The Givenchy Code Read Online Free PDF Page B

do that to a person, especially a five-feet-nine person who couldn’t do yoga if her life depended on it.
    I unfolded my body, moving slowly so I wouldn’t lose my footing, crash backwards and bash my skull in on the porcelain side of the tub. The day was already not off to a good start; massive self-inflicted head injuries would only make it worse.
    I remembered the strange encrypted note that had drawn me back to Todd’s in the first place. Now, with the sun streaming through the bathroom window, making the shiny white tub gleam and the smudge-free mirror sparkle (Todd has a cleaning lady come in three times a week), the note didn’t seem nearly as ominous. It probably was an invitation, most likely to one of those dinner-and-a-murder parties where the guests playact some role. Clever, really, if you think about it. I mean, if I were going to throw a party, I might just do the same thing.
    The one nice thing about sleeping in the tub is that you don’t have to go very far to shower. I tossed the towels I’d used as bedding out onto the bathroom floor, then cranked on the water, letting the spray beat down on me until the last of the kinks had vanished from my back and neck.
    Heaven.
    It wasn’t until I was toweling off that I realized that Todd hadn’t barged in to use either the toilet or the shower. Considering the fact that the apartment was roughly the size of a hamster cage, I knew he didn’t have a little half-bath tucked away somewhere. Maybe he’d decided to shower at the office rather than wake me up?
    And here I’d thought chivalry was dead.
    I’d left my clothes strewn on top of Todd’s stereo, so now I climbed into a pair of his sweatpants, which were hanging behind the bathroom door. The long-sleeved T-shirt hanging next to it smelled vaguely of male sweat, but I slipped it on anyway. I confess I was having a bit of morning-after regret, and I wasn’t about to wander out there in my altogether.
    Not that it would matter, I realized about two seconds later as I was strapping my watch to my wrist. It was already after ten in the morning—how had I managed to sleep all night in a bathtub?—and the living room would be perfectly empty. I knew this because I know Todd. He’s a second-year associate at some big-deal law firm, and he considers it a mortal sin to arrive after nine.
    Which is why I was so surprised to see the telltale lump on the bed as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom. No wonder he hadn’t interrupted my beauty rest: It hadn’t been chivalry, it had been exhaustion.
    “Todd,” I stage-whispered as I skirted around the coffee table we’d so carelessly shoved aside in our frenzy to get the bed open last night.
    No movement.
    “Oh, To-odd,” I sang from my side of the bed.
    Still nothing.
    “Todd!” One loud, solid bark.
    Nada.
    Jesus, I’d really worn the man out. I gave myself a mental pat on the back, cheering my sexual prowess, then climbed onto the bed and leaned over him. He might need his sleep, but he’d thank me for waking him up. Todd wasn’t the type to skulk into the office after lunch. Not at all.
    He was lying on his side, his back to me, the covers pulled up over his head. At first I didn’t notice anything remotely out of the ordinary. Then I moved closer to tap him on the shoulder, and—
    Oh God, oh God, oh God.
    Blood. Blood everywhere. And little clumps of stuff that had to be brains and—
    I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying not to retch. I lunged for the phone, then gasped in horror when I realized the line was dead. My purse was on the table, and I snatched it up, fumbling for my cell phone as I ran for the door. My phone never had service in the building, and I had to call the police. I had to get outside.
    I had to get out of there.
    Once in the hall, I skirted past the elevator—I wasn’t about to wait for it—then raced down the stairs, my mind going a million miles an hour. Who? Who did this? Did Todd have some weirdo Mafia client with