Eyes Wide Open

“Gabby, call the police!” Charlie said.

She backed away, immobilized with fear. “I can’t, Charlie, I can’t! I’m scared.”

“It’s locked!” he said, trying to reassure her. “She can’t get in. Just call! ”

Suddenly from behind them they heard the clinking sound of glass splintering.

His heart almost climbed through his chest.

Someone was coming in.

Charlie ran around to the kitchen almost like someone reacting to multiple leaks on a sinking ship. He grabbed a chef’s knife he had left out on the counter.

A hand had already smashed through the pane and was reaching in, twisting the inside lock.

It opened. It was too late.

Charlie lunged at the hand with his knife, but the door thrust open, smacking into him like a linebacker powering him to the floor, the knife clattering off to his side.

A man entered. He and Gabby stared at him in fear, Charlie from the floor. The intruder wore a torn flannel shirt and soiled baggy pants, his hair receding under his cap, with long sideburns and a thick mustache.

“Who are you? ” Gabby looked at him with terror. “What are you doing in my house?”

“Get on up, Charlie,” the man said, his grin suggesting any resistance was useless. He shut the door behind him. There was a gun in his hand. “Don’t go for the knife, guy. You’ll ruin all the fun.”

Charlie sat there on the floor, transfixed by the blade. He would do it, he thought, go for it, try to end it here. But who would protect Gabby? And there were things the man knew that he and Gabby needed to hear.

So he just sat there staring, at what he knew was the end of his life. “Hello, Dev.”

Chapter Seventy-Four

I headed out the same doors I had entered-my head still throbbing, my steps unsure.

I spotted the medical van that had brought me there parked in front of the entrance. I looked around for a policeman, at the same time wondering just how I was going to explain things. A bloodied man, staggering about, barely coherent. Going on about how his son was in danger back east. And how the only detective who could corroborate his story was possibly dead. How he had to save his brother and sister-in-law.

How would that go over? It sounded insane. They would probably just escort me back inside and order a sedative.

I had to do something.

I ran out of the drop-off area and made my way, disoriented, onto the street. I spotted a taxi parked in front of the hospital. I headed toward it, shaking out the cobwebs in my head, trying to remember Charlie’s address and what the hell I was going to do when I got there.

I climbed into the back.

“Six-oh-nine Division Street,” I told the cabbie. “In Grover Beach.”

The driver, a Pakistani, barely even looked at me, putting the car in gear. “Okay, sir…”

He pulled a U-ey and headed in the opposite direction. I sank back into the seat. Within seconds, I was clear of the hospital. The craziness of what I was doing was starting to sink in.

I leaned forward. “Do you have a cell phone?” I asked.

“Yes.” The driver nodded. “I do.”

“Can I borrow it? It’s an emergency. I’m a doctor…”

The driver turned and actually eyed me for the first time, and warily. Who could blame him? I was disheveled, bloody, and barely coherent. He hesitated, probably wondering if he should pull over and tell me to get the hell out.

“Please, it’s a police emergency,” I said again. “My son’s in danger. I’m a doctor. I need to call my wife.”

Something must have convinced him, because after thinking a second, he pulled his phone off the seat next to him and handed it back to me.

“Thank you,” I said, grateful, meeting his concerned eyes.

The first call was to Kathy. I could barely punch in the number, I was so nervous and disoriented. Dev had said they had Max. I could barely hold on as I heard it ring.

“Hello?”

“Kath, ” I shouted as she answered. I saw the clock on the taxi’s dashboard. It was eleven P.M. back home.

She heard the disturbance in my voice right away. “Jay, what’s wrong?”

“Kath-where’s Maxie? ” I asked. “Is he okay?”

“Max? I don’t know, Jay. He’s out at a friend’s. He said he was studying. What’s wrong?”

“When was the last time you heard from him?” I asked her.

“The last time? I don’t know. A couple of hours ago. He said he’d be home by eleven. Why?”

“Kathy, you need to call him,” I said to her, “ now.” My heart was leaping around like a cod in a catch bin. “He could be in trouble. Do it for me, Kathy. Now.”

“Jay, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you right now, but please, please, Kathy, just do it. Call him. While I’m on the phone. Now! ”

“Okay…,” she answered tremulously.

I figured she was in bed. Reading. She got up and ran to her phone. The next seconds seemed like an hour to me. My hands were shaking. Like most doctors, I was a guy who didn’t rush to assumptions, who always waited for the facts to determine a course of action.

But my mind was rushing to the worst now.

Finally she came back on the line. “There’s no answer. Jay, tell me what the hell is going on.”