Switch by Grant McKenzie Read Free Book Online Page B

voice. ‘Either you can return to the detectives upstairs or you can disappear off their radar. I suggest the latter, but like everything I shall ask of you, the choice is entirely yours.’
    Sam took a deep breath. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘If the bodies aren’t my family’s, who are they?’

16
    Detective Hogan filled two mugs with oily black coffee from the communal pot in the tiny staff lunch room. Like most staff rooms, this one had its main corkboard wall decorated with notices for school raffles, garage sales, places for rent, and even a poster for local punk band The Rotten Johnnys, which one of the other detectives played drums for in his off-duty hours.
    Hogan added powdered cream substitute to one of the coffees and carried the cups to the two-sided desk he shared with his partner.
    Detective Preston tilted precariously on his office chair, balancing the 1½-inch heels of his cowboy boots on the flimsy keyboard tray that jutted from the desk’s underbelly. He accepted the murky coffee from his partner and took a large slurp.
    ‘This is gawd awful,’ he said with a grimace. ‘How this became our great nation’s most popular addiction, I’ll never know.’
    Hogan shrugged, took a sip and winced. It was awful. ‘So what do you think of White?’
    Preston tilted further back in his chair. ‘I hate to say it, but I think he’s OK. I rode him hard in there, but he got pissed at me for all the right reasons. His grief seems genuine. That said, I still think the situation is flaky. Just can’t figure what he gets out of it.’
    ‘I agree. There’s no money angle. He won’t see a penny from insurance. In fact, he’s worse off. I like the frustrated-actor angle though. Maybe he wanted a clean slate so he could return to Hollywood unhindered.’
    ‘Yeah, that’s definitely worth pursuing. We should talk to the neighbours. See if there were marital problems.’
    ‘There are always marital problems.’
    ‘You got that right.’ Preston grimaced again as he took another sip of coffee. ‘If you got on the barkin’ end of my wife, you’d wonder why I hadn’t shot her already.’
    Hogan’s laughter was interrupted by the electronic chirp from his desk phone. He answered it with a chuckle. ‘Hogan.’
    ‘Ah, Detective Hogan,’ said a voice tinged with excitement. ‘Chief Medical Examiner Randy Hogg, here. I have an unusual finding to report.’
    Hogan covered the mouthpiece. ‘It’s the coroner.’
    Preston dropped his feet to the floor and picked up his phone. He connected to the same line.
    ‘And what’s that, Randy?’ Hogan asked.
    ‘I still have a lot of tests to do, you understand, but I discovered an anomaly with one of the bodies.’
    ‘Speak English,’ Preston jumped in.
    Hogg changed tracks. ‘Are you sure of the race of both victims?’
    ‘The race?’ Hogan was puzzled. ‘Yeah, they’re white.’
    ‘Hmmm, that’s what I have written down.’
    ‘But?’ Preston pushed.
    ‘Yes, well, it seems the younger victim isn’t Caucasian. We found some undamaged skin and it definitely appears to be African American. Naturally, I need to run more tests and compare skeletal and dental records, but on cursory exam, I would say your cadaver does not match your victim.’

17
    They’re alive!
    Sam’s vision began to swim as he lowered the cellphone. The flimsy plastic shell felt suddenly too heavy, as though its miniature electronics had been replaced by lead.
    He looked around, his face a mask of pain. None of the scurrying strangers noticed. They moved in a blur, collars and umbrellas turned up against the spitting rain as they snuck a quick cigarette between meetings or grabbed coffee and steamed hotdogs from gleaming, chrome-accented carts on the corners.
    Sam was a ghost to them.
    They’re alive!
    The realization caused a wave of vertigo to wash over him, weakening his legs and making his stomach churn. He collapsed against the building, his face pressing into the cool damp of chiselled