Read Online Shell Game by Jeff Buick - Free Book Online

this happen?”
    Alan swallowed. “Gus has been talking about retiring for about a year now. He decided that this was as good a time as any.”
    â€œBut the timing . . .”
    â€œHe apologized. He feels really bad about it, but if he doesn’t shut operations down now while we’re between jobs and he takes on another big contract, it could be a couple of years before the opportunity comes up again. He wanted to come and talk to you personally, but I told him it was okay.”
    She nodded but didn’t say anything.
    â€œHe paid me out for the rest of September and cut a severance check as well.”
    â€œHow much?” she asked, not believing she actually said that.
    â€œFifty thousand.”
    â€œThat was nice of him.”
    â€œIt’ll help.”
    She looked out the window again. “There’s a showing this evening. The Realtor says the people who are interested are serious buyers. They’ve looked at a few houses in the area, but he thinks this could be the one. If the house has to sell, let’s hope nice people buy it.” She forced an upbeat tone into her voice. “It’s a wonderful house, Alan.”
    He held her as she cried, feeling her body tremble. She was a strong woman, but even strong people had their limits. She had worked so hard for so many years to build G-cubed, and then to lose it overnight had been devastating. The house was equally as stressful. He knew Taylor was a nester, not a wanderer. She needed roots, and without that anchor she was a lost soul.
    For ten minutes they sat silently on the window bench, just holding each other. Finally, she said, “I’m going to lie down for a while.”
    â€œOkay.” He kissed her forehead.
    Taylor forced herself to walk down the center of the swaying hallway. Her equilibrium had been getting worse in the last week or so, probably a combination of low blood pressure and an iron deficiency. She’d always had problems with low blood pressure and had had a few instances of light headedness, but nothing like this. The bouts were almost constant now, and she was having trouble functioning. She didn’t want to alarm Alan and had seen the doctor without telling him. Her doctor had prescribed iron supplements and told her to rest. She was trying to do as she was told, but her rebellious nature kicked in and she often missed her pills.
    She sat on the side of their bed and stared ahead. Her eyes were drawn to the night table and she opened the drawer and opened the book on Picasso to page 108. A four-by-six photograph of Alan on a street corner stared back at her. It was her favorite picture of him. Every part of him was laughing, especially his eyes. The background looked European, but she had never asked him where the photo was taken. She just loved the man in the moment. It was her private piece of him, and she cherished it. She tucked the photo back in the book and closed the drawer. At least she still had him, she thought. How bad can life really be when you have the person you love?
    Not bad, she decided as she slipped under the covers. She was asleep in seconds.

C HAPTER N INE
    A light rain had settled in, and the lower mainland was awash in clouds and mist. It was beautiful but depressing, a week from the start of October and already the wet winter weather was settling in. Vancouver was like Seattle, wonderful when the clouds cleared, sunlight-deprived when they settled on the mountains surrounding the city. Edward Brand buttoned his coat against the wet cold that penetrated right into his bones. He was tired of the rain and wanted to leave. But plans were plans, not to be messed with. He was in the Canadian city for at least another week. He sipped his tea and leaned on the railing, watching the small craft navigate a misty English Bay.
    The front doorbell sounded, and Brand walked to the door and opened it. Tony Stevens was folding his umbrella as he waited under the portico.