Best Laid Plans (Lucy Kincaid, #9)

“She would only say it’s suspicious.”


Barry glanced over at her as they got into the car. “I would strongly suggest that your boyfriend not insert himself into this investigation.”

“What?” She was confused.

“I heard your conversation with Gregor Smith.”

“I didn’t bring Sean up.”

“I know,” he conceded, “but it could make things sticky if someone from HWI is involved in Worthington’s death, and the FBI agent investigating the case is sharing a bed with HWI’s consultant.”

He turned the ignition and got on the phone so Lucy couldn’t comment, even if she could have thought of something to say.





CHAPTER SIX



When Lucy walked into the morgue, she relaxed for the first time all day.

She’d interned with the Washington, D.C., Medical Examiner for more than a year while waiting to hear back on her FBI application. The experience had not only been educational, but she’d found she was good at the job. Because she was a certified pathologist, she’d assisted in autopsies and had been so meticulous that her D.C. supervisor wanted her to apply for a full-time position. But Lucy’s goal had been to become an FBI agent.

Most deaths were natural, and the Medical Examiner could give answers when no one else could. There was a methodical process that was comforting in its order, from logging the body to the external exam to the actual autopsy. But what Lucy liked the most was the overlaying sense of calm and serenity. There was a deep respect for the dead.

The Bexar County Medical Examiner’s office was much larger and busier than she was accustomed to, even in D.C., because it was a teaching facility located at the University of Texas Health Science Center. But the sights and smells were the same, and Lucy felt immediately at ease.

Julie Peters had left their names at the main desk, and they were escorted to Julie’s cubicle by a quiet intern.

“I was right,” Julie said before Lucy or Barry could say hello. She didn’t look at them, but continued filling out a form.

“About what?” Lucy asked.

“Everything.”

“You’re done already?”

“It’s noon. Of course I’m done. I can’t give you an official report because I don’t have toxicology and a few other tests, and I need my boss to sign off on my findings, but I can tell you that he died of asphyxiation.”

“He was strangled?” Barry asked.

“Nope,” Julie said. “He couldn’t breathe.”

“Suffocated?” Lucy said.

“Not exactly. There were no signs of bruising around his nose and mouth, and no fibers in his mouth, nose, or throat.”

“Asphyxiation is the lack of oxygen,” Lucy said. “If he wasn’t strangled, drowned, or physically suffocated, it would have to be chemical or natural, like an allergy.”

“Hence, my need for toxicology before I can make an official determination. But I have some facts that may help in your investigation. First, the deceased was already dead when his pants were removed. He’d voided his bladder when he died.”

“I thought that only happened in a violent death,” Barry said.

Julie shook her head. “It can happen to anyone at time of death, particularly if their bladder was full. Blood stops circulating, lungs stop working, muscles relax, et cetera. It really depends on a variety of factors, but it’s not uncommon.

“Second, the victim did not have sex near the time of death. There was no semen in the urethra or ducts—which means he wasn’t aroused. No pre-cum in his pants, nothing to indicate sexual excitement.”

“Some sexual predators can’t ejaculate,” Lucy said. “I worked a case in D.C. where a rapist brutalized his victims with foreign objects because he couldn’t orgasm.”

“It happens, but in this case I doubt it—all his equipment is there and appears to be in working order, but some drugs can have an impact on sexual performance, for better or worse,” Julie said. “For my next fact, I found saliva on his penis. A quick test determined that it was female, but I’ve asked for a complete DNA analysis.”

“How old was the saliva?” Lucy asked.

Julie snapped her fingers. “Smart girl! There was no saliva or female DNA in his underwear. Nada. Our forensic lab examined the underwear extremely meticulously—at my request—using all the tools at our disposal. So I would testify under oath that the saliva wasn’t present until after his pants were pulled down.”

“Which means that he was dead.”

Julie grinned. “Yep.”

“That’s disgusting,” Barry said.

Lucy had investigated worse. Nothing about human nature surprised her anymore.

“And?” she asked Julie.

“You think there’s more?”

“You could have told Barry all of that over the phone. Which means you want to show us something.”