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

the leaning chain-link fence had outlasted the concrete. The stinking brown creek, marred by oil runoff, carried away the dregs of growth. Here and there between the buildings, a honey locust made a reach for the sky, bristling with thorns and defiance.
    Smalley shifted gears and turned up the hill onto a private drive. A wooden sign with a fieldstone base heralded “Ivy Terrace.” The sign was landscaped, ringed with pine straw and non-native pansies. Nestled among the hardwood trees on the ridge were the apartments that Jacob had helped develop. More of his false ego, a mock testament to the ephemeral nature of ambition.
    And behind one of those doors was Renee. Another mock testament.
    “Stop,” Jacob said.
    Smalley glanced at him and eased in the clutch. When the truck slowed, Jacob pushed open the passenger door and eased to the ground. He reached in and pulled the bottle of liquor from its hiding place.
    “A small blessing,” Jacob said.
    “Don’t blame you none. Give me a holler if you got any work for me.”
    “I’ll do that, Chick.”
    “I’ll be praying for you.”
    “It can’t hurt none.”
    Nothing could hurt, not anymore. Smalley turned the truck around and headed back toward town. Jacob tucked the bottle inside his coat and headed for the shrubs that had been part of a landscaping scheme he had once designed, never realizing until now the type of concealment it provided. He found a gap in the rhododendrons and crawled among the twisted branches. The space had been used before. Empty beer bottles, a condom wrapper, a mottled, crushed French fries container, and a sprinkling of cigarette butts marked it as the territory of the transient. Jacob instantly felt at home.
    He twisted the metal cap from the liquor bottle and toasted the distant sky, which was barely visible through the thick, waxy leaves. “To our mutual suffering,” he said.
    The first taste was harsh and welcoming. The second was merely welcoming.

CHAPTER SIX

    Renee cradled the phone against her ear. She’d chipped her fingernail polish opening a can of Tab. Sitting in an apartment she wasn’t paying for, talking of money, made her lightheaded. Despite the wealth Jacob had accumulated early in their marriage, this money seemed unreal, almost sickening. “It’s two million dollars, Kim.”
    “Holy crud,” came her best friend’s voice from the speaker. Kim worked as a technician at the hospital, testing blood samples. The sound of hospital business occasionally came through in the background, doctors being paged, carts rattling by, the ringing of nurses’ bells.
    “That doesn’t make up for it. Not a bit.”
    “I know, honey. We’ve been through that. You don’t have any more tears left to cry.”
    “I was the beneficiary. Jacob set it up that way. After Christine died, he insured the three of us for a million dollars each. Said that’s how his father always did it.”
    “And you let him?”
    “Well, it’s the kind of thing you don’t think about much. You can’t let it weigh on you, that tragedy might strike again. I figured we’d used up more than our share with Christine.”
    “I know you guys are movers and shakers, but a million is a million, even with inflation. What are you guys going to do with the money?”
    “That’s just it. He’s hiding from all this.”
    “Forget about him for a minute. What do you want?”
    Renee looked at the urn on the mantel. She didn’t want the ashes around as a constant reminder of The Tragedy. She carried around enough reminders inside her.
    She’d hoped Jacob would pull himself together and get through his grieving process, decide with her what they should do with the ashes. It had been over two months and he still refused to have any contact with her. “I want Jake to be happy. That’s all that’s left for me, Kim.”
    “Your parents gone?”
    “Yeah, they left last week. Dad’s not doing too well. Said now he didn’t have any grandchildren to spoil. Mom helped,