Hades Read Online Free PDF

was aware of how gentle the cashmere was against his flesh. What he saw, standing in the doorway, however, made him forget about the pleasure he was feeling. He was suddenly uncertain about the upside in his future. He touched the hem of the sweater—he couldn’t help himself, tugging at it for a moment of security.
    “I thought . . .” he began but didn’t know how to continue, because he wasn’t sure exactly what it was he thought. He was startled at the sight that greeted him, standing in the bedroom doorway, and a little panicky, too. And then he realized what he wanted to say, or at least what he should say, so he tried to finish his thought. He got out the words “You weren’t supposed to—” and that was all he got out before he saw the rise of an arm, and he felt a terrible sting in his left shoulder. His right hand moved to the pain, as if covering it with his palm would somehow help, but then there was more pain in the right side of his chest, this one even worse. Everything slowed down then; the world seemed to turn hazy and dim. And then he realized he wasn’t standing anymore, he was on his knees, tumbling onto the thick Persian carpet that covered the bedroom floor. He heard another pop, and another, then he really couldn’t hear much more. He tried to speak, tried to ask what was happening, and why, but his tongue didn’t work, and his mouth made sounds that even he could tell were not real syllables, that expressed no thought. Through the haze, he saw something rise and fall, felt a horrible jolt in one leg, then the other, then his hip and his arm, and then the worst pain of all in his head, and then he felt nothing.
    His very last thought was that he’d put on the wrong sweater. He had wanted the powder blue. But somehow he’d selected the red. Wine red, he thought. Then realized no, he was wrong.
    Bloodred.

3
    Justin held the phone to his ear as Mike Haversham talked. The young cop told him about the call that had just come in and exactly what the hysterical caller had said. Justin listened quietly, trying to keep his expression stoic and flat. As he listened, Abby jumped onto the bed, one graceful leap, gently put her hands on his shoulders, softly kissed his neck, teasing as well as tempting him. His robe was loosely tied around her and her bare leg was directly in his line of vision. He stared at the only piece of jewelry she usually wore, a diamond ankle bracelet that sparkled against her lightly tanned skin.
    When Mike had finished with everything he had to say, Justin just said, “Call Gary, tell him to get there ASAP. I’ll leave here in two minutes and meet him. You wait at the station.”
    He hung up, shifted his body so he could face Abby.
    “Is everything okay?” she asked. She gave him an evil little grin, an invitation to forget about whatever it was he’d just heard and hop back into bed with her.
    “No,” he said. “Things aren’t okay.”
    “What’s the matter?” She edged the robe off her right shoulder. And then, vamping, “What could be so bad on your birthday?”
    Justin put his right hand up to his face and rubbed the middle of his forehead. He exhaled a long breath, took both her hands in his, and said, “A body was just found. There’s been a murder.”
    She looked at him, still smiling the sexy, inviting smile, waiting for the punch line. When she saw no punch line was coming, the smile faded.
    He nodded, because he saw the question she was asking with her eyes.
    “It’s Evan,” Justin Westwood said. “It’s your husband.”
    The silence lasted until he realized he couldn’t let it go on any longer.
    “Get dressed,” Justin said gently. “I’ve gotta go to the house. And you should come with me.”
    She didn’t say anything. Didn’t cry. Didn’t make a sound. She simply shook her head in tight little motions, as if what she’d just been told couldn’t be true. Then she slid off the bed, not slowly but listlessly, all energy drained from