So Cold the River (2010) by Michael Koryta Read Free Book Online Page A

than the building below. This idea in 1901.
    There were ten thousand square feet of glass in the dome alone. More glass than in any other building in the world at the
     time of its construction, more even than London’s Crystal Palace. It was one thing to read details like that on the Internet,
     another to see it. One of the stories Eric had found said that when they removed the supports beneath the dome, many spectators,
     including Sinclair, weren’t certain the thing would avoid collapse. In response, Albright insisted on climbing to the roof
     and standing dead center on top of the dome when they removed the last of the scaffolding. He’d been sure of his math, even
     if nobody else was.
    The atrium stretched out beneath the dome, shining floor and ornate rugs and potted ferns, lots of gold trim on the perimeter.
     They’d redone the tile—twelve
million
marble mosaics were hand-laid in the original floor—and matched the paint to the original color, matched the rugs, matched
     damn near everything that could be matched. Eric had seen impressive renovations but nothing with such attention to detail.
    Some of the rooms had balconies that looked out over the atrium, and he hoped Alyssa Bradford had come through with one of
     those for him. He wanted to sit out there at night and have a drink and watch the place quiet down.
Probably see ghosts,
he thought, and smiled.
    The hotel had that kind of feel, though. It started with that misplaced quality, floating out here in the middle of nowhere,and then built on the astonishing design and a restoration job so carefully and perfectly completed that entering the building
     was like walking out of one century and into another.
    He took a few steps away from his luggage, more into the center of the room, and then tilted his head back to look directly
     up at the dome. When he did that, the headache that had been momentarily forgotten bloomed bright behind his eyes, a swift,
     jagged pain. He winced and dropped his eyes, shaded them with his hand. Bad idea, looking up into the light like that. Light
     always exacerbated a headache.
    He returned to his bags and brought them to the reception desk and checked in. Took the keycard for his room—418—and then
     went up and got the luggage stowed. The room was a reflection of everything else—ornate, luxurious, reminiscent of times gone
     by. And it had the balcony. Alyssa Bradford had done well.
    He was distracted from enjoying the room, though, because the headache was getting to him now. He opened the suitcase and
     took out the Excedrin, shook three tablets into his palm, and went into the bathroom and poured a glass of water and washed
     them down.
    That should help. A drink didn’t sound like a bad idea either. He wanted to sit down at the bar under the dome and sip one
     slow. Give the Excedrin a little while to work, and then he’d come back up and get the camera and start the job.
    Josiah Bradford had hardly gotten his cigarette lit before Amos came boiling around the corner, telling him to put it out.
     Had one tantalizing puff and then he was smashing it under his foot and Amos was bitching at him.
    “How many times I got to tell you, we don’t smoke on the job, Josiah. You think I want the guests to come outside to enjoy
     theday and have to breathe in the cigarette smoke from my landscaping crew? I swear, son, you get told and told again and it
     don’t mean a thing to you.”
    Josiah bit down his response, shoved past Amos’s wide paunch and threw the cigarette into the trash, and took his weed eater
     and fired it up with a theatrical flourish, pumping the throttle trigger with his index finger to turn the thing’s whine into
     a scream and drown out Amos’s voice. Shit, it was a cigarette, not an atom bomb. Amos needed to get his ass some perspective.
    Josiah went off down the brick road, trimming edges that didn’t need trimmed, keeping his back to Amos until he heard the
     Gator come to life and drive