Free Angel Among Us by Katy Munger Page A

freedom in the North during the Civil War?’ Calvano looked at her impatiently. ‘Our town used to be a stop on it. Slaves hid here until they could make the final dash to Philadelphia. It’s all we learned about in school.’
    Maggie was barely listening. Her mind was still on the conversation she had just had. ‘Of course I know about it,’ she said. ‘But you aren’t being serious, right?’
    â€˜I’m being completely serious. Father Sojak says Arcelia Gallagher counsels illegal immigrants who come through St Raphael’s for help starting new lives here in America. He made it sound like it was just a couple of them, but when’s the last time you only saw a few illegal immigrants together?’
    â€˜We need to talk to them,’ Maggie said.
    â€˜I know. I’m on it. He’s going to get back to me.’
    Maggie looked at him skeptically.
    â€˜I said I was on it. What’s next?’
    â€˜Gonzales called us back to the office.’ Her tone made it clear that this was the last thing she wanted to do. ‘We are under orders to come in the front door.’
    â€˜Seriously?’ Calvano sounded pissed, but he was still Calvano: he looked in the car mirror and started arranging his hair. He knew he’d be on every major network by nightfall tomorrow.
    â€˜Yes, seriously. He wants the whole world to know that the best detectives in town are on the case,’ Maggie said sourly.
    â€˜Hey, it’s kind of a compliment, right?’ Calvano asked.
    â€˜It’s kind of a pain in the ass,’ she answered.
    It may have been a pain in the ass for them to push through the cluster of reporters and cameramen waiting to ambush them when they reached the station house, but for me it was kind of a hoot. I kept walking in front of the cameras, blocking their view, hoping that I might at least create some static and ruin a shot or two. A ghostly figure would have been way more dramatic and, for a brief shining moment, I had a vision of becoming a legend around the station house after all. But I knew it was just a fantasy. I was pretty sure I was destined to remain as unknown as I had been while alive.
    As always, the leader of the media pack seemed to be Lindsey Stanford, the stocky woman in a crap-colored pantsuit and a bad haircut who had a bigger entourage than most of the other reporters competing with her. Two cameramen, a sound man, some Type-A skinny blond producer and a terrified-looking intern followed her as she barreled through the crowd, making a beeline for Maggie and Calvano. Maggie must have been under orders from Gonzales to talk to her, because she slowed reluctantly and waited until the reporter reached her. Lindsey Stanford was a legend to some, but she was one of those popular culture figures whose rise to fame I had missed, due to being in an alcoholic haze for the past ten years.
    Lindsey Stanford had nerve, I had to give her that. She sent a tiny blond reporter careening off another competitor with one bump from her hip and then planted herself firmly in front of Maggie. Instead of sticking her microphone in Maggie’s face, she held it up to her own and launched into a long and well-written introduction about Arcelia Gallagher, the beloved mother-to-be and kindergarten teacher who had surely met with foul play. She fully expected Maggie and Calvano to stand there while she hogged the camera time, and stand there they did. As she was talking, somehow making the disappearance of Arcelia all about her, I saw Maggie’s ex-husband inching his way through the crowd, trying to catch Stanford’s eye. I wondered what Maggie would do when she realized that her ex-husband was working with the most obnoxious reporter in a field of highly obnoxious candidates.
    Stanford was wrapping up her endless intro with a sensationalized account of Maggie’s career to date, no doubt fed to her by some public relations flack Gonzales had