Harlan Coben - Live Wire

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#1 New York Times bestselling author Harlan Coben proves once again that "nobody writes them better"* in a thriller that asks a provocative question:
Is a pretty lie better than the ugly truth?
Harlan Coben published his first Myron Bolitar thriller, Deal Breaker, in 1995, introducing a hero that would captivate millions. Over the years we have watched Myron walk a tight rope between sports agent, friend, problem solver and private eye, his big heart quick to defend his client's interests so fiercely that he can't help but jump in to save them, no matter the cost.
When former tennis star Suzze T and her rock star husband, Lex, encounter an anonymous Facebook post questioning the paternity of their unborn child, Lex runs off, and Suzze – at eight months pregnant – asks Myron to save her marriage, and perhaps her husband's life. But when he finds Lex, he also finds someone he wasn't looking for: his sister-in-law, Kitty, who along with Myron's brother abandoned the Bolitar family long ago.
As Myron races to locate his missing brother while their father clings to life, he must face the lies that led to the estrangement – including the ones told by Myron himself. If we thought we knew Myron Bolitar, Coben now proves we didn't. An electric, stay-up-all night thriller that unfolds at a breakneck pace, Live Wire proves that Harlan Coben still has the ability to shock us anew.

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There had been a time when the rock gods partied with the tennis starlets. Myron had been there for part of it, fresh out of law school and seeking clients for his start-up agency. So had his younger brother, Brad, enjoying the summer before his freshman year of college by “interning” for his big bro. That summer had started off with such promise. It ended with the love of his life breaking his heart-and Brad gone from his life for good.

“I remember,” Myron said.

“So anyway I figured that Kitty just wanted to say hi. For old times’ sake. I always felt bad for her, you know, the whole career gone up in flames like that. I guess I was curious too. It’s been, what, fifteen years since she quit.”

“Something like that.”

“So Kitty meets up with us at the nightclub, and right away I know something isn’t right.”

“In what way?”

“She has a bad case of the shakes. Her eyes are glazed, and man, I know strung out when I see it. I stopped using a long time ago. Suzze and me, we went through that war already. Kitty, no offense, but she was still using. She hadn’t come to me to say hello. She came to me to score. When I told her I wasn’t into that scene, she asked for money. I told her no on that too. So she moved on.”

“Moved on?”

“Yep.”

“What do you mean, moved on?”

“What part is hard to understand, man? It’s a simple equation. Kitty is a junkie-and we wouldn’t give her a fix. Ergo, she hooked up with someone who could, uh, help her out.”

Myron held up the photo of Ponytail. “This guy?”

“I guess.”

“And then what?”

“Then nothing.”

“You said Kitty was an old friend.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So you didn’t think to try to help her?”

“Help her how?” Lex said, turning his palms to the sky. “Like, organize an intervention right there in the nightclub? Like, drag her by force to rehab?”

Myron said nothing.

“You don’t know junkies.”

“I remember when you were one,” Myron said. “I remember when you and Gabriel were throwing all your cash at blow and blackjack.”

“Blow and blackjack. I like that.” Lex smiled. “So how come you never helped us out?”

“Maybe I should have.”

“Nah, you couldn’t have helped. A man has to find his own way.”

Myron wondered about that. He wondered about Alista Snow, whether earlier intervention with Gabriel Wire could have helped her out. He almost said that, but what would be the point?

“You keep wanting to fix things,” Lex said, “but the world has a certain ebb and flow. You screw with it, you just make it worse. It isn’t always your fight, Myron. Do you mind if I give you a quick example from, well, from your past?”

“I guess not,” Myron said, regretting the words the moment they passed his lips.

“When I first met you all those years ago, you had a serious girlfriend, right? Jessica something. The writer.”

The regret started taking shape and expanding.

“And something bad happened between you. I don’t know what. Here you were, what, twenty-four, twenty-five years old?”

“What’s your point, Lex?”

“I was a huge basketball fan, so I knew your whole story. First-round draft pick of the Boston Celtics. Supposed to be the next big superstar, all the planets aligned, and then, bam, you wreck your knee in a preseason game. Career over, just like that.”

Myron made a face. “Uh, your point?”

“Just listen a second, okay? So you go to Harvard Law and then you come down to Nick’s tennis camp to recruit these tennis players. You had no chance against the big guys like IMG and TruPro. I mean, who are you? You’re barely out of school. But you land Kitty, the top prospect, and then when she quits the game, you get Suzze. You know how you did that?”

“I really don’t see the relevance.”

“Just stay with me a moment. Do you know how?”

“I made a good pitch, I guess.”

“No. You landed them the same way you landed me when I heard you were branching out of sports. There’s a decency to you, Myron. A person senses it right away. Yeah, you give good meeting and let’s face it, having Win as your financial guy gives you a big head start. But what separates you is that we know you care. We know you’d rescue us if we were in trouble. We know you’d rather lose a limb than steal a nickel from us.”

“With all due respect,” Myron said, “I still don’t see your point.”

“So when Suzze calls you because we’ve had a tiff, you come running. That’s your job. You’re hired to do that. But unless a person is hired, well, I have a different philosophy: Things ripple.”

“Wow, can I jot that down?” Myron faked taking out a pen and scribbling. “Things… ripple. Great, got it.”

“Stop being a wiseass. What I’m saying is, people shouldn’t butt in, even with the best of intentions. It’s dangerous and an invasion. When you and Jessica had your big problem, would you have wanted all of us to try to butt in and help?”

Myron gave him the flat eyes. “Did you just compare my problems with a girlfriend to you going missing when your wife is pregnant?”

“Just in this way: It is foolhardy and frankly egomaniacal to think you have that kind of power. What’s going on with me and Suzze-that isn’t your business anymore. You have to respect that.”

“Now that I found you and know you’re safe, I do respect that.”

“Good. And unless your brother or sister-in-law asked for your help, well, you’re meddling in a matter of the heart. And the heart is like a war zone. Like us going overseas to Iraq or Afghanistan. You think you’re being heroic and saving stuff, but really you’re just making it worse.”

Myron gave him the flat eyes again. “Did you just compare my concern for my sister-in-law to overseas wars?”

“Like the US of A, you’re meddling. Life is like a river and when you change its course, you’re responsible for where it goes.”

A river. Sigh. “Please stop.”

He smiled and rose. “I better go.”

“So you have no idea where Kitty is?”

He sighed. “You didn’t listen to a word I said.”

“No, I listened,” Myron said. “But sometimes people are in trouble. Sometimes they need saving. And sometimes people who need help don’t have the courage to ask for it.”

Lex nodded. “Must be godlike,” he said, “to know when that is.”

“I don’t always make the right call.”

“No one does. Why it’s best to leave it alone. But I will tell you this much if it helps. Kitty said she was leaving in the morning. Going back to Chile or Peru or somewhere like that. So my guess is, if you want to help, you may be a little late to the party.”

11

Lex is fine,” Myron said.

Suzze and Lex owned a penthouse in a high-rise along the Hudson River in Jersey City, New Jersey. The penthouse took up the entire top floor and had more square feet than your average Home Depot. Despite the hour-it was midnight by the time he got back from Adiona Island-Suzze was dressed and waiting for him on the enormous terrace. The terrace was waaay over the top, what with those Cleopatra sofas and plush chairs and Greek statues and French gargoyles and Roman arches, especially when all you needed-indeed all you saw anyway-was the killer view of the Manhattan skyline.

Myron had wanted to go straight home. There was really nothing more to discuss now that they knew Lex was safe, but on the phone Suzze had seemed oddly needy. With some clients, coddling came with the territory. With Suzze, that had never been the case.

“Tell me what Lex said.”

“He’s with Gabriel recording some songs for their next album.”

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