Mystery Dance: Three Novels by Scott Nicholson Read Free Book Online

make it go away. We’ve got to deal with it. You can’t crawl into your shell and pretend it never happened.”
    “Take the money. It doesn’t matter.”
    “Donald called me. He wanted to know when you’ll be ready to go back to work.”
“I’m through.” And he was. M & W Ventures, Inc., had built ten apartment complexes, a half-dozen subdivisions, three shopping centers, the country club, and a pair of chain motels. That qualified as a life’s work, didn’t it? Even for the son of Warren Wells. Maybe Donald Meekins could take the oversize prop scissors they used for ceremonial ribbon cuttings and snip the W off the corporation’s name.
    Jacob had made his mark on the world. A reputation you could take to the bank. Something you could use for collateral.
    He could lose everything, his kids, his wife, his soul, but still those buildings would stand, a testament to willpower and vision. Asphalt to pave his way to a better future. Steel bones, concrete flesh, and a blueprint for his soul. Material evidence for Judgment Day, a devil’s bargain.
    “You’re not through,” Renee said. “I won’t let you be through.”
    He wondered how much of it had been for her. Where did spousal support cross the line into need, what separated encouragement from the shrewish demand for perfection and achievement? Was it his own insecurity that drove him, or was her relentless desire for his success the whip that kept him in a lather? Was she the ventriloquist whose hand had guided him through his lockstep sleepwalk of greed?
    No. She didn’t deserve that much credit. Where he’d been, where he was going, were decisions shaped in the forge of his guts. He could blame other people, and that was fast becoming his latest survival tactic, but the justifications always rang hollow.
    In the end, it comes down to you and the stranger in the mirror .
    “Leave me,” he said.
    “It’s not going away, even if I do.”
    Jacob smiled. The movement was painful to his chapped lips. “It’s already gone.” He felt the thump on his chest from the weight of the remote control she had tossed there.
    “You and your fucking martyr act,” she said. “As if you’re the only one who has to suffer.”
    “I’ll give you the damned divorce. Anything you want. The money, the cars, the house…”
    The house. Which was nothing but a heap of charcoal in one of Kingsboro’s squarest subdivisions.
    “And the kids,” he said, his voice taking on a shrill giddiness. “You can have the kids. No arguments from me. I don’t even want visitation rights.”
    “Jakie.”
    He clenched the sheet with both hands, tried to squeeze juice from it, pressed his teeth together until his temples ached.
    “Calm down. You’re scaring me.” She moved to the head of the bed, reaching for the button that would signal the nurse’s desk.
    “You should be scared.”
    “Do you think this is any easier for me ?”
    Jacob looked at her, the green eyes made large by her lenses. He was supposed to love this woman. He knew it, something strong tugged the inside of his chest, a deep memory turned over in the grave of his sleeping heart. How could something so sure and real have turned into this? How could an eternal bond dissolve like mist exposed to the bright glare of morning?
    “I’m sorry,” he said. That stupid, useless word crawled out of his dry mouth. He couldn’t stop it. The response was automatic. He’d said that word so often in the past ten months.
    “This is impossible,” she said. She pulled her purse to her lap, opened it, took out a pair of clip-on sunglasses, and flipped the dark lenses over her eyes. Jacob was glad her eyes were gone. Now he could look at her fully.
    “There’s something else,” she said. She brought a crumpled envelope from the purse. “I guess you wanted to get in one last little twist of the knife.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    Renee fished a note from the envelope and read it. “‘Hope you liked the