Page 42 of Hades

“Severe heart arrhythmias.”

“Fucking heart attack,” I said. The pieces clicked together in my head. The pattern emerging from the chaos.

“A fucking heart attack,” Coeus repeated, glee oozing from his words. He was practically bouncing in his seat.

“So how did it get into his system?” Zeus asked, leaning forward now, finally paying attention. “And who would want to kill him?”

“That, I haven’t figured out yet. I also don’t know if the others had it in their systems because the bloodwork protocol doesn’t look for poisons.”

“What the fuck do they look for?” I asked.

“Alcohol, drugs, medications, genetic factors, metabolic changes.”

I held my hand up to stop his list of shit I didn’t understand, nor did I care to. “You’d think they’d look for this when someone so young dies of a fucking heart attack.”

“Horses, not zebras,” he said.

Zeus and I looked at each other, then at Coeus. “What the fuck?” I asked.

“It’s what they teach in medical school. When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Zeus asked, his patience wearing thin. The confusion on his face would have been funny if the situation wasn’t so goddamn serious.

Coeus blew out a frustrated breath. “It means horses are more common. When you’re in your house and hear hoofbeats, you’re not going to look outside and see a zebra.”

I stared at the kid. He was one of the younger officers. Smart as hell, but he didn’t make any fucking sense most of the time. His brain worked in ways mine didn’t, connecting dots I couldn’t even see.

“Explain,” Zeus growled, growing more impatient by the minute. The tension in his shoulders screamed violence.

“It means the most likely scenario is the one you’ll find, so don’t waste time looking for something else.”

“No wonder our medical system is so fucked up. Doctors don’t want to take the time to find out what’s really wrong with someone if they can fit the symptoms inside a neat little box and wrap it up with a pretty fucking bow.”

And it wasn’t just the medical system. The cops didn’t investigate shit anymore, either. They found the person they wanted to pin the crime on and made sure the evidence pointed to him. If something showed up that debunked their theory, they simply threw it away or buried it. Convenient. Efficient. Corrupt as fuck.

All they cared about was putting someone behind bars. Didn’t matter if they were actually guilty as long as they looked good and closed the case. As long as the numbers added up and the public felt safe.

“Okay, so we know Harlen was murdered,” I started.

“Do we?” Zeus asked.

I stared at my best friend. This shit with Reggie and his son, Gus, had him distracted as hell. His brain was somewhere else entirely.

“You think he ate that shit on his own?” I asked.

“Who the hell knows? The guy was a fucking idiot.”

“Touché,” I said with a grin, because Zeus was right. Harlan Troy was a fucking moron. The kind of stupid that made you wonder how he’d survived as long as he did. “So assuming he didn’t eat that shit himself, who would want to kill him?”

“The wife,” Coeus announced.

“Suzanne?” Zeus said. The question in his tone mirrored my own thoughts. Suzanne Troy was harmless. She was a sweet woman, quiet and mousy. How that son of a bitch convinced her to marry him was anyone’s guess.

“It’s always the spouse.” Coeus shrugged.

“It’s always the husband,” Zeus corrected.

“Not a fucking chance. What motive would she have?” I asked.