Page 115 of Don't Say a Word
Eric didn’t say anything, just continued to glare.
I said, “I know the basics. You were Bradford’s right hand. You recruited others. But you were the only one who knew that Coach Bradford was in charge.”
He gave a very small nod.
“When Bradford was caught, Scott Jimenez tried to kill you.”
“I remember.” He lifted up his sleeve to reveal a scar.
Definitely a bullet wound.
“Bradford swore in his plea agreement that he never told or asked Jimenez to kill you.”
“Right. And you believe him?” Eric shook his head.
“It makes more sense to me that he was telling the truth. I’m thinking that someone picked up where Bradford left off. Do you remember a student named Elijah Martinez?”
Eric shook his head. “Should I?”
“He was a freshman at the time.”
“If he wasn’t a jock, or dealing for me, I didn’t know him.”
“What about Lena Clark?”
“Of course. She’s the guidance counselor.”
“Was the guidance counselor,” I said. “She was stabbed to death on Monday.”
He blanched. “Oh, my God. Who did it?”
“The police don’t know, but she was asking questions about Elijah’s overdose. And I think Elijah was killed because he was investigating the overdose death of Megan Osterman.”
“Megan,” he said with a whisper.
“You know her?”
“She died?”
“She had a drug problem for the last three years.”
“I thought she cleaned herself up,” he said. “Fucking asshole.”
“Excuse me?”
“Jimenez. He got her hooked. Megan was a sweetheart, a year younger than us. Always came to our games. Very shy though. Fell hard for Scott. He was obsessive with her, and I thought when Scott went to prison, she’d turn her life around.”
“She died the Fourth of July weekend behind the veterinary clinic on Hatcher, across from the Cactus Stop. Scott’s sister is the manager there.”
He blinked rapidly, but didn’t say anything. He knew something.
“Two months later, Elijah Martinez died,” I said.
“Drugs kill,” he said. “Even when I was dealing, I never touched the stuff.”
“Someone poisoned him with fentanyl.”
“Like I said, drugs kill.”
