Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8) Kaylie Hunter (books on motivation txt) 📖

with me at your apartment. I can feel Benny’s creeping eyes on us.”

I turned toward the window of the barbershop, and sure enough, Benny stood at the window watching us. “I have an errand to run first. I’ll meet you at my place in about an hour.”

Chapter Fifteen

CHARLIE

Sunday, 9:43 p.m.

I slid into my car, taking a moment to release a long breath before turning the engine over and pulling away from the curb. I pressed the button to activate the Bluetooth for my phone. “Call Tasha.”

Tasha answered on the second ring. “Medical Examiner’s office, Tasha speaking.”

“You know you don’t have to answer your cellphone like that, right?”

“I’ve given the number out to too many colleagues. Everyone calls this number instead of the main office number.”

“Fair enough. Speaking of work, got any details on the double homicides in my building?”

“You officially on the cases?”

“No. But Sergeant Quille green-lit my involvement. He’s using the case to try and drag me back to work.”

“Good enough for me. I’ve got time of death, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Hit me. I’m invincible when it comes to bad news today.”

“Your friend Pauly put up a fight. Whoever killed him was stronger and faster. Likely choked him until he passed out, but then injected him with enough morphine to kill six people.”

“Morphine? Not heroin?”

“Well, technically heroin is a synthetically altered drug made from morphine. I can go into the exact chemicals found in his blood work if you’d like, but I know you’d only yell at me for being nerdy. Therefore, simply put, it’s my opinion based on the chemical analysis that Paul Leenstra had trace heroin amounts in his system, but the drug that caused heart failure was morphine. Another examiner might disagree, though.”

“I trust your opinion, and thanks for keeping it simple. What’s the time of death?”

“I couldn’t get a precise time but calculated a window between one and four in the afternoon Saturday.”

“Impossible.”

“Science doesn’t lie, my friend.”

“I went home around seven that night. Pauly wasn’t under the stairwell.”

“That’s the part you’re not going to like. Roseline’s time of death is the same window as Pauly’s. And his DNA was found in her apartment, so Detective Gibson’s theory is that Pauly killed Roseline, then got his hands on some morphine and overdosed.”

“How does he explain the strangulation?”

“He had a couple of theories. Said it could be unrelated, happened earlier in the day. Or the more entertaining theory was that they had an erotic asphyxiation game going that got out of hand. Pauly passed out, and when he came to, he went berserk and killed Roseline.”

“That jackass.”

“Pauly?”

“No. Gibson.”

“Oh, yes. That makes more sense.” She giggled. “There’s not enough science to prove Gibson right or wrong, though.”

“Where in Roseline’s apartment did they find Pauly’s DNA?”

“Bathroom mostly. Looks like he showered. No blood trace in the drain.”

“If you pulled DNA from my shower, you’d find Pauly’s there, too. He was harmless, but when he’d gone too long without a shower, he’d stink up our lobby.”

Tasha hesitated before speaking. “Pauly also had Roseline’s blood on his left hand and on the lower left front of his shirt.”

“Like he leaned over to check on her after she was already bleeding?”

“Can’t say, but it’s possible. Wasn’t enough blood to convince me he’d done the deed. But Charlie,” she paused, taking a deep breath before she continued, “Pauly could’ve done this. I can’t prove he didn’t.”

“Just because your science can’t prove Pauly innocent, doesn’t make him guilty.” I hung up by pressing the phone button on my steering column as I turned right into the parking lot at the police station. I slammed the car door shut as I stomped across the parking lot.

When I walked through the door, the front desk officer read the expression on my face and buzzed me into the inner offices without so much as a hello. I stormed past the patrol center and jogged up the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the pain in my knee as it threatened to buckle.

I found the detectives’ room vacant, but heard voices coming from the breakroom. Upon entering, I ignored everyone else and zeroed in on Gibson.

“What are we so happy about, Gibson?” I said as I walked into the center of the room and silenced their laughter. “The fact that you’re pinning a double murder on an innocent dead man who can’t defend himself? Or the fact that you managed to break the world’s record at doing the shittiest police work ever?”

Several of the younger officers cleared out in a hurry. A few senior cops stayed, but moved away from the center of the argument.

“The evidence lines up. Pauly did it,” Gibson said, defending himself.

“There’s not enough evidence to prove his guilt or innocence. You just don’t want to work this case because it’s not high profile enough for you. Admit it—you’re nothing but a ladder climbing jackass!”

“I interviewed the neighbors. You said yourself that Roseline often fed Pauly. She let him in her apartment, and he killed her.”

“I also said, repeatedly, ‘Pauly was harmless!’ Did you miss that part?”

He stepped back half a step, before shrugging and saying, “We both know you can’t predict what someone will do given the right circumstances.”

I stepped forward, inches from Gibson’s face. “But you can gauge what it would take to push someone over that edge. You think I didn’t test him? A homeless man—sleeping in my building? You think I’d allow an unstable and violent man to roam around in my building? Shower in my apartment?”

I stepped back, kicking a chair across the room.

“Pauly didn’t do this!” I pointed a finger at him. “You either pull your head from your ass and prove it—or I will. But I promise