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.”

“I was scared when they went after me.” I grip my hand on the edge of the car window. “Then when I read in the paper her phone was found, I didn’t know who to trust. Not when Chris is referenced so many times in texts between Angela and Jamal. Sheriff Brighton was the one knocking on our door looking for Jamal.”

I look up at Beverly with hopeful eyes.

She takes her time, then speaks. “Don’t bring this phone up to anyone else. Don’t mean I’m not going to turn it in. I need to think about how not to get you in trouble over this.”

“They lied about having her phone.”

“Exactly. Thank you for bringing this to me. Tracy, don’t ever do anything like this again.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise me.”

I touch Beverly’s hand. “I won’t.” I pause, debating about sharing that I also confronted Chris. Then I look at the station; he’s already made a statement on record. My information could conflict.