and sat down first. For some reason, Molly always had a large appetite when she stopped at my house. I questioned how much her own mother cooked.

  Sitting next to Molly, Jennifer grabbed a plate of her own as Mom placed the smaller plate of lettuce and tomatoes at the center. I stood as I arranged my chicken sandwich until I had my meat precisely in the middle of the bun and then sat next to Mom.

  “So, tell me all about your day. What did you do?” Mom questioned, studying us closely.

  “Not much, Mrs. Maney.” Jennifer enjoyed talking with parents. One could say it was her forte’. “We had some coffee and listened to music at the cafe. Ran into some...friends. And then headed home.”

  “Coffee. My goodness, at your young age!” Mom shook her head. “Kids nowadays.”

  “Everyone drinks it, Mom.” I rationalized.

  “Well, it can’t be good for your young bodies.” She stood and poured us each a glass of orange juice. “Here. This is better for you.”

  “Thanks.” Molly smiled. Her own mom never gave too much attention to details like healthy food. On the few occasions I ate at her house, the fridge always appeared full of junk food. Not that I complained, but my mom would have a cow.

  “Best chicken ever,” Jennifer added, and Molly’s insatiable appetite seemed to agree.

  “How late is Samuel working?” I wondered.

  “Not too late today,’ Mom assured me. “He is getting home early, because he will be expected at the memorial service. He has to leave in the morning to help keep crowd and traffic control during service preparations.”

  I desperately wanted to talk with my brother more, but more than that I wanted to weed through his things. I was sure he knew more than he told me. He always did. But I had to get into his stuff before he got home. I gave the scram-eye to my friends, and they got the point.

  “Well, I’d better be getting home.” Molly put her empty plate into the sink.

  “Me, too,” Jennifer followed.

  “Drive carefully, you two.” Mom said before they headed to the parked sedan.

  I raced upstairs, listening to Mom whistling in the kitchen as she washed the plates. Plenty of time to rummage. I tiptoed to Samuel’s door on the other side of the upstairs hallway, not wanting to alert Mom to my direction of travel. I opened the door carefully, hoping it wouldn’t creak, and rushed to the desk.

  I pulled the top drawer open. It was full of blank papers and pencils. The second drawer held nothing more interesting than a few family photos and envelopes. I did pause at the picture of me, Samuel and Dad on a fishing trip. With a sigh I shut the oak drawer and eyed the police duffle bag in the corner.

  With one zip, I dug my hands into the deep spaces and felt around for anything. Finding Samuels binder, I flipped open to the first page and found his notes tucked behind the plastic groove. Sketchy handwriting. I had to decode every word, but managed to spell out in my mind something to the effect of...In Tommy’s back pocket...a crumpled paper with message FRANCIS: 2G???, followed by a series of question marks. I guessed Samuel wasn’t close to figuring out what Tommy meant. Heck, I’d have to think hard about that one too.

  It felt like I had only spent minutes inside my brother's room, but I must have been there at last an hour when I heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. I heard Mom shout, “Sammy!” and heard his footsteps skip up the stairs. Damn! I had to get out of there before he spotted me.

  I dashed down the hallway and had just about made it to my room before I saw Samuel’s foot hit the top stair. I thrust myself into the open bathroom and pretended to have just existed as I saw Samuel turn the corner.

  “How you doing, sis?”

  I swallowed. “Fine.”

  “Gonna catch some early zzzs. Don’t bug me.” Samuel disappeared behind his bedroom door and I vanished behind mine.

  Memorial

  I slept in unwillingly. I guess the excitement of the past few days finally caught up to me. But when I opened my eyes my body sprang up and Tommy’s message hit me like a truck without brakes. FRANCIS: 2G. Swinging out of bed I quickly took a shower and threw on a maroon sweater, a pair of jeans and a handmade knit hat Mom gave me last Christmas. Galoshes and coat waited at the front door. Grabbing a granola bar and chugging a glass of orange juice, I raced out the door, barely giving Mom time to say hi.

  It was ten minutes before the bus at the end of the street got there, and I waited impatiently, pacing like a madman let out of an asylum. When the bus door opened, I slid a handful of quarters into the machine, and a ticker punched out for me. Ripping the edge from the machine I slid the ticket into my pocket and slid into a seat somewhere in the middle.

  Gazing out the window, I thought I’d never get there in time, before someone else got there. But ten minutes later the bus pulled up at its next stop, and I flew out the splitting doors. With my coat only buttoned up halfway I dashed into the cafe and walked quickly toward the corridor. A series of metal lockers decorated the left wall. Employee lockers. I spotted the name Francis just as I remembered. I had never searched consciously for the name before, so the name Francis had to churn around in my brain for some time before I realized where I’d seen it.

  With fingers to the locker handle, I pulled. Locked. Of course. Trudging up to the counter I waited for the attendee, name tag reading Ralph. I tried the puppy dog look I so often watched on my brother’s face. It seemed to have worked
for him well enough.

  “What do you need, Ali?”

  “I...I just needed something Francis has.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A friend of mine gave her something and I need it.”

  “OK, well Francis is in the employee room. You’ll have to wait till she changes into her uniform and comes out to talk to her.”

  My cheeks puffed as I gazed at the counter.

  Minutes later Francis stumbled out of the employee room tightening the apron around her checkered waist and tossing a cigarette butt into the trash bin. After she hid her loose brunette hair into a ponytail her head flipped up and caught my haunting gaze.

  “What do you need, Ali?”

  “Tommy...Tommy gave you something?” I said it like a question and statement at the same time.

  “Yeah...a few days ago.”

  “Could I see it? He wanted me to have it before he...”

  “Sure, Ali. Follow me.” She bounced up to her locker marked 2G and spun the combination. “He told me to hold on to it and he’d be back for it soon. But he never came back.” She wiped a single tear from her almond eyes and popped the locker open.

  Pulling out a thick vanilla envelope, she laid the package into my trembling hands. Trembling because this could be illegal. Trembling because of what hid inside the package.

  “Here you go, Ali. Take care of it, whatever it is. Seemed important to him.”

  “Of course. Thanks, Francis.”

  As I turned from her, my fingers squeezed the envelope. Something square rested inside for sure. Curiosity drove me mad. I had to open this package and soon! As I hopped onto the sidewalk the chimes of the door sounded a close, and I headed toward the shop on the corner. The shop had many knick-knacks, and I needed candles for tonight. As I strolled, my hands swung back and forth and I squeezed the package again; but as I lifted the envelope to open it, I heard a distinct set of footsteps behind me. Pad-pad, pad-pad.

  Jerking around, I saw no one. The street was empty, except for a few cars and a couple on the other side. Turning back around, I continued to the shop and lifted the package again. Pad-pad, pad-pad. I stopped. The padding ended. I stepped forward until I reached the point where the street hugged a curb. Pad-pad, pad-pad. Now my nerves were on end and I was beginning to panic, but when I turned around again, I saw no one. A car whizzed around the curb. I maintained my course with a careful ear to the sidewalk all the way to the shop. Who followed me? How come I didn’t see anyone? I began to doubt my own ears.

  Inside the shop felt safe, warm. I didn’t usually feel cold in New York, having grown up there. But for some reason I felt cold walking to the shop, stinking more of fear really. But still, I’d never experienced something like that before.

  “Welcome to Sara’s Boutique. Could I help you find anything?” A short Asian lady asked and I nodded.

  “Yes, candles.”

  “For anything special?” Her raising brows expected a romantic evening.

  “For the memorial,” I said plainly as I walked behind her up to the candle section, a revolving mechanism in the corner of the shop.

  “I heard about that. Real sad. Did you know him well?”

  I shrugged. “A bit.”

  “Let me know when you decide. I’ll give you a twenty percent discount.”

  “Thanks.” I tilted my head at the gold-yellow candle. Smelled like cookies.

  As she wrapped my candle in the bag, Sara looked only a few years older than me. “Here you go. My prayers are with him.”

  I half-smiled, as if that meant something to me. I’m not sure if it did or not. I mean, I didn’t really know him, but he was my age and went to my school. I didn’t exactly see him fall, but I’d never get over that image of his body like a lump on the ground. And all this investigating, this package in my hands...I squeezed again...had to do with him. I was connected to him whether I wanted to be or not.

  As I raced down the sidewalk, the air felt tighter as the afternoon slipped into evening. I just wanted to make it to the park across the street. When traffic eased, I made my move, and my coat brushed back and forth across my body. An empty park bench looked perfect. I wiggled in my coat until I got comfortable, curled my right leg under the other, and placed the candle bag to my left before I lifted the package.

  As I ripped the envelope open, an iPhone slid into my hands. I furrowed my brows and studied the screen, surfing the messages. Mom. Dad. (God, his parents must have dreaded that news the day he died!). Clark. Mom. There wasn’t really much. I listened to the messages one by one carefully.

  “Beep...Tommy, please don’t be late today. We have to talk. We’re worried about you.”

  “Beep...This is Dad. Looking forward to seeing you, son.”

  “Beep...Hey man, sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to hit you. You know my temper. Anyway, see you tomorrow.”

  “Beep...Love you. Have a good day.”

  So his mom knew something was wrong, enough so that she wanted to sit him down for a talk. And Clark, God...how many did he bully around here anyway?

  When I scrolled the apps, a flash flickered on the recorder button and I swiped it. Suddenly, a scene from an alleyway somewhere opened and I watched, my face pressing closer and closer. An unknown man scrambled down the alley, turning the corner. The look on his face was one of terror. This was followed by a flash of light so bright it could have blinded anyone there in person, and then a set of magnificently carved wings appeared. Feathered black wings swooshing up and down like heaven itself. They swirled toward the corner and vanished around the bend. I blinked, keeping my eyes shut for seconds before opening them again. Replaying the recorded scene, I watched again and again until I lost myself in it.

  When I pulled away from the iPhone’s recording, I noticed mist bending in and out of my leg and the bench. Chills rushed down my spine, and I felt as if someone stood behind me, watching. It was hard to describe what I felt exactly. Almost like something warm, something large, something encompassing... all around me. I jerked around. Goose bumps ran up and down my arms, but the fog dissipated and I saw no one.

  I didn’t have time to think about a stalker. I had to get to the memorial. Molly and Jennifer would be there, and I had so many more questions that needed answers. Questions that maybe Tommy’s friends or family could answer.

  Texting Molly, I demanded she get to the park pronto. She showed up in twenty minutes. I didn’t like standing in the park alone, waiting. And the image of those wings circled my mind. The wings in the reflection of the Kindle on the bed in my room. The wings in the alleyway that I had seen on the recorder. Then the wings in the book Tommy used.

  Something strange was going on in New York City, and I might just be the only one aware of it.

  Strutting up to the sedan that was pulling up along the park curb, I hopped in the back seat. I didn’t want to tell them what I found. After all, Molly just about laughed at me when I told her what I saw in the reflection of the Kindle. And this recording probably had nothing to do with Tommy’s fall. We saw what Clark did to the newbie. He was hot on our investigative radar. This angel thing needed to be kept secret. If this recording got out, the city would flip. And Jennifer had a big mouth; after all, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. God, I could only imagine this recorder in the hands of her father, the lawyer! Police would be all over it. And my brother! I had to keep this buried.

  “So what did you do all day?” Molly craned her neck from the passenger seat to eyeball me. “Didn’t hear from you all day.”

  “I...”

  Jennifer looked up at me through the rearview mirror, searching my facial gestures for honesty. Came with the territory, out of habit I guess.

  “I just had a few errands to run. What did you all do?”

  “Candle shopping, looking up Clark in last year’s Yearbook. We thought maybe we’d find something.” Jennifer tucked red hair under her knit hat.

  “Didn’t you find anything in yo
ur brother’s stash?” Molly caught my gaze in the rearview mirror as Jen focused on the road “Isn’t that why you wanted us to leave?”

  “Yeah, but I looked and found nothing.” I swallowed hard and hoped Jennifer didn’t notice. It was best if they didn’t know. It didn’t have to do with Clark anyway, but I hated lying to them. Couldn’t remember the last time I had.

  When the memorial service started, the sky covered us like a blanket. A sea of people stood in the mall parking lot. I’d never seen so many people in one spot. Then the sky crackled. Of all days, the sky wanted to rain today. But no one left. Thank God, no one left. We would stay and show our respects. Tommy’s mom and dad spoke into a microphone thanking everyone. His mom read a poem and his dad said a few words about how we’d all miss him and how he had gone too soon. Tears streamed down faces around me and I found that even I began to cry, and then we lit the candles and waved them in the air. Photos were held up to remind us all of the good times, good times some of us did not even have.

  With my arms slung around Molly and Jennifer on either side I saw Dameon weave through the crowd in the distance. His expression was unreadable. As he heading in my direction, I would have recognized those liquid black eyes and that black leather jacket anywhere. Our eyes locked, and I felt like the world around me disappeared in a spout of tunnel vision. God, was he really coming to me? When he was only a few feet away, he raked his fingers through his raven hair and I could have crooned. I’d seen wings like heaven on Tommy’s iPhone, but Dameon always took my breath away.

  Then Kian, Krysta, and Nathaniel bounced up behind me. Kian’s hand touched my shoulder and broke our connection.

  “You came, too. Good to see you.” Kian licked his lips. I tilted my head toward him, and then flipped back around, only to realize that Dameon had vanished. Damn.

  “Yeah, we came. He went to our school.” I answered, a tinged aggravated. I’m sure he heard it in my tone.

  “So, you going to stay for the whole thing?” Kian asked. Krysta shuffled her feet over the gravel like she suffered from prolonged boredom.