The Anonymous Source Read Online Free Page B

cut ‘surprisingly’ okay? Got it? Good. Sharp, who has served as assistant DA since 1995, is known for prosecuting narcotics cases and is rumored to be laying the groundwork for a mayoral campaign—can we get away with saying ‘is rumored?’ I mean, everyone knows it, but I can call around later and get someone to say it on the record if you want.”
    When the light changed, the woman crossed West Broadway.
    Alex pulled out his notebook. “Sharp portrayed Santiago as a cold-blooded killer.” He glanced down at his notes as he walked. “Quote: ‘We may not be able to understand this man’s evil, but we know it when we see it,’ end-quote, Sharp said during opening arguments. The prosecution is expected to call its first witness on Monday . . . Yeah, that’s all the new stuff, but I’ll add B-Matter when I get back . . . Yeah, I’ll be in later.”
    The woman entered the subway at Varick and Canal. Alex closed his phone and considered what he was doing. When he was interested in a woman, he generally wasn’t shy about it, especially if she was connected to a story. If she wasn’t interested in him, he could pretend that he had approached her for professional reasons. And if they hit it off, he could always find another source. But there was something about her that made him hang back. Even in the subway she appeared out of place, aloof, and this made Alex nervous.
    The station was in its midday lull. A man sat on a bench reading a book and another stood on the edge of the platform, leaning out every few seconds to look down the tunnel. Alex’s head pounded as he breathed the stale air. He saw her sitting on a bench at the north end of the station and leaned on a wall fifty feet away, pretending to read his notebook while watching her out of one eye. She stared straight ahead and passed something between the fingers of her left hand. Alex thought it was a coin.
    He heard the slow screech of a train approaching from the south. She stood and threw the coin in the air. The screech became a high-pitched, metallic scraping as she caught the coin and looked down at it. She crinkled her nose at the coin, then walked into the first car once the train stopped in front of her.
    Alex took a step toward the train, then paused. He wanted to follow but he was frozen.
    The train pulled out and Alex turned toward the exit. He had to get back to court anyway.

Chapter Five
    INSIDE THE TRAIN , Camila Gray sat next to a large woman and scanned the ads along the top of the subway car. Her mind was blank and she read slowly. “Live a Life Without Fear,” a workshop with someone she’d never heard of; “¡Hablemos Español!” a law firm specializing in deportation issues; “Sex in the City,” a singles club.
    The woman beside her touched Camila’s leg. “You okay, honey?” she asked.
    Camila turned toward her and let her eyes go soft so she saw only a brownish blur. The woman smelled of cinnamon and bleach. “Why do you ask?” Camila said quietly.
    “You look sad. Is it ‘cause of the 9/11 anniversary comin’ up?”
    “I’m sorry,” Camila replied. “No, it’s not that. I don’t mean to make you sad as well.” She smiled. “My ex-boyfriend was murdered. My father is dying. This is just how I am right now.”
    The woman patted Camila on the knee and turned away. The smell of bleach reminded Camila of the first time she had done her own laundry.
    She’d been eight at the time and had poured in half a bottle of bleach, then hid under her bed as the scent spread throughout the house. It was the first time her father had slapped her. “You’ll learn not to be so precocious,” was all he’d said. Afterward, her face aching, she had sat in a small white oak tree below her bedroom window, flipping a silver and gold Argentinian peso coin. When giving her the coin, Camila’s grandmother had said, “When you feel lost, choose two possibilities, one for heads and one for tails. Then flip. But you do not have