Hades (Contemporary Mythos Book 1)

by Carly Spade

  I grabbed Hades by the elbow and pulled him over. “What are you doing?”

  His brow furrowed. “He’s a smart ass.”

  “But he’s still giving information. The idea is to be the ‘bad’ in ‘bad cop’ when he refuses.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Fine.”

  “Your first three victims were inconclusive due to no physical evidence, but witnesses were saying they saw someone who matched your description. Was it you? Alleyways? Rainy nights?”

  “Yes,” he clipped, glaring at Hades from across the room.

  My nerves dissipated, and I took a step closer. “After the fourth victim, you were pulled in for a field line up. Why was the witness not able to identify you?”

  “They needed glasses?”

  Hades swiped his hand in the air, and Earnest arched from his chair, gurgling and shaking. I widened my eyes at Hades, and he dropped his hand with a shrug.

  “Earnest, you’re dead and have already been judged. What good does it do you to lie?” I asked, trying to keep my tone sympathetic.

  He groaned. “It was dark, and I always wore a baseball cap.”

  And that explained why there were rarely any witnesses who could confirm his face.

  “Your fifth victim. I found evidence on your phone, which clearly showed you setting up a time to meet with an unknown number an hour before they were found dead. Was that the victim?”

  “Yeah. But they didn’t show up. I even let the cops into my apartment to do their little search. Did they find anything?” He chuckled. “Who the hell are you anyway? Snooping on my phone?”

  Hades stormed in front of me, the arches of his wings peeking from his back. Earnest leaned back, shaking. He tried to lift his hands to his face, but the chains prevented it.

  “She is asking the questions. You’ve just escalated your punishment.” The wings slipped away, and he stepped aside.

  Earnest whimpered.

  He was right. They didn’t find anything in his apartment, not a single piece of evidence. Irritation boiled in my core all over again.

  “The sixth victim. I found your name in police logs, which I later found out officers forgot to document. They stated they found you loitering near Lincoln Park. You had a hammer on you. They said you stated you were going to help a friend repair a leaky roof. Another rainy day. Tell me the true story.” My body tensed.

  “People can’t repair roofs on rainy days?”

  Hades didn’t bat an eyelash and launched forward, morphing into his Underworld form with a flash of fire and ash. He raised his arms above his head and roared in Earnest’s face. “Answer the questions you insolent toad!”

  He was going to make this guy pee his pants and go mute before I had a chance to finish. I yanked on Hades’ arm. He whipped his head over his shoulder, chest heaving as he looked down at me.

  “A word?” I asked, motioning with my finger.

  The wings folded behind his back, and he followed me to the corner.

  “You’ve been torturing him for how many years now? I think all you need to do is glare or pretend you’re going to swat him to get him to cooperate.”

  “You said,” he pointed at me. “I was bad cop.”

  “Yes. Bad cop. Not terrifying cop. He has to be able to speak.”

  Hades blinked. “I think you underestimate my level of intimidation.”

  “I’m almost done. Can you keep it to a bare minimum? Please?”

  The corners of his jaw popped. “As you wish.” He stepped aside, displaying his hand toward a fidgeting Earnest.

  I cleared my throat and flattened out my shirt. After clasping my hands in front of me to assure Earnest I intended to do nothing with them, I lowered my voice to barely above a whisper. “Earnest?”

  His bottom lip trembled, and he stared at me wide-eyed.

  “A few more questions and we’re done. Good?”

  He nodded, not blinking.

  “The last victim is where things got especially confusing. The cops found the victim with a hammer near the body. They went to your house from prior suspicions. Your arm was bandaged up.”

  Earnest shifted in his seat, digging his heels into the ground as if he were trying to back away.

  “The suspect’s blood more than likely got washed away from the rain, but that particular victim fought back more than the others, didn’t he?”

  “He damn near broke my arm,” he mumbled.

  Confirmation. My heartbeat quickened.

  “Did you use a hammer?” I asked, biting down on my lip.

  “Yes.”

  “The hammer inexplicably disappeared from the evidence locker. Did you have something to do with that?”

  “I had someone on the inside.”

  My throat constricted. “Who?”

  “Never got his real name. Called himself Bulldog. But he was a cop. I can tell you that much.”

  And another can of worms opened. I’d file that one for later.

  “Where’s the hammer now?”

  He smirked. “Oh, you have no shot at finding it. Threw it into Lake Michigan.”

  Tears stung at my sinuses. Here I was interviewing a dead murderer, and even getting all the answers out of him led nowhere.

  “Give me something, Earnest. There has to be something, anything that could tie you to these murders. To prove it.” I lurched forward, pointing a finger in his face. “You owe the families that much.”

  “You know, when I was a kid, my mom used to take me to Lincoln Park every Sunday. We’d walk on the path, and I’d point at every damn animal I saw. It was a time just for us,” Earnest said, gaze dropping to his feet.

  I leaned back, thrown off guard. The darkness of his aura sputtered with fractals of white.

  “My mom died when I was eight.”

  And now we had something in common.

  “A burglar. She’d been taking a nap on the couch. I was downstairs playing video games. I heard a gunshot, ran upstairs, and caught sight of the guy running out of the house with our VCR. Mom’s blood stained the area rug in the living room.” His face contorted into pure fury, his wrists pulling at his chains. “She died over a fucking VCR.”

  I gulped, thinking back to the night I found out about the fire. It was unsettling, realizing our pasts were so similar. Who wanted to share a similar backstory with a serial killer?

  “I’m sure they noticed all the men I killed had a similar look. I found people who reminded me of him, and beat their skulls in with a hammer because it made me feel better. But then I’d get angry soon after and have to do it again.”

  Hades pressed his hand into the small of my back.

  Earnest studied my face and smirked. “You’ll want to go to Lincoln Park. There’s a huge willow tree that droops due east. At its base, buried several feet down—you’ll find what you need.” His shoulders hunched forward. “Do you know why I committed suicide?”

  “To avoid paying for your crimes?” Hades mumbled.

  Earnest stared at the floor, tears welling in his eyes. “Because I knew I was going to hell, but I wanted to be damn sure about it.”

  Dizziness washed over me, and I staggered backward, grasping my head.

  Hades caught me.

  “Thank—” I started to say to Earnest, but he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  “We need to get you back to the surface, Stephanie.”

  Hades kept me standing upright and turned me to face him. I fought back the tears as he traced his fingertips over the side of my forehead.

  “Both of our mothers died tragically. He wound up a serial killer. What if I have that inside of me?”

  “You’re not him,” Hades said. He pulled me flush with his chest, wrapping his arms around me. He stroked the back of my head. “People respond to tragedy in different ways. You went a different path. You sought the passion in humanity versus giving up on it altogether. One of the many reasons you’re a remarkable human being.”

  I shoved my face into his shoulder, memo
rizing the scent of burning wood. “High praise from a god.”

  He peeled back, peering down at me. “High praise from me.”

  My eyelids grew heavy. “I’ve never felt this tired.” Exhaustion was more like it. So much so, I started to sway.

  “You need to go. Solve the case. Give those families a gift only you can bestow.” He kissed my lips with such delicacy; it felt like a passing feather. His hand grazed over my shoulder, making it tingle. “I’ll always be watching over you.” He winced.

  His words disappeared like a whisper caught by the wind. Before I could say anything else, I was back in my hotel room.

  The next day was a blur. Sara drilled me for an hour on where I was during the time I was in the Underworld. Telling her I was hanging out with Hades didn’t seem to satisfy her. I remembered shoving clothes into my suitcase and saying final farewells to Keith and Guy because Sara insisted. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the plane. I had no recollection of the cab ride, going through security, claiming my boarding pass, none of it. My time with Hades engraved itself into my brain. Him. The Underworld. I’d never forget any of it.

  “Stephanie,” Sara beckoned.

  I snapped to attention, sucking air through my nostrils. She’d walked me up to my apartment after our cab ride from the airport, but I’d been standing in the middle of my living room, purse still resting on my shoulder. I trailed a hand over my arm, the bullet graze wound no longer there.

  “What the ever-loving hell is wrong with you? Are you on drugs?” She glared at me.

  “What? No. I’d never do that.” I tossed my purse on the nearest surface.

  She crossed her arms. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t been an absolute zombie since we left Greece. What aren’t you telling me?” She dropped her hands, balling them into fists. “Did Hades hurt you?”

  “No. No, I just—I’m going to miss him.” The words stung to say out loud.

  She frowned. In two quick strides, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around me in one of her trademark hugs. It was enough to make me melt, and I rested my head on her shoulder with a disgruntled sigh.

  “He didn’t say anything about meeting up with you again?”

  “His job. He can’t.” I slipped away, sniffling and rubbing the back of my hand over my nose.

  “I thought he worked from home mostly?”

  It killed me inside I couldn’t explain any of it to her.

  “It’s complicated, and I don’t want to get into it. Please. Thanks for walking me upstairs. I think I’m going to get some rest.”

  She narrowed her eyes, studying me. The human lie detector at work. “Alright. I’ll see you at work tomorrow. I’ll make sure to get extra shots of espresso in our coffees. We’re gonna need it.” She chuckled and slipped out the door.

  I spent the next ten minutes standing in the middle of my living room, unable to function like a normal human being. All things Hades aside, there was still the matter of Earnest Fueller. The reason, “it came to me in a dream,” wasn’t going to cut it. I’d have no choice but to get Sara involved and beg her to say the tip came from an anonymous call. She was a sworn-in officer. Her word meant gold compared to mine. Being able to look Mrs. Conroy in the face, and tell her with absolute certainty who killed her husband would hopefully ease the pain I felt. After popping a couple of Tums in my mouth, I readied myself for a restless night’s sleep.

  “Can you tell me what we’re doing roaming tree after tree in Lincoln Park, please?” Sara asked, rubbing her arms over her leather jacket.

  I squinted behind my glasses as I turned several times. “Which way is East again? Never.” I turned. “Eat.”

  “Soggy Waffles? You still use that third-grade trick to figure out your directions?” Sara asked with a raised brow.

  “It’s as solid of a method as any.” I frowned, facing what I thought was East, but seeing no trace of a willow tree.

  She grabbed my shoulders. “Or, you can use the sun.” She turned me to the right, and there in the corner beckoning me like a rainbow sprinkle cupcake was the tree.

  I ran over and dropped to the ground, not caring about grass stains on my knees.

  “Sara, come help me,” I yelled over my shoulder.

  The ground was harder than I thought, and I broke a nail the moment I tried to dig.

  Sara crouched down. “What are you doing, Steph?”

  “This might sound crazy, but—” I adjusted my glasses. “I had a dream that evidence for the case is buried here.”

  “A dream?”

  I nodded.

  She looked around the park, which was conveniently far less crowded than it usually was. “If you knew you were going to dig a hole, why didn’t you bring a shovel, you silly goose?”

  “Wouldn’t it look a bit suspicious walking through Lincoln Park with a shovel?”

  She shrugged. “If anyone asked, I’d have said we were planting a tree.”

  “It annoys me at times how much sense you tend to make at every turn,” I said.

  “We’ll improvise. Here.” She handed me a flattened rock.

  We both went to work, slamming our rocks in the ground and breaking off bits of hardened dirt little by little. Every few thwacks, Sara would lift her head, making sure no one was watching us. A corner of a bag sprung out. The once clear plastic had turned cloudy from the years spent underground. I reached forward, and Sara slapped my hand. She dug into her pocket and handed me a rubber glove.

  “Do you always have rubber gloves on you?” I asked, slipping it on with a snap.

  “Of course I do.”

  I held the bag up, and it unrolled. Inside was a stained hammer. “That son-of-a-bitch lied,” I whispered.

  Sara leaned around the bag, staring at me. “Who lied?”

  “Uh.” Quickly. Think faster. “The guy in my dream. Funny, huh?” I forced a chuckle. Earnest lied even after Hades upped his torture sentence. Being one of the world’s most putrid worms was ingrained into his very soul.

  She narrowed her eyes but then cocked her head to the side, examining the bag. She removed another glove, slipped it on, and yanked the bag out of my hand. “This is one of our evidence bags. How did he get it out of the locker?”

  “Inside job?” I tried to sound as cavalier as possible.

  She handed it back to me, glaring at the ground. “It had to be. Now I need to figure out who.”

  “That was years ago. They might not even work there anymore. If they were smart, they would’ve quit after the trial.” I rolled the bag back up and filled the hole.

  She dusted off her hands. “If they were smart, they wouldn’t have ever knowingly assisted a serial killer. Which leads me to believe they still work for us.”

  I bit my lip. “Sara, I know you’ve done a ton of favors for me lately, but I need to ask for one more.”

  Sara gently took the bag from my hands. “I received an anonymous tip on where to find evidence proving Fueller’s guilt.”

  There were times I questioned whether I deserved such a profound friendship. Sisterhood.

  “I know it’s lying, but—” My brow creased.

  She shook her head and interrupted me with, “Come on, let’s get it back to the station before someone sees us.”

  When Sara announced the anonymous call to the department, most of the troopers hadn’t believed her. Until they took a look at the evidence bag and realized it was an older version they no longer used. They questioned several times why someone was only coming forward now with the information. Slick Sara shrugged and told them fear could make people do all sorts of things. A trial was set for a month later to close the case for good.

  Sara was on the stand to testify her finding the hammer and presenting the DNA lab results. I curled my hands in my lap after swallowing a Tums, waiting for the judge to start his questioning.

  “For the record, Detective Hickman can you state your involvement in the Fueller case?” The judge asked, his squared reading glasses r
esting on the tip of his nose as he shuffled papers.

  The witness stand. A necessary evil in my profession. I’d always hated it, but Sara was a natural with it.

  “I was the lead detective,” Sara answered.

  “How did you come across the murder weapon as evidence in the Fueller case?” He tapped a pen against his gavel.

  “I received an anonymous phone call. The voice was distorted, but they were explicitly clear of the location under the willow tree in Lincoln Park.” Her eyes surveyed the few people in the courtroom. Me, Mrs. Conroy, a few of the troopers from the department, and several others. “They stated they’d seen Fueller bury it there, but feared connections to Fueller might have come after them or their family.”

  The judge nodded slowly, scribbling something down on a piece of paper in front of him.

  The room was silent as the grave. Images of Earnest’s snarky face as he told me the hammer was at the bottom of Lake Michigan poked at me. I held my breath.

  The judge rubbed his hands together. Mrs. Conroy was in the first row, tears rolling down her cheeks. She clasped her hands together in silent prayer.

  “Given the evidence presented to me today and Earnest Fueller’s DNA found on said evidence, I find the defendant guilty. If he were alive, I’d have sentenced him to two life sentences in prison. I’m sure wherever he is, he’s receiving a far worse punishment. Case closed.” The sound of wood hitting against wood vibrated in my ears as he brought the gavel down.

  If the judge only knew how right he was.

  I pinched my eyes shut, relief washing over me. Mrs. Conroy leaped from her seat, bawling her eyes out. Once Sara stepped down from the stand, she ran over to her and hugged her so tightly it made Sara blow out a breath.

  “Thank you so much, Sara. You have no idea how amazing it is to feel this sense of closure,” Mrs. Conroy said through several sniffles.

  “Thank the anonymous tipper.” Sara gave me a knowing smile over Mrs. Conroy’s shoulder.

  Mrs. Conroy wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned around to see me. She wailed again and wrapped her arms around me.

  “Thank you so much for your help, Miss Costas.” She squeezed my shoulders and ran out of the courtroom.