Free The Third Sin by Elsa Klensch Page B

With a shaking hand she pulled the cover over the cage. Stumbling to the bed, Bella sat on the edge of it, as far away from Wade as possible.
    An hour ago she’d been at a party, drinking, dancing, and having fun in the few hours she could steal away from Wade. She rested her head against the cool rail of the brass bed and tried to think. How had Cacao been when she’d left home earlier that evening? Had she missed any signs that her husband’s companion was about to die?
    She remembered going into the library to say good-bye to Wade. Cacao, on her husband’s shoulder, squawked a nasty, “No, no, no,” at her. Wade saw that she was irritated and tried to make up for it by saying how pretty she looked. Still, the bird had unsettled Bella and she’d fled the apartment for her party, where she had succeeded in making herself feel better.
    Until she’d gotten home and discovered Cacao’s corpse. Now she would have to wake Wade and tell him that his beloved bird was gone.
    Bella kicked off her satin sandals and undid the buttons that fastened the black dress over her breasts. The garment was too tight to be truly comfortable but revealed enough of her cleavage to make her the sexiest woman at the party.
    She stood up again and padded barefoot to the nightstand, which held a few bottles and glasses. She poured herself a couple of fingers of scotch and gulped it down, hoping it would give her courage.
    Wade lay turned away from her. His face was hidden by the mask of his apnea machine, which Bella could hear clicking and whirring as usual. Somehow, Wade had learned to sleep despite the noise and the constant current of air. He was finally getting restful sleep after years of suffering. Bella wasn’t so lucky.
    Delaying the inevitable, Bella went back to her side of the bed, sat down facing away from her husband, and softly muttered, “Wade, I’m only twenty-seven and I have no life with you. You are a liar and a cheap bastard. You better fucking well sell that diamond. Wade, you fat hideous slob, I hate you and I’m glad your loud-mouthed, stinking bird is dead.”
    The quiet tirade made her feel better. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he hadn’t heard and was relieved to see him lying still.
    Suddenly she was struck by how still he was.
    She leaned over and put her hand on his chest. She could feel no movement. But the machine should have kept him breathing.
    Adrenaline surged through her, making her dizzy as she got to her feet. Steadying herself, Bella moved to Wade’s side of the bed and shook him roughly.
    â€œWade, wake up. Cacao is sick and needs you.”
    He didn’t stir.
    She bent forward and shouted, “Wade!”
    He didn’t move.
    She squatted beside him. Was he unconscious, or could he really be dead? His arm lay over the side of the bed. It felt cool as she put her fingers on his wrist to search for a pulse.
    Nothing.
    Were the rolls of fat at his wrist getting in the way, or was there nothing to feel? Bella covered her mouth, struggling against the renewed urge to vomit.
    He was dead. She was sure of it.
    What should she do first? Call the doctor? The police? Rouse the family? Or go into the spare room and try to go to sleep? There was nothing to be done for him now. Let someone else discover the body—Bella would just pretend that she’d never been in the bedroom.
    No. She could see the lead story in the tabloids. “Beautiful Bella from Brazil came home from a party and got a good night’s sleep in the next room while her husband lay dead in the marital bed.” Absolutely not.
    It would play better if she discovered him dead and phoned for help. That would be what the police would expect a loving wife to do.
    As she struggled to her feet, she touched the sticky ice cream carton he’d left on the floor after his usual nightly binge. As she usually did, she grabbed the carton, then groped around for the spoon