Angel's Tip Read Online Free PDF Page A

sweatsuit and Puma tennis shoes.
    The girl’s friend was rubbing her shoulder soothingly. “I didn’t say we should leave without her. I just said we should go to the airport. Chelsea’s probably there.”
    The comforting girl was petite with a black pixie haircut. Ellie spotted the top of some kind of tattoo peeking out from the back of the waistband of her jeans. The girl looked at her watch with a furrowed brow. “We’re missing our flight anyway. It’s almost seven o’clock.”
    “They said it was delayed,” the girl in the ponytail reminded her. She was starting to get control over her tears. “Chelsea would never leave us hanging like this.”
    Another bellhop hurried past the duo and grabbed a set of car keys from the counter beside them. “Andale,” he shouted, hurrying along the perplexed bellhop who was trapped with the girls.
    “Chewanna cab or not?”
    The question sent the crying girl into sobs again, and the bellhop finally gave up, grabbed a set of keys from the counter, and fled to the hotel entrance.
    “Do you two need some help with anything?” Ellie asked.
    The pixie threw her an impatient look, as if the attention of strangers was yet another piece of unwarranted drama.
    “We’re fine, ma’am. We didn’t mean to make a scene.”
    “No need to apologize.” Ellie flipped up the badge that was clipped to the waistband of her pants. “You’re looking for one of your friends?”
    “She’s just running late. It’s fine—”
    “Stop saying it’s going to be fine, Jordan.” The crying girl pushed her friend’s hand off her shoulder. “She’s missing. She should be here, and she’s not here. She knew what time we were leaving, and she’s not here. She’s…she’s missing. ”
    Ellie heard the girl’s pain in the way she spoke that single word. She said it with the knowledge that to be missing meant so much more than to be in an unknown location.
    The petite girl with the pixie haircut and tattoo, the one whose name was apparently Jordan, said they just needed to get to the airport. If they could get to the airport, they could make it onto a later flight and wait for Chelsea.
    “I told you, I’m not leaving.”
    Jordan muttered something under her breath. Ellie heard it but hoped the crying girl hadn’t.
    But she had, and she responded as predicted. “Seriously? Chelsea’s missing, and you decide to say you’re going to kill her? Do you have any idea how disgusting that is?”
    “All right. Just try to calm down, both of you. Your name’s Jordan?” She spoke directly to the tattoo girl, who nodded in response. “No one’s killing anyone, Jordan.”
    “Yeah, I’m sorry. Sorry, Stef.”
    “And you’re Stef?” Ellie asked the crying girl.
    “Yeah, Stefanie. Stefanie Hyder.”
    “Okay. So you’re obviously upset, but I need one of you—only one,” she said, holding up a finger, “to tell me what’s going on. Can you do that, Stefanie?”
    The girl sniffed a couple of times and tugged on her ponytail nervously. “We’re on spring break. Our flight leaves this morning—like, basically now. And our friend Chelsea isn’t here.”
    “But—”
    Ellie held up her hand. “You’ll get your turn.”
    Stefanie continued without prodding. “We went out last night. It was time to come home, and she wouldn’t leave. Chelsea wouldn’t leave. I should have stayed, but it was time to go home. And she promised.”
    Jordan placed her arm around Stefanie’s shoulder once more, and this time Stefanie didn’t push away. Her tears brought on sobs as she spoke.
    “She looked me in the eye, and she promised she’d be back by now. She promised she’d be here. She promised. And she’s not. Something happened to her. Something’s wrong.”
    Rogan had snapped a digital photograph of the girl from East River Park, but she didn’t want to do the ID that way. Not in a crowded Midtown hotel lobby. Not now.
    “Do you have a picture of your friend?”
    The girls both shook