Fatal Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page A

eliminated.”
    Boyd wanted to say the illegal stuff could be eliminated without the benefit of testing, because this was Josh they were talking about, dammit. The man barely even took the occasional Advil. But he knew all too well that drugs sometimes wound up in a vic’s system through no conscious choice of their own. Just ask all the roofied girls he’d talked to in ERs while a forensic nurse prepared to give them a sexual assault kit. Boyd drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
    “We’re also waiting for the genetic tests the coroner’s office ordered.” Morgan’s eyes were sympathetic. “Maybe those results will shed more light.”
    “Right.” He dragged a hand over his face. “So, what kind of wait are we talking about for the genetics? Weeks? Months?”
    “Months would be my guess. The backlog is hellish.”
    Boyd nodded his understanding. He’d had to explain similar delays to many a bereaved mother or father or wife who’d just wanted to understand what had happened to their loved one. “Maybe my results will come back first.”
    “You had genetic testing done on yourself?”
    “After what happened with Josh, I had everything done. I’ve been imaged, had ECGs, EEGs, cardiac ultrasound, stress tests. I’ve worn a Holter monitor for forty-eight hours. They couldn’t find even a whiff of abnormality, with the electrical system or otherwise.”
    “Interesting.” Morgan scribbled a note and put it in the folder.
    Boyd gestured to the file. “Any chance I can get a copy of that?”
    “The file?” Morgan snorted. “You’re welcome to look at it, but I can’t be giving out copies. Which I think you knew before you asked. But I’ll keep you abreast of developments. Like I said on the phone, I’m happy to do another sit-down with you further down the line, if it seems like it would be useful.”
    “I guess that’ll have to be good enough.”
    The other detective’s handsome features hardened. “I’ve already assured you that when I get toxicology back, you’ll know about it. When I have the genetics report, you’ll hear from me. Short of deputizing you and handing you the case, I don’t know what more I can do.”
    “Sorry.” Boyd held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. The man was right. And the last thing Boyd wanted to do was piss off his best window into Josh’s case. “I know you’re bending over backwards here. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I’m just—”
    “I know.” Some of the ice went out of Morgan’s eyes. “Don’t sweat it.”
    Boyd cleared his throat. “Look, I know you told me a lot of this stuff on the phone, and I appreciate that. I really do. But can you walk me through the timeline again? I just need to understand what happened.”
    Something stirred in Morgan’s eyes now. Pity, he realized. Ordinarily, that would sting. Nobody pitied Boyd McBride. But under the circumstances, he’d take it. Take it and exploit it if he could.
    Anything to find out the truth about Josh’s death.
    “Sure.” Morgan pulled the file closer, opened it, rifled through a few papers. “Josh got up early that day. He responded to emails around six a.m. As you know, he was living at Stratton House B&B—Dr. Sylvia Stratton’s place on Waterloo Row—rather than renting an apartment. The housekeeper there reported that he had breakfast at about six fifty, same as usual. He had his laptop with him at the breakfast table. Said he was putting the finishing touches on an article he was going to file that day with his editor at the paper.” Morgan glanced up. “I probably told you all this last time you were here. We’d pretty much had this timeline worked up.”
    “Yeah, but keep going. Maybe I’ll hear something I missed last time. I wasn’t at my best.”
    “Okay.” Morgan scanned the page in front of him again. “Sylvia Stratton and two of her staffers, including the aforementioned housekeeper, saw Josh at breakfast and attested that he looked fine. The