The Exhibition (An Executive Decision Trilogy) (20 page)

BOOK: The Exhibition (An Executive Decision Trilogy)
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‘I wasn’t going to tell any of you about any of it because it’s nothing to do with you.’

‘You can’t possibly be that naïve,’ Al said.

‘Al, you know I love you to bits and I respect you more than just about anyone I know, but I’m asking you to stay out of it and let me deal with it.’ She gave them all a sweeping look. ‘I’m asking you to all stay out of it. I got myself into this situation and I’ll get myself out. Like I did last time.’

‘And last time nearly killed you.’ Al’s voice was little more than an angry snarl.

Chaos enveloped the room once more, but it was Harris’ voice above the din that silenced everyone. It wasn’t loud, but it was heavily weighted with a conviction that took her breath away. ‘I’m not staying out of this and I’m not leaving, Stacie. Get used to it.’

‘Do you think he’ll stop at hurting Ingrid? Do you think he’ll leave any of you alone now? You read her email, Harris. She emailed because she was afraid for you. She believed Jamison would hurt you.’

‘He can try,’ Harris said, and the room erupted again.

This time it was Wade’s quiet voice that cut through everything. Wade always wielded that sort of unpretentious power. ‘I don’t believe you. I don’t believe any of this, Stacie. I think you’re lying. I just don’t know why.’

She straightened in her seat and forced herself to remain calm. The one thing she really didn’t need was Wade snooping around. ‘It doesn’t matter what you believe, Wade. I was weak. I gave in to him. You all know how persuasive he can be. I didn’t want any of you to know about my money problems. I figured it would all be over once the exhibition ended and I could pay him back. I can endure anything for a little while, and it’ll only be for a little while. I promise.’

‘I don’t believe that and neither do you,’ Ellis said. ‘Let me take on the debt. You know that I can.’

‘You’ve got your hands full with the Valderian situation,’ she reminded him. ‘And even if you didn’t, you know he wouldn’t let that happen. And that would just give him something else to hold over you. I don’t want him having anything to hold over any of you.’

‘Then, Stacie, I want to know what you need from me.’ Martin Flannery spoke for the first time since he had informed everyone about the hospital situation. His words were tightly controlled and the anger in his voice was barely hidden. When everyone turned their attention to him, he tugged at his tie and, still holding Stacie’s gaze, he continued, ‘I have a daughter like Mr. Watson does, like Mr. and Mrs. Emerson do, and I would gut anyone with a dull pocket knife who touched a single hair on Carla’s head.’

For a long moment, Stacie held his gaze, then she let out a slow breath. ‘I need you to finish what you started, and I need you to keep the people I care about safe until this is over.’

He nodded.

‘I can’t pay you.’

His jaw tightened and he tugged his tie again. ‘You’ve already paid in full for the security system. Was that money from Jamison?’

‘No. That money was mine. And when this is over, I’ll pay you for the rest.’ She shot Al a glance that she hoped he would understand was appreciation of his help and friendship. ‘I always pay my debts.’

‘Stacie.’ Ellis spoke again. His grip on Dee’s hand was tight and his eyes flashed fire. ‘You have to do what you have to do, but you need to know you’re not alone this time and we, none of us, are prepared to sit back and do nothing if … if he tries to hurt you. If that happens, all bets are off.’

She swallowed back the emotions that threatened her control, once again aware of Harris’ hand holding hers. ‘All I ask is that you let me get on with it. I’ll pay him back. I promise you that. I’ll pay him back.’ The last words felt like bile rising in her throat.

‘Then, I’ll reiterate Martin’s question,’ Ellis said. ‘What do you want us to do?’ Everyone in the room nodded and all eyes were on her again.

She felt as if exhaustion reached up and grabbed at her heart and squeezed. ‘I need …’ Tears threatened, but she forced them back. ‘I need to make sure Ingrid and her father are safe.’

All eyes were again on Flannery, who was typing something onto his BlackBerry. He spoke without looking up. ‘Ingrid has just been returned to her room at the Monaco, accompanied by Jamison’s personal physician. Her father’s fine and thinks his daughter is having a great time in Portland.’ He glanced up at everyone. ‘He’s likely to stay that way as long as Ingrid cooperates.’

‘There has to be a way,’ Stacie said. ‘It’s all my fault that she’s in this horrible mess.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Al said. ‘It’s that bastard, Jamison’s fault, and don’t you forget it, missy! You tried to get her away from him in New York. You tried to get her to come with the rest of the artists. I was there, so don’t give me that all my fault bullshit.’

‘She’s pretty safe for the moment,’ Flannery said. ‘If experience is any indicator, Jamison will treat her like royalty until she’s recovered. He’ll be gentle and loving and the epitome of kindness. He’ll act like he’s so sorry for what he’s done; even make her think that once she’s healed, she’s free to go with no strings attached. That’ll make the jerking her back all the more devastating, to her and to you.’ He offered Stacie an apologetic smile. ‘But for now, she’s as safe as she can be. That gives us time to make a plan.’

Harris slipped an arm around Stacie’s shoulders. ‘Then if there’s nothing else we can do right now, I’m taking Stacie back to my place for the night. I don’t want her by herself.’

She bristled, but before she could say anything there was a nod of agreement around the room and Flannery was back on his BlackBerry. ‘My men’ll be there to make sure you two stay safe.’ He leveled a look at Harris. ‘They’ll check out your house before you go in.’

‘I figured as much,’ Harris said. As he stood and helped her to her feet, it was all she could do to keep her mouth shut. It was all she could do to just leave it like this. She knew Jamison would muddy the water. She knew he’d never let it be easy. But she had gone too far down the path to undo what had been done. She nodded her meek thanks to everyone, feeling like Typhoid Mary, once again bringing suffering to those she cared about. Then Harris led her downstairs and outside into waning sunshine that she barely noticed as he helped her into the Jeep for the ride to his place.

During the drive to his house, Stacie said nothing, just sat staring out the window. He didn’t attempt to make conversation. All the anger he had felt, all the upset for all that she hadn’t told him and for all that he was sure she still wasn’t telling him, had been replaced by the feeling that she had been somehow violated by the confrontation at Ellis’. There were parts of his own life he would never want dragged out for the world to see, and all of his dark secrets paled in comparison to what Stacie had experienced, and to the humiliation dredging it all up again must have put her though.

He had gone where he wasn’t invited. He had seen what should have been hers to share at the right time, when she was ready, at a time when she trusted him more fully. That had never been his intention, and yet he felt as though he had run roughshod over her privacy. Well, so be it, damn it! If that’s what it took to keep her safe, then so be it. Yet none of what she had said made sense. None of it rang true. His gut told him that, even as poor Ingrid Watson was proof of what Stacie had said. And yet it made no sense.

When they pulled into the drive next to his cabin, she only sat there as he turned off the engine. He went around the Jeep and helped her out, then led her upstairs where she stood looking listlessly out the big picture window over the lake. Then he had an idea.

‘I’m hungry. You must be too. When was the last time you ate?’ He saw her half-attempt at a shrug as he began to rattle around in the kitchen. ‘I don’t cook,’ he told her. ‘I ate the last of my mom’s tomato soup last night, and we’re too far from any place that delivers.’ He opened the freezer and peered inside. ‘I’ve got frozen pizza, couple of lasagna ready meals. Some fish sticks – oh, and a package of Tater Tots.’ He turned to find her standing next to him, just as he’d hoped.

‘How old are these eggs?’ she asked, inspecting the pathetic contents of his refrigerator.

‘Oh, they’re fresh. Eggs, bacon, toast; that sort of thing I can cook. In fact, it’s a staple.’

‘Boring too,’ she said. ‘Don’t suppose you have any flour?

‘There might be some in the pantry,’ he said. ‘Back from when Kendra and Dee decided to surprise me with a homemade birthday cake.’

‘And how was it?’ She pulled the flour from the pantry.

‘The surprise was great,’ he said. ‘The cake, not so much. We ended up at Dairy Queen eating banana splits instead.’

‘That’s not so bad then, as far as birthdays go.’ She dug around until she found a bowl that would pass for mixing and the pan he used for eggs.

‘It was a great birthday, actually. My birthday’s in November. It’s usually not warm, but it was then. We went canoeing. Had a picnic. Watched the sun set over the lake.’

‘I like your friends,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘Even if they can’t bake a cake.’ Then she added. ‘Do you like pancakes?’

‘Hell yes, I like pancakes. Pretty much I like anything I don’t have to cook.’

She laughed softly, and the sound of it made him happier than he’d have thought possible. ‘Pancakes it is, then. And you can fry up some bacon.’

He opened two bottles of Mirror Pond Ale, handed one to her, and they worked in comfortable silence preparing the meal. He liked the feel of her in his space. He liked it a lot. They settled in to feast at the breakfast bar just as the sun was turning the lake golden.

Flannery’s men were already there when they’d arrived, a very subtle intrusion for which Harris was grateful. He knew Stacie was worried about him, but all he could really think about was Ingrid Watson’s battered face and Marston saying that Jamison had done much worse to Stacie. He’d never had thoughts of hurting anyone and certainly not of killing anyone, but the thought of Jamison laying a hand on Stacie did things to him, things that were startling and not fit for civilized conversation.

She nodded to the painting of a mountain lion above his mantle. ‘You’ve already got it hung.’

‘Of course I do,’ he said. ‘I had that place in mind when Lynn bought it for me at the auction.’

‘Vargas is a good artist. She really captures the feel of the outdoors. I’d like to do an exhibition of her work at some point.’

‘If the mountain lion’s any indication, then I’d be inclined to agree,’ Harris replied around a mouthful of pancake.’

She turned her attention back to him. ‘Tell me about the mountain lions you photographed.’

Her request surprised him, but not in an unpleasant way. He loved it that his photographs of the mountain lions mattered enough for her to ask about them. He washed down the last of his pancakes with the cocoa she’d made to go with their meal. ‘I came upon them by accident. I mean, I knew they were there. I’d seen scat and there’d been sightings by a naturalist friend of mine. I came upon a female with three kittens –really young, still nursing. I’d never seen kittens that young.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘I’d never seen kittens at all. I’d only ever seen adult lions twice and that was just their backside as they disappeared.’

She leaned forward over her plate, closer to him, and sighed. ‘Wow. It must have been amazing. I get goosebumps just thinking about it.’

He gave a grunt. ‘I got more than just goosebumps. I nearly pissed myself. The first dozen shots I took, I was shaking so bad you could barely tell what they were. And then – then the female saw me. Jesus, I thought I was in trouble. I froze and she let out one of those hair-curling screams.’ He chafed his arms. ‘The sound of a mountain lion isn’t a roar. They can’t roar. They don’t have the vocal chords for it. It’s a scream, and it’s the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard. Anyway, she just stood there for what felt like ages, just stood there staring me down. And then she huffed out a little groan, nuzzled her kittens, and settled onto the rocks. After that, I swear it was like she and the kittens were posing for me.’

Stacie sat with hands wrapped around her cocoa cup, her eyes bright in amazement. He wished he could keep her that way. He wished he could keep her mind off of everything.

‘I don’t know how long she let me take pictures of her little family, but I ended up with several hundred shots – some you’ve seen, were amazing. Then, for no reason I could see, she stood and sauntered off with the kittens nipping at her tail.’

‘Wow! I wish I’d been there. I wish I’d seen the cats. I wish I’d seen you there, shooting like crazy in spite of being scared. I’d love to have seen you in your element in that amazing situation.’ She nodded again to the painting above the fireplace. ‘Why not one of your photos there instead? They’re wonderful. Any of the ones on your website would look amazing there.’

He glanced over at the painting. ‘I don’t know; it seemed too personal. I suppose that sounds silly, but they feel almost like intimate moments, pictures I want to look at all the time, but still sort of keep them private. I mean, they’ve been in magazines and in exhibitions, it’s true, but still, here at home, they feel too intimate to go up over the fireplace for everyone to see. I have a couple in my study and one in my bedroom, but then you probably didn’t notice it the last time …’

She smiled a smile that looked a little sad around the edges. ‘I had other things on my mind last time I was in your bedroom.’

He curled his fingers around her hand where it lay on the counter next to her empty plate. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t notice, actually, considering how keen you were on getting me in your exhibition.’ Immediately, he wished he’d not brought up the subject.

She pulled away from him and began clearing the dishes. ‘Harris, I shouldn’t even be here.’ She spoke without looking at him. ‘I left that night because I didn’t want to involve you in this mess, and if anything, it’s even more dangerous for you now.’

‘You’re not getting rid of me, so stop trying.’

She dropped the plate in the sink with a hard clatter and jumped back with a gasp. There she stood with her back to him, spine stiff, shoulders tight.

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