Love Lies Bleeding Read Online Free PDF

he still felt as if he could pass out from exhaustion. Though each time he tried sleeping, he'd just lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Taking a sip from the cup in his hand, Leo made a face. "Tastes like motor oil."
    "Yeah," Officer Slade agreed. "What else is new? I think the reason why the coffee hasn't gotten better since the beginning of time is because no matter how bad it is, it keeps us awake."
    Leo laughed. "So true." He took another sip to stress his point and hauled his tired body back to his desk. Placing his cup on the desk, he pushed from his coat and slung it over the back of his chair. The Williams' file was sitting like an eyesore on his desk. Inside the covers of the file folder he prayed he had something to tell him who the killer could be. Though he had pored over it cover to cover the night before and found nothing.
    He was desperately trying to be positive, to remain calm. But it was getting harder. One of the officers hurried in and handed him a file. "The background check you wanted," he explained.
    Leo grunted his thanks and instantly leafed through the information. A background check on Anderson Williams brought back nothing of consequence. All he found out was he was a wealthy smart-ass who spent way too much time teaching and not enough time spending his millions. There went that suspect.
    "Hey, Leo. I got the medical examiner's final report on the Williams' case."
    "The son checks completely out," Leo said, accepting the file and opening it. He placed it on his desk and skimmed through it. "He was at NYU that morning from about six at the gym, then class right afterward; the access card records and video surveillance proved it." Daniel stopped for a bit to read. "Well, the judge wasn't alive when his head came off. I guess that's something. Says here the cause of death was asphyxiation."
    "Yeah—someone strangled him."
    "But why strangulation? I mean it's so personal and up close."
    "Do you think it's someone he put away? Or a family member of someone he put away?"
    Leo shrugged. "Who knows? I spent the night just poring over the pictures from the scene, especially that excerpt from the Edgar Allan Poe poem. I just kept drawing blanks. The internet wasn't any use. Just some big shots talking a bunch of crap that make my fucking brain hurt."
    "And the son didn't tell you anything?"
    "He couldn't. It's like he had to force himself to remain sane while I was speaking to him. He was out of it, Danny. I didn't think he had anything to do with it. No one could fake that much grief."
    "You going to tell him we looked into his alibi?" Daniel smirked.
    "He already knew we were going to. I mean he's a literature professor. After that Poe quote on the wall, he must have known."
    Daniel chuckled.
    Falling into his seat, Leo stretched his legs out before him and tilted his neck one way then the next. He hadn't had a wink of sleep the night before. Perhaps that was why he hadn't come up with anything at all. His mind was painfully numb with rage. Even though some time had passed, sometimes at nights, he had to lock himself into the bathroom and just scream before he felt as if he wasn't going to implode.
    "Look. I'll keep reaching out to my contacts to see if they've heard anything."
    "Me too. In the meantime, I asked the DA for a list of his cases going back about ten years. She said there are plenty of them, so we'll have our hands full."
    "We're running solo on this one, Kim. The boss said he can't spare the manpower. I managed to keep the few uniforms we took off the Petrol case to help us with any more legwork we may come up with, but we can't hold them indefinitely. The minute they manage to locate the suspect, we have to give the uniforms back."
    "I figured. Go ahead and send them back now. But tell Hoffstan we may need to borrow them again. In the meantime, there is no reason why the both of us should stick around here."
    "I'll let you know what they find out. Did you tell him how you know his father