“He told me to give you a message,” Alexis said. “You’re running out of time.”
My breath caught. Shit. The Gods were getting impatient.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” she asked, her tone suspicious.
“No, of course not.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I stood and started pacing back and forth in front of the couch. “Listen, Alexis. I need you to stay in the house for a while.”
“Plato, will you please tell me what’s going on?”
I sighed. “Just do this for me, okay?”
Alexis didn’t respond.
“Promise me.”
“Fine,” she said after a few seconds.
“Thanks. I have to go now. I’ll be in touch.”
Alexis drew breath to speak. I ended the call before she could get a word out.
43
I was in my office, about to leave for lunch, when Bellanca Stone poked her head through the door. “Hi, Plato. Do you have a minute?”
A thrill of excitement arose in my stomach. The memory of our last meeting flashed in my mind.
“Sure,” I said.
Bellanca stepped inside, wearing a red tank top and dark-gray trousers. Her hair was pulled back into a curly ponytail. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, just lip gloss and eyeliner. The casual look somehow made her even more attractive.
“Sorry for showing up unexpected.” She sat down in the chair across from my desk.
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her face reddened. “I want to apologize for what happened back at my place. I let my emotions get the better of me.”
“No apologies necessary. What can I do for you?”
“I came to talk about Collin.”
“Is he giving you any trouble?”
Bellanca shook her head. “No, I’m just concerned about him.”
“Why’s that?”
“The other day he left a weird message on my phone.” Bellanca reached into her purse and took out her cell phone. She played the message on speaker.
Collin’s voice filled the office, high and frantic. “Bellanca, when you get this message, call me immediately. I-I’m in trouble. Kind of. I just . . . I just need someone to talk to. Please don’t call the police. J-just, ah—I don’t know what I’m saying. Never mind. Forget I called. Bye.”
The message ended.
Bellanca placed the phone on my desk.
“Did you call him back?” I asked.
“I tried, but he wouldn’t pick up.”
“Maybe this is some elaborate scheme to get back in your good graces?”
“I don’t think so.”
I considered telling her that Collin had recently threatened me. But I quickly reconsidered. Bellanca was already over-stressed. I didn’t want to make things worse.
“What kind of trouble do you think he’s in?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but I was hoping you could find out.”
I steepled my fingers. “I want to help you, Bellanca. I really do, but my plate is kind of full right now.”
Bellanca leaned forward in her chair, her expression hopeful. “Please, Mr. Jones.”
I knew I should’ve refused. I should’ve stuck to my guns—told her that I had more important things to do than to hunt down her idiot husband. But looking into those pretty brown eyes, I found it impossible to say no.
“Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll keep an eye out for him, no charge.”
Bellanca’s face brightened. “You will?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know what to say other than thank you,” she said, looking like she wanted to reach across the desk and hug me. I wouldn’t have complained.
44
Herc and I were eating at Mino’s—a bar and grill on the boardwalk. An assortment of sports memorabilia adorned the wood-paneled walls. Baseball games played on each of the restaurant’s six flat-screen TVs. Most of the lunch crowd had already eaten and gone back to work. The only people left were a few construction workers and an older couple. They all seemed too busy with their own conversations to notice what Herc and I were talking about.
Herc almost choked. “You interrogated Hades?”
He was having an Italian beef sandwich heaped with hot giardiniera. The smell made me wish I had gotten one for myself instead of settling on the bacon club.
“Yep,” I said.
“And you’re still alive?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Herc shook his head, grinning. “You’re either the bravest man I’ve ever met, or the dumbest.”
“Maybe I’m both.”
“Did you learn anything?”
“Other than the fact that your uncle’s a deranged lunatic?”
Herc chuckled and bit into his sandwich. Au jus dribbled down the front of his white button-up.
“Damn it!” He scowled down at the shirt. “This shirt cost twelve credits.”
“Big spender.”
“Shut up.” Herc grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and blotted the meat juice.
“Hera tried to have me killed again,” I said.
“Again?”
I nodded. “She and Hades forced me to fight for my life in an underground arena.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Afraid not,” I said, scraping the excess mayo off my sandwich with a plastic knife.
“Did you find out why she’s after you? Is it because you’re friends with me?”
“No. She thinks I’ll compromise the investigation. That’s what Hades said anyway.”
“Sounds fishy.”
“I thought so too.”
Herc finished cleaning his shirt. He balled up the napkin and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed in the trash can near the exit. Show-off.
“You think she and Hades might be in cahoots?” he asked.
“It’s possible. I don’t think either one of them would cry over my grave. Hades has always been obsessed with death. And Hera once threw Hephaestus off Mount Olympus just because she thought he was ugly.”
“Not a very motherly thing to do.”
“Not at all.”
Herc took another bite of his sandwich. “Does my dad know about this?” he asked, his mouth full.
“I don’t think so.”
“You gonna tell him?”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you crazy? Hera will skin me alive.”
Herc laughed. “You’re probably right about that.”
“Besides, Hera shouldn’t be a problem anymore. Emphasis on shouldn’t.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She and Hades had a little wager going on. She promised Hades that she’d leave me alone, provided I survived the arena. Let’s hope she keeps her word.”
Herc covered his mouth to burp. “What’re you going to do next?”
“I still need to speak with Dionysus. He’s been missing since the time of Eileithyia’s murder. No one seems to know where he is.”
“That’s pretty suspicious.”
“No kidding.”
“How’ll you find him?” Herc asked.
“I’m hoping he’ll eventually show up.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
I bit into my sandwich. Despite the soggy tomatoes and overcooked bacon, it still tasted good. I waited until I had swallowed before answering, unlike a certain Demigod.
“Then I’ll have to keep asking around,” I said.
45
After lunch, I swung by my office. Hermes’s information was still on my desk. A stack of documents sat next to it—alibi letters from Hades’s personal staff and from the construction workers who built his indoor arena. Som
e were typed, others handwritten. I read each of them, all the while taking notes on my laptop. Then I cross-referenced the information, looking for inconsistencies. The stories were all consistent. I wasn’t surprised. Hades as the killer would have been too obvious.
I still didn’t rule out the possibility that the statements were false. Hades was the God of the Underworld. He could easily have coerced his workers into giving false information. To be safe, I called each one of his alibis. They all seemed legit.
It was just as well though. I needed to keep moving forward.
With Hades out of the way, I had two suspects left. Hera’s ugly history with Hephaestus made her a person of interest. The idea of a direct confrontation with her scared me half to death. She had already tried to kill me multiple times. And though she had lost the bet with Hades, I had doubts she would keep her promise to leave me alone. If I was going to question her, I’d have to come up with a plan.
In the meantime, I still had Dionysus to deal with. Finding him wouldn’t be easy. But I knew someone who might be able to help.
As I stood and stretched my arms, my cell phone rang. It was Jackass.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Just checking your progress,” Hermes said.
“The case is coming along fine.”
“Good to hear.”
“I don’t appreciate your goons stalking Alexis.”
“Just think of it as an incentive,” Hermes said. “To keep you on your toes.”
“Tell them to back off.”
“And what if I don’t?”
I opened my mouth to answer but no words came out.
“You’re in no position to make demands, Mr. Jones,” Hermes said coolly. “You want us out of your life? Then give us some results.”
“I’m working as fast as I can.”
“Work faster.”
“How can I? With all these damn games of yours?” I yelled into the phone.
Hermes didn’t respond. He had hung up.
“Son of a bitch!” I shouted, and knocked over the chair in front of my desk.
46
I woke up early the next morning. I was still pissed at Hermes, but I knew better than to let anger interfere with my work. Anger leads to mistakes. And mistakes lead to people dying.
I started the day with a long, hot shower. Then I got dressed. I had just pulled on my jeans when I heard a knock at the door. I looked through the peephole and saw Chrysus standing out in the hallway.
I yanked the door open. “Hi.”
Chrysus’s eyes trailed down before snapping back up. Abruptly, I realized I wasn’t wearing a shirt. I wondered if she was looking at my abs or the black and blue bruises painted across my torso.
She wore a white blouse and a black pencil skirt. The first few buttons of her shirt were undone, showing off some nice cleavage. Her blond hair was in a bun, and she held a large metal briefcase.
She smiled politely. “Good morning, Mr. Jones.”
She had a gorgeous smile and beautifully shaped lips. She cleared her throat and said, “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” I realized I’d been staring at her lips.
I blinked. “Yes, of course. Come in.”
She moved past me through the doorway. Her perfume smelled delicious, like citrus and honeysuckle.
I gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” Chrysus put the briefcase on the coffee table and sat down. She crossed her legs. Her fair skin gleamed in the morning light.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
“That would be nice.”
I grabbed Chrysus a bottle of water from the fridge and sat down across from her on the loveseat. I noticed her briefcase had a handprint scanner built into its exterior.
“Is that the Aegis?” I asked.
“It is.” Chrysus placed her hand on the scanner.
It glowed with an intense green light. With a beeping sound, the case popped open to reveal a sleeveless gold breastplate. A gorgon’s face was inscribed on the metal. Its eyes were made of emeralds.
Chrysus picked up the Aegis as though it were a newborn baby and passed it to me. It was lighter than it looked, almost insubstantial. Soft fur lined the inside. Magical or not, it was a beautiful piece of workmanship.
“You say this thing will make me invulnerable?” I asked.
“So long as you’re wearing it.”
“A little piece of immortality.”
Chrysus smiled. She took a data pad and stylus out of her purse and handed them to me. “I need your signature, to confirm that you received the Aegis.”
“Sure.” I signed next to the X and returned the pad and stylus to her.
“Thank you.” Chrysus put the items back in her purse. She stood and grabbed the briefcase.
“Leaving already?”
“I’m afraid so.”
I set the Aegis on the coffee table and walked her to the door. “It was nice seeing you again. And thanks for the Aegis. I’m sure it’ll come in handy.”
“I hope you don’t have to use it,” Chrysus said as she stepped out into the hall.
An idea came to me as I watched her move toward the elevator. Maybe I didn’t have to confront Hera about the murders after all. Chrysus could give me the information I needed. Her job put her in frequent contact with the First Family. She must have overheard something.
I ran after her. “Chrysus.”
She stopped and turned around. “Yes, Mr. Jones?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Certainly.”
“Are you free on Saturday night?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.”
Chrysus’s eyes widened. “Dinner?”
“We could have drinks instead.”
She let out a nervous giggle. “Mr. Jones, are you asking me out on a date?”
“Only if you say yes.” I smiled, and hoped it made me look appealing.
Chrysus tilted her chin slightly. “And if I refuse?”
I shrugged. “We’ll say I had a temporary lapse in sanity, and forget this ever happened.”
Chrysus laughed again. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Jones, but why me?”
“You intrigue me.”
“I intrigue you?”
“Yes, as cheesy as that sounds. I want to learn more about you. I want to know what’s behind the glasses, what’s under the fancy skirt suits.” I paused. “Okay, that came out wrong.”
Chrysus shook her head, smiling.
“Let me start over,” I said. “What I’m trying to say is this. I think you’re very attractive and very intelligent, and it would be my pleasure to take you out Saturday night, if you’re not busy of course.”
Chrysus looked at me for a long moment before speaking. “All right, Mr. Jones. One date seems harmless enough.”
I grinned like an idiot. “Great. You won’t regret it. And call me Plato.”
47
That evening I continued my search for Dionysus. He wasn’t at his penthouse, and the employees at Elysium still hadn’t heard from him.
With Alexis’s life at stake, I no longer had the luxury of waiting for him to show up. I needed to locate him. That’s where my old pal Argus came into the picture. An ex-mob enforcer turned OBI informant, he had a talent for finding people who didn’t want to be found.
Argus owned a bar called Chimera’s Crossing. It was in the historic district of downtown, crammed between a barbershop and a party supply store. The red-brick building had been painted over several times. Splashes of white, tan, and gray covered some portions of the brick. Neon beer signs glowed in the tinted windows.
Inside, the place was dark, dirty, and
claustrophobic. A typical hole in the wall. The floors were concrete, the walls maroon, and stained glass lanterns hung over tables that were pressed airlessly together. The smell of stale beer mingled with harsh cigarette smoke.
Two old men in flannel shirts and suspenders sat at a table near the window, threatening to knock each other’s block off. I recognized a baseball argument when I saw one.
Clad in a short-sleeve tan shirt and faded jeans, Argus was wiping down the bar with a dingy towel. A black apron tied around his waist had the bar’s name stitched onto it in yellow thread.
Argus was a giant. Literally. He stood over ten feet tall, with a bald head, beefy arms, and a round belly. A hundred tiny, yellow eyes were packed into the middle of his face, each one independently mobile.
Given that most giants grew in excess of twenty feet tall, Argus was on the small side. But it wasn’t unusual for a full-grown adult to have spontaneous growth spurts every now and then, so there was no telling how big he’d end up being.
I slid onto the barstool in front of him. He stopped cleaning, threw the towel onto his shoulder, and gave a half-smile.
“Well, look at what the wind just blew in.” His voice was deep and thick.
“Argus,” I said with a nod.
“What can I get you, Plato?”
“Scotch on the rocks.”
He grabbed a glass from under the bar with his forefinger and thumb, filled it with ice and scotch, and slid it to me. As far as city-dwelling giants went, Argus and his family were the only ones I’d ever met. Because of their size, giants often have trouble getting around. And there aren’t many places that cater to them. They tend to live in the country, where there are plenty of wide open spaces.
“Thanks.” I sipped my drink. It burned all the way down. The harshness made me long for the vintage scotch I’d sampled at Hermes’s office.
“No problem.” Argus grabbed the towel off of his shoulder and resumed cleaning the bar.
I got straight to the point. “I need help.”
“I’ve been telling you that for years.”
“Very funny.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
Murder on Olympus Page 17