True Evil Read Online Free PDF

known Thora as a nurse, of course, but he came to know her much better during Red's years in heart failure. And what he learned was that Red truly loved "his little Viking"—a reference to Thora's Danish ancestry—and that Thora had been a brave and loyal wife, a woman worthy of deep respect. When Red died two and a half years ago, he left Thora an estate valued at $6.5 million. That was big money in Natchez, but it meant little to Chris. He had some money of his own, and he was young enough to earn plenty more.
    "Agent Morse," he said in a neutral tone, "I'm not going to discuss my wife with you. But I will tell you this. Thora doesn't stand to gain or lose anything if we get divorced."
    "Why not? She's very wealthy."
    "She has money, yes. But so do I. I started saving the day I began moonlighting in emergency rooms, and I've made some lucky investments. But the real issue here is legal. We both signed a prenuptial agreement before we married. If we were to get divorced, each person would leave the marriage with exactly what he or she brought into it."
    Agent Morse studied Chris in silence. "I didn't know that."
    He smiled. "Sorry to punch a hole in your theory."
    Morse seemed suddenly lost in thought, and Chris sensed that for her, in that moment, he was not even there. Her face was more angular than he'd thought at first; it had its own odd shadows.
    "Tell me this," she said suddenly. "What happens if either of you dies?"
    As Chris thought about this, he felt a hollowness high in his stomach. "Well…I believe our wills kick in at that point. And those override the prenup. At least I think they do."
    "What does your will say? Who gets those lucky investments you made?"
    Chris looked at the floor, his face growing hot. "My parents get a nice chunk."
    "That's good. And the rest?"
    He looked up at her. "Thora gets it all."

    Morse's eyes flashed with triumph.
    "But…," Chris protested.
    "I'm listening."
    "Thora is worth millions of dollars. What would be the point? Kill me to get an extra two million?"
    Morse rubbed her chin for a few moments, then looked up at the narrow window set in the top of the wall. "People have been killed for less, Dr. Shepard. A lot less."
    "By millionaires?"
    "I wouldn't doubt it. And people are murdered every day for reasons other than money. How well do you know your wife? Psychologically, I mean?"
    "Pretty damn well."
    "Good. That's good."
    Chris was starting to dislike Agent Morse intensely. "You think my wife murdered her first husband, don't you?"
    Morse shrugged. "I didn't say that."
    "You might as well have. But Red Simmons had a long history of heart disease."
    "Yes, he did."
    Morse's inside knowledge of events was pissing him off.
    "But no autopsy was done," she pointed out.
    "I'm aware of that. You're not suggesting that one should be done now, are you?"
    Agent Morse dismissed this idea with a flick of her hand. "We wouldn't find anything. Whoever's behind these murders is too good for that."
    Chris snorted. "Who's that good, Agent Morse? A professional assassin? A forensic pathologist?"
    "There was a mob enforcer some years ago who prided himself on this kind of work. He was a very reserved man with a massive ego. He had no formal medical training, but he was an enthusiastic amateur. He's nominally retired now. We've had some people following him, just to make sure."
    Chris couldn't sit any longer. He rose and said, "This is nuts. I mean, what the hell do you expect me to do now?"

    "Help us."
    " Us? That's only about the third time you've said us in this whole conversation."
    Agent Morse smiled more fully this time. "I'm the lead agent. We're spread pretty thin on these kinds of cases since 9/11. Everybody's working counterterrorism."
    Chris looked deep into her eyes. There was sincerity there, and passion. But he saw something else, too—something not so different from what he read in the eyes of those patients who tried to con him out of drugs every week.
    "Murder's a state crime,