Festive in Death by J.D. Robb Read Online (FREE)
Originally published: September 9, 2014
Author: Nora Roberts
Preceded by: Concealed in Death
Followed by: Obsession in Death
Genres: Fiction, Romance novel, Mystery
Nominations: Goodreads Choice Awards Best Mystery & Thriller
Read Festive in Death by J.D. Robb full novel online free here.
Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle which fits them all.
—OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES
At Christmas play and make good cheer,
For Christmas comes but once a year.
Men, Sima thought, can’t live with them, can’t beat them to death with a nine iron.
But a girl could exact some revenge, and she was a girl bent on just that.
Nobody deserved a good dose of revenge—or a beating with a nine iron—as much as Trey Ziegler. The fuckball had booted her out of the apartment they’d shared, even though she had the same territorial rights to the place as he did.
In the seven and a half weeks of their unofficial cohabitation, she’d paid half the rent, half the expenses, including food and beverage. She’d done all the cleaning (lazy bastard), all the marketing. And in that seven and a half weeks had given him the best years of her life.
After considerable thought, in-depth conversations with close friends and confidants, two ten-minute sessions of meditation and six tequila shots, she’d outlined precisely how, where, and when to exact her revenge.
The how involved that nine iron, an extensive collection of cashmere socks, and itching powder. The where was that one-bedroom apartment over Little Mike’s Tattoo and Piercing Parlor in the West Village.
The when was right fucking now.
He wouldn’t have changed the locks—cheap bastard—and didn’t know she’d given a copy of her swipe to one of those friends and confidants, who also happened to be her boss, right after they’d moved in together.
And if he had changed the lock, her friend said she knew people who knew people, would tag one up, and it would be done.
Sima wasn’t sure she wanted to know the people who knew people or how they would gain access to the apartment. But she knew she wanted in.
So with her friend beside her for moral support, she pulled out her swipe key to open the main door to the apartments over the tat parlor.
Her tequila-fueled grin spread wider when the locks clicked open.
“I knew it! He’d never bother springing for the money to have me deactivated.”
“Maybe not on this door. We still have to see about the apartment.” Her friend gave her a long, hard look. “You’re abso-poso he’s not in there?”
“Totally. His supervisor sprang for the weekend seminar, been in the works for weeks. No way he’d blow it off. Free hotel room, free food, and a chance to show off for two days.”
Sima turned toward the skinny elevator, started to take off her gloves.
“We’ll walk up. Leave your gloves on, remember? No fingerprints.”