Hades (Contemporary Mythos Book 1)
Hades: Chapter 17

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 resting 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.

If only I could thank Hades. He was the only reason any of this was possible. I sighed, slipping my hands into the pockets of my dress.

“We just won a cold case. Why do you look like someone pissed in your Cheerios?” Sara asked.

“No reason. I mean now, what am I going to obsess over, right?” I grinned.

She draped an arm over my shoulders. “We’re celebrating at your place tonight. I’ll bring champagne. Got some more news too.”

“Oh?”

She nodded with a huge smile. “I’ll tell you tonight.”

Later that night, I curled up on the couch with Sammy, stroking his fur. When a knock sounded on the door, I was relieved to have a distraction from my thoughts.

Thoughts about you know who.

I whipped open the door. “Thank God, you’re here.” She held two giant bottles of champagne, and I snatched one.

“Wow. Miss me that much, huh?” She smirked and closed the door behind her with a bump of her hip.

“Always,” I said, resting two flute glasses on the countertop.

Sammy jumped up, curling himself around the champagne bottle. Sara hissed at him. He gave her a disapproving stare before walking off with a flick of his tail. She took out her cell phone, scanning her thumb over the screen. I held the bottle away from me, turned my head, held my breath, and pulled on the cork. Pop. Fizzy alcohol sprouted from the bottle, and I squealed, holding it over the sink.

“So, are you going to tell me what else we’re celebrating tonight?” I asked, pouring us two glasses.

She grabbed one and rested her phone on the counter. “I found our sneaky cop accomplice.”

“Seriously? Who was it?”

“Leonardo Michaels.” She shook her head.

I blinked. Leo, the creep-o. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Because he’s a sleazeball who’s going to get what he deserves. You should’ve seen his face when we arrested him. I thought he was going to bawl.”

“Wait. Why Leo? I know he’s a perv but doesn’t explain why he’d knowingly assist a criminal. Especially a murderer.”

Sara nodded. “Valid question. I looked into all connections to Fueller and cross-referenced them with past and current employees. It turns out, Fueller and Leo lived in the same neighborhood as kids. Fueller served a year in juvie for a grand theft auto conviction.”

“Was Leo involved too?”

“Yup. Charged, but Fueller confessed to doing it himself, and Leo tried to stop him, which is the only reason he was there.”

I narrowed my eyes. “But we both know he lied for Fueller.”

“Exactly. So, when Fueller approached him about the hammer, I think Leo felt he owed him. And when I asked why he didn’t quit and leave town, know what he said?”

I raised my brow.

“He thought it’d have looked too obvious.” Sara smirked. “I’ll tell you this much, if it weren’t for me being an officer of the law, I’d have kneed him straight in the balls.”

“Should’ve let me tag along, then.” I pointed to myself. “Civilian.”

Sara laughed and held up her glass for a toast.

“To the Fueller case,” I said.

“And here’s to hopeful promotions for both of us.” She tapped her phone and Push It played.

Without bothering to set our glasses down, we danced in my kitchen. As the night wore on, we drank both bottles, danced to our song a total of thirteen times, and I didn’t think about three-headed dogs, floating smoke, or the King of Ash and Bone. It wasn’t until I went to bed with a fuzzy head from copious amounts of alcohol my mind betrayed me. I had feelings for Hades, feelings I never had the chance to voice to him. The way he looked at me, he had to feel something for me too. Lust? Admiration? Mrs. Conroy wasn’t the only one who needed closure.

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on G𝘰𝘰gle to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.