The Exhibition (An Executive Decision Trilogy) (23 page)

‘Bit of luck,’ Stacie interrupted. ‘How can you call it a bit of luck when a man’s dead?’

Flannery flinched as though she had punched him, though his gaze never left hers. ‘Kenny is dead because he broke the rules. He left his post. He knew better. He knew that if he wanted anything all he had to do was ask. In my line of work, a man doesn’t leave his post. And certainly not for takeout Chinese.’ He said the last two words like they were a curse. His chest heaved. He straightened until his back was ramrod stiff in the chair. ‘So, if we’re going to take advantage of this bit of luck, I need you to do what Stacie Emerson would do if it hadn’t been Kenny Hearn in that Jeep. I need you to do what Stacie Emerson would do if it had been Harris Walker in that Jeep.’ The alarm registered in her eyes, but before she could speak, Flannery went on, ‘Look, you’ve told us that you know what you’re doing. You’ve told us that you’ll pay your debts, that it’ll all be over after this exhibition, and I have to say, I’m greatly suspending my disbelief to see how the hell you can make that happen, Stacie. But I trust you. I have from the beginning. And if all hell breaks loose, if there are … other unforeseen events Jamison throws our way, then I want to be ready. So can you do as I asked?’

Stacie mirrored Flannery’s posture and the panic that seemed about to consume her vanished. She nodded slowly. ‘When Zoe died … I just got on with it. It was a week before a big exhibition. Like now. Things were insane. There was way more to do than there was time to do it, and that was good. That’s what I did. Everything, anything.’

‘Good. Then I’m sure this situation will be the same, and Jamison’s an observant man,’ Flannery said. ‘He’ll think you’re acting out of grief.’

‘He’ll approach me. He’ll probably text me. He’ll be very apologetic that I forced him to do this … thing.’ She shoved her hair back from her face and continued. ‘I can ignore the texts for a while. That’s what I would do. That’s what I did because I was … helpless to do anything else. I was helpless to do what I really wanted to do. If this time is the same, eventually he’ll send for me or he’ll come to me.’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ Harris said. ‘I’m not going to let that happen.’

‘You have no choice, Walker,’ Flannery told him. ‘You’re dead, remember? You have to stay invisible, at least for the grace period we have, which more than likely won’t be long.’

‘There’s no way!’ Harris pulled Stacie so tightly to him that she gave a little gasp. ‘There’s no way I’m gonna hide out back here and do nothing while Stacie’s exposed to that piece of shit.’

‘Harris, Harris!’ Stacie extricated herself from his tight grip and took his hands in hers, this time more gently, this time more in control. ‘Harris, he’s not going to hurt me, at least not physically, and if you’re not in the picture, then he can’t hurt me by hurting you.’

‘Fuck!’ He felt more helpless than he could ever remember. ‘I can’t just sit back and do nothing.’

‘Oh, you won’t be doing nothing,’ Wade said. ‘I promise you that. You’ll be helping me here in the Dungeon. Trust me, we can do more good getting to the bottom of this situation here and finding a way to keep Stacie safe than we could any place else.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Stacie said, her voice dead calm. ‘I am safe. I’m completely safe. Jamison knows the very best way to hurt me is to hurt the people I care about, so if you want to help me, Wade, than keep Harris safe, keep everyone else in this room safe, and Kendra and Garrett and Ingrid Watson.’

‘Look, you’re both exhausted,’ Ellis said. ‘We all are. This has been a helluva week, and we’ve all done everything we can do tonight. Right now, we all need rest, and we can start again fresh in the morning. Wade?’

Wade nodded. ‘I’ve got the guest room all ready.’

‘You have a guest room?’ Harris asked.

‘Of course I have a guest room,’ the man said. ‘Upon the insistence of Beverly Neuman back in the early days. And just to be sure I got it right, she had her decorator make it nice.’ He offered a wisp of a smile. ‘It’s not the Ritz, but after Beverly’s decorator got through with it, it damn near could be.’

‘Does anyone really know just what down here in the Dungeon?’ Harris asked.

‘Nope,’ Ellis replied. ‘I’m not even sure Wade does any more. And frankly, I’m not sure I’d be brave enough to find out.’ He stood and helped Dee to her feet. ‘Get some rest, both of you. Wade’ll be a good host. Tomorrow, Stacie goes into work as the grieving lover, and we get to work on finding out how to bring that fucker down.’

Harris was taken aback by Ellis’ easy use of the word “lover”. Everyone but Stacie seemed to be comfortable with the idea of him being her lover. And with her, he was constantly afraid he’d get too close and she’d make a run for it.

Stacie knew that she was dreaming, but she couldn’t stop it. The dream would play out to the end, as it always did. The end was always the same and always horrible. She knew what would happen next, and knowing made her skin prickle, knowing made her stomach knot until it hurt. There were stairs, endless stairs, and she never knew why she hadn’t taken the elevator instead. Surely if she had, she’d have been able to save Zoe. If she’d only taken the elevator instead. But she climbed flight after flight after flight, racing across landings and panting and sweating and forcing her aching thighs to press on. She should be there by now. Surely she should be there by now, and Zoe, dear God, Zoe had suffered enough. Every time Zoe was late, every time she seemed unhappy, every time she was in a room where there was alcohol, Stacie worried about her. But she was doing better. It had been almost a month since she’d touched a drink or anything else. The group meetings seemed to be helping, and Stacie had done something she promised she’d never do. She’d borrowed money from Alan Marston to help pay for at least a few sessions with a psychiatrist and get any meds Zoe needed. If Jamison found out there’d be hell to pay, but he wouldn’t. She’d make sure he didn’t. They were doing all right. They were managing. Surely Zoe was OK. Surely she had just forgotten the time. And fuck, how many more flights could it be? She must be almost there. Surely she had to be almost there. Why hadn’t she taken the elevator? But at last she threw open the door to the landing and raced down the hall to Zoe’s flat, the key already clutched in her sweating hand.

Almost there, almost there!

She shoved the key home, and the gunshot went off, louder than a cannon, louder than a sonic boom, louder than anything, drowning out the scream that tore from Stacie’s throat as she threw open the door and raced into Zoe’s study.

But it was too late. It was far too late. This time there was no mistaking Zoe’s intentions. This time death painted itself in garish crimson splatters all over the white curtains and the butterscotch wall, and the room smelled of hot blood and cordite, and there was no making it better. No making it better ever again. How could she have been mistaken? She’d been sure Zoe was getting better. How could she have not known? How?

Then he was there, next to her, whispering in her ear. ‘Too bad, really. We’ll miss poor old Zoe. And now you’ll just have to take up the slack.’

Stacie burst into the waking world with a jerk, as though she had been falling. Next to her, Harris slept soundly. She eased herself onto the edge of the bed, not wanting to wake him. The man was exhausted and he blamed himself for what had happened to Kenny. She reckoned he’d have to take a number where blame was concerned. Right now, what mattered was that he was alive. Dear God, he was alive, and it could have so easily been him instead of Kenny Hearn. It would have been him if not for the mountain lions. For the moment, he was safe. But Jamison would find out, and when he did, she’d have to act fast.

Careful not to wake Harris, she slipped into a robe that hung in the closet of Wade’s guestroom. He wasn’t kidding when he said it felt like the Ritz. She found her way to the study and to the laptop on the desk. From the refrigerator, she rummaged a bottle of sparkling water and settled in to write an email to K. Ryde. It was not an email she would send tonight, but one she figured she’d probably have to send in a hurry when the time came, so best do it now while her mind was clear and she had the time to give it some thought.

Chapter Twenty-seven

After the second night in Wade’s Dungeon, Stacie woke from a sound sleep to find Harris gone. She knew he was an early riser – even earlier than she was – so she figured he was working with Wade, who almost never slept. It was good for him to be busy. He was going stir crazy in the confined quarters. The man belonged outdoors in the sunshine and fresh air, and even though he was fascinated with all Wade’s inventions and technology, and probably understood them better than anyone else but Wade, he was miserable.

Last night, Wade had grumped over the dinner that he’d ordered in for them from his favorite Italian restaurant that Harris wasn’t very good at playing dead. It was true. Stacie had never met a man who was more fully alive than Harris was, and during their confinement in the Dungeon, he had channeled a good bit of his pent-up frustration into totally sizzling sex, lots of it. Even though she benefited greatly from that sexual energy, she would have still preferred him to be able to get out and do what Harris Walker did best and loved most. Between their sexual feasting and Wade’s engaging him in new ways to try and find out all they could about Jamison’s Achilles heel, Harris was hanging on, but barely. Still, she didn’t care if they had to tie him to the bed and sedate him in the end; if that’s what would keep him safe, she was willing. At this point, every minute that Jamison didn’t know Harris was still alive was a gift.

So far, Jamison had made no contact. That worried her. She figured he’d be more than anxious to gloat about Harris’ supposed demise. She went to the gallery every day and did what needed to be done. As it had been when Zoe died, there was so much to do that it kept her from dwelling on what would happen, what she knew must happen, after this grace period. Marston had flown back to New York, but planned to return for the exhibition and, as always, Dee and Ellis were insanely busy, though she knew her problems and the coup in Valderia were taking the lion’s share of their time. She wished she’d been able to keep her situation with Jamison from them. That had certainly been her plan. No one was to know and no one was to get hurt. But it hadn’t happened that way. She hadn’t counted on Harris Walker taking the castle by storm. So now she could only move forward, hoping and praying for just a little more time with Harris before Jamison turned everything upside down again.

She was standing in front of the big mirror in the bedroom, putting the final touches on her make-up, when she heard the door open. ‘Morning,’ she called over her shoulder, an effort that ended with her poking the mascara wand in the corner of her eye. She hunted blindly for tissue and Q-tips to clean up her panda face. When she was once again able to see clearly, he was behind her, leaning against the door frame, watching her like she was breakfast.

‘Wade’s gone bowling,’ he said. ‘And I decided to seek out a little entertainment of my own.’

She could have guessed that by the way his jeans were stretched tight and bulging at the fly. She offered him an innocent smile through the mirror. ‘Knowing Wade, I figure he’s got every computer in the place fully loaded for just about any game you’d want to play.’

‘I figured as much, but I’m looking for something a little more interactive. ‘He slid a hand down to rest against his cock. And she smiled into the mirror.

‘I see you brought your own joystick. Do they still use joysticks any more in gaming? I’ve lost track.’

‘I still use mine on a regular basis,’ he said. Then he moved into the room and embraced her from behind, rubbing his fully clothed erection against her bottom until she could feel her skirt ruck up. ‘Would you like a demonstration? If you’re good, I might even let you play with it.’

He slipped a hand up under her skirt and ran it around her thigh, over the tops of her stockings, before sliding it into her panties, causing her to gasp and wriggle her bottom against him. ‘You’ll make me late for work,’ she managed, bearing down on the fingers he pushed up into her.

‘You’re the boss,’ he said. She could feel him fumbling with his fly. ‘Surely you won’t get fired for being a few minutes late.’ He stroked her clit with a wet finger, and the look on his face told her he knew exactly what to do to detain her long enough to get what he wanted and to make her want it too.

‘Undo your blouse for me,’ he whispered against her neck. ‘I love being able to see you while I make love to you. I love being able to watch your face and to see how you look when I’m inside you.’

She did as he asked, and eased open the blouse to offer teasing views. Then, as he gave her clit another hard stroke, she undid the clasps at the front of her bra and lifted her breasts free of the lace cups. She held his gaze in the mirror as she caressed and kneaded herself, feeling heavy and swollen in her hands – a feeling that tightened her grip against his fingers and made him catch his breath and moan. She could feel the smooth, engorged heat of his cock against her upper thigh as he freed himself with a soft curse that hissed between his teeth. ‘Jesus, Stacie, I can’t get enough of you.’ He shoved her skirt up until her bottom, in its black thong, was bare, then she waited in impatient arousal as he stretched the crotch to one side and examined her with wet fingers. She shifted her hips and he pushed her forward over the vanity toward the mirror, then knelt and buried his face between her buttocks to run his tongue along the length of her cleft, making delicious shivers climb her spine, making it harder and harder for her to hold still. Then he reached around her and, with a tight laugh, pulled a condom from the drawer of the vanity. ‘I swear Wade has condoms stashed everywhere. Who the hell are his guests anyway?’

‘Apparently some very horny folks,’ she said, with a little gasp as he pushed into her and began to thrust. ‘Can you imagine?’ Her last word ended in a little yelp as she turned her ankle in one of her pumps and would have lost her balance if Harris hadn’t grabbed her around the waist and practically lifted her off her feet. From the mirror, she watched the glorious look of concentration, of pleasure, of abandon on his face. That she was the source of his pleasure made her feel things, things she hadn’t felt in a really long time, maybe things she’d never actually felt before. She was glad she hadn’t missed the chance to be with Harris Walker. Waking up with him, laughing with him, knowing that she could come home to him – she wished like hell it could last. Her insides ached with that wish and yet mostly, right now she just wanted to keep him safe. Keeping him safe. Yes, that was all that really mattered. And then the urgency of their lovemaking forced her into the moment, into the tight present that was just now, just here, and just her and Harris. His grip on her grew tighter and tighter, and she relished the feel of him so close to coming, so close to taking his pleasure from her, and that was enough to send her over, with him tumbling after a second later.

He mantled her against the vanity table, breathing like his chest would explode, burying his face against her neck, nuzzling and nipping and gasping. ‘Stacie Emerson, where have you been all my life?’ he sighed into her nape.

She felt her eyes well and her chest tighten as she reached over her shoulder to caress his head. ‘Too far from you, Harris Walker. I’ve been way too far from you.’

For a long time they stood like that, wrapped around each other, until at last he pulled out. ‘I have to go,’ she said, glancing down at her watch. ‘It’s a busy day today even if I am the boss.’

‘You’re not gonna shower?’ he asked.

As he pulled off the condom, she took hold of his softening cock and cupped it in her palm. Then, while he watched, she ran her hand down her sternum, spreading his essence onto her breasts. ‘Not today, Harris. I want to go with your scent still on me.’

He offered her a broad smile, then took her mouth in a lingering kiss. When he pulled away, he held her very close and whispered against her ear, softly, but not so softly that she couldn’t hear it. ‘I love you, Stacie Emerson. Hurry back, OK?’

She drove through the morning traffic with Harris’ scent between her breasts and his goodbye words doing strange things to the beat of her heart and the pit of her stomach. He loved her. There were never words she wanted to hear more or dreaded to hear so much. It was now he loved her, now, when they were in the eye of the storm, but how could he possibly love her if he knew what was really in her heart, if he knew what she would do when the time came, when she had to? But, for the moment, Harris Walker loved her and she would bask in that thought for as long as she possibly could.

She had just settled in behind her desk in her office with a freshly brewed cup of coffee when the text came. The chill that passed through her felt colder than winter, colder than death.

You must be so relieved that Mr. Walker escaped the dreadful death intended for him. Terrorists are such a horrid lot. They’ll stop at nothing to get what they want.

Yours always,

TJ

She stared at the text until the words became meaningless symbols on the screen of her BlackBerry. The chill she felt was bone deep, and the world around her went quiet and dark. For a long time, it was only breathing in and out that she could manage. There was somehow comfort in that, somehow a place at the center where, at least for the moment, she was in control. And then the light came back into the world, light that had been there all along. And she heard the bird song, smelled the coffee, heard Jenny talking with the workmen downstairs. This wasn’t New York, she remembered. This was now, not then. She could, and she would do what she had to. She sent back a text.

Perhaps these terrorists would be willing to negotiate if given the right incentive.

The response was almost immediate.

Perhaps they would. Given the right incentive.

A second later, her phone rang. It was Jamison, just as she knew it would be. Ten minutes later, she hung up. With hands that were amazingly steady under the circumstances, she pulled up the email she had written to K. Ryde, gave it the final touches, and sent it.

It was early afternoon when Kendra arrived. Jenny ushered her upstairs and left the two women with Kendra pulling Stacie into a tight bearhug.

‘Have you had lunch?’ she asked.

‘Not yet,’ Stacie said. ‘But I really don’t have time for it today. I can have Jenny order us a takeout if you’d like.’

Kendra was wearing jeans and a red sweater and, if she hadn’t already expected it, something in her no-nonsense stance told Stacie that this was not a lunch date she could get out of.

‘You need to take a meeting with K. Ryde,’ Kendra said. ‘Do you really want to do it here?’

‘I thought K. Ryde didn’t take meetings in person,’ Stacie said, trying to make light of a situation of which there really was no light to be made.

‘He’s making an exception.’

Stacie released a long breath and glanced down at her watch. ‘All right, then let’s take the Lexus and go to see Portlandia. But I can’t go anywhere without my bodyguard. Flannery’s insisting. Stan’ll ride in the back seat and sit out of earshot at the coffee shop. Are you all right with that?’

‘I think having a bodyguard along for the ride is a fantastic idea. Good for Flannery,’ Kendra said. ‘Just two friends having coffee and catching up. Stan’ll be none the wiser.’

‘We don’t really have to do this,’ Stacie said. ‘I know what you’re going to say and it won’t change my mind.’

‘I don’t care,’ Kendra said. ‘We do have to do this. It matters to me, and K. Ryde can be damned persuasive at times.’

Not this time, Stacie thought, but she rolled her shoulders in a vain attempt to release tension, then grabbed her bag and her keys. She told Jenny to close up shop at the end of the day. They’d finish the last details in the Samurai Room in the morning.

There hadn’t been much traffic, and it wasn’t long before they settled at a table with their lattes and paninis and a good view of Portlandia reaching down to them. Safely out of earshot, Stan was ensconced in the corner near the door, reading his paper. Wasting no time, Kendra spoke. ‘I don’t like this, and I don’t want you to do it.’

Stacie picked at the panini she knew she couldn’t eat, not needing this encounter right now, but certain it was inevitable. ‘I know you don’t like it, but it’s the only way.’ Before Kendra could protest, she went on, ‘If you … If K. Ryde doesn’t want to do what I’m asking, I understand. I’ll manage without the Ryde Agency. I’ve always known it might come down to that, and now Garrett’s in the picture and all, I can’t make you choose over your friends. I can certainly understand –’

‘For fuck sake, Stacie, I didn’t just suddenly get soft because Garrett’s in the picture, and my friends are not K. Ryde’s business. I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I’m sure as hell not letting you go through this alone. My part’s easy. My part’s nearly done, but I would be doing you, as my client, and as my friend, a huge disservice if I didn’t tell you that I don’t want you to do this, if I didn’t urge you to reconsider.’

‘You think I have a choice?’ Stacie snapped, then ran a trembling hand through her hair. ‘I’ve gone way too far down this path to have a choice in the matter, if there ever really was a choice, but then we’ll never know about that, will we?’

Kendra watched her from the cool distance that Stacie knew was still K. Ryde, though at the moment, she figured there was a bit of a power struggle going on. ‘You look like hell.’

She nodded. ‘I’m not feeling great at the moment. I always get a little nauseated when we talk about … this.’

Another long silence ensued while Kendra studied Stacie unabashedly and Stacie let her. What choice did she have? If she were going to pull this off, especially sitting across the table from K. Ryde, she would have to act carefully and be really convincing.

‘Look –’ Kendra leaned over her latte so close that Stacie could feel the heat of her breath as it came out in a little hiss. ‘There has to be another way. Harris is in the Dungeon. That’s probably the safest place on the planet, and you have Ellis and Wade and K. Ryde and Flannery. You have a shitload of top-notched people. They can help you. They can protect you. They can keep you safe until they can find a way to bring the bastard down.’