Eyes Wide Open

Eyes Wide Open by Andrew Gross Page A

Book: Eyes Wide Open by Andrew Gross Read Free Book Online
Authors: Andrew Gross
Tags: Fiction, thriller
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    “Two people end up dead, who just days before are seen talking. One of them clearly was murdered. The other, Evan, at the very least, there are some open questions . . .”
    “The kid jumped off a cliff, doc! Who are you now, the Amazing Kreskin?” He put his palm on the top of the tall stack of files. “ See these? I’ve got four gang killings, a hit-and-run, and two likely drug ODs to process.” He pulled out a red one from on top. “See this one? The son of a prominent builder in town. Tight end on the high school football team. OxyContin OD. Everyone’s all over me . . . And these . . .” He wheeled around to the other stack of files sitting on the credenza. “These are all disposed of, awaiting my final sign-off. If I can get to them.” He picked one from near the top. “ Your nephew .”
    “I know there’s some kind of connection between the two cases.”
    “I’m sorry, doc, but I don’t work for you.”
    It was clear that the comments on the news had cost me what little equity I had with him. It was also clear the hospital wasn’t exactly going to be an ally now, not that they ever were.
    “Look,” I said, “I’m sorry about that interview. We were all a little frustrated the other day. My nephew died. No one was returning our calls. I was leaving town. I was just trying to do whatever I could to get them some attention.”
    “Attention? What the hell have I been devoting to it, doc— spare time ?” He drilled a look of displeasure at me. Finally he let out a breath. “ Gimme a name. ”
    “A name?”
    “The name of your nephew’s friend,” he answered impatiently. “The one who conveniently spotted the two of them together.”
    “Miguel,” I said. “Miguel Estrada. Apparently, he and Evan were basketball buddies. According to him, Zorn was asking around for Evan at the courts.”
    “Asking around . . .” He twisted in his chair and punched Miguel’s name into his computer. He waited a few seconds, putting on thick black reading glasses, then sort of smiled cynically as he shifted the screen around to me. “You talking this Miguel Estrada?”
    There was a photo of Miguel, shaved head, tattoos and all. A mug shot. Along with a police record that stretched down the entire page. I’ve had some setbacks . . .
    My heart sank.
    Sherwood ticked them off: “Sale of banned substances, sale of prescription drugs, failure to show up for court hearings. Falsifying doctor’s prescriptions. Shall I go on? We’re not kids here, doc. Before we jump to any conclusions, you think perhaps we ought to consider the source?”
    “He told me this early last night,” I said. “Before the Zorn story even broke.”
    “He gave you Zorn’s name? ” The detective’s eyes widened and I saw where he was heading. An ex-cop was dead. Maybe this Estrada kid was involved.
    “He didn’t know the guy’s name,” I said, defending him. “He just described him to me. Fifty or sixty. White hair. From Santa Barbara. Slight limp. Birthmark on his cheek. This morning, as I was about to leave, I saw the news.”
    “Well, you should’ve just kept on going!” The detective glared at me. “ Look ”—he pulled the monitor back around, shrugging—“even if this kid is somehow on the level and they did talk, so what? Why are you so sure there’s a connection?”
    “Because two people who had contact with each other just a few days ago are dead. And one of them was clearly murdered; the other . . .” I didn’t say that maybe Evan’s death wasn’t quite as clear as everyone thought. “If this wasn’t about some welfare kid who was half off his rocker, you would look further—”
    “Half? ” The detective held back a smile, a tiny crease of his lips. “No one’s even agreeing that they were in contact, doc.”
    “Look, I’m sorry I made things difficult for you. Please, I’m just asking you to take a look. I know you’ll find something.”
    He took off his reading

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