The Exhibition (An Executive Decision Trilogy) (28 page)

‘It’s just a gallery, and an upscale one,’ Flannery hissed back. ‘But the woman insisted that it be air-tight and all-seeing.’ He gave an off-handed nod to the security camera above them. ‘Not only can she see from the monitors what’s going on anyplace in the gallery – even the crappers if she’s so inclined – but she can turn the tables so the monitors downstairs can also tap into the security cameras, any of them. Even the ones in her office.’

Wade let out a low whistle. ‘Impressive.’

‘Bloody genius,’ Flannery said, shoving the door open. ‘And there’s me thinking all the time that it was overkill. The woman knew exactly what she was doing. If she’d have let me in on the plan, I’d have told her she was totally insane.’

‘You’d have been right,’ Ellis said as they dashed down the hall toward the office.

Harris’ heart started beating again when Jamison took the gun from Stacie’s mouth and shoved her onto the hardwood floor. Now there was something he could do. Now he was no longer helpless. He crept around the open door of the security booth until he was directly behind Jamison. Every muscle in his body ached to tackle the man, to pound him to a bloody pulp, to make him eat the gun he held and every bullet in it. But he did hold the gun, and though it wasn’t exactly aimed at Stacie, it wasn’t far enough from her to suit Harris, so he waited. And listened.

‘Get up.’ Jamison’s voice was soft, but lethal. ‘And make yourself presentable. We’re leaving, and I don’t want a bawling, cringing, frump on my arm.’

The room, which already felt tight to the breaking point, crackled with anger and rage that made the hair on the back of Harris’ neck rise. None of that anger, none of that rage belonged to Jamison. Stacie pushed herself to her feet, to her full height, shoulders thrown back, hands hanging in loose fists at her side. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you, Terrance. I’m staying right here.’

‘It looks like I’m going to have to teach you the difference between a request and an order, Stacie.’ He drew back to hit her with the gun, but this time she raised her arm and his efforts deflected off her forearm with a bruising thud.

And in that moment, Harris pounced with a growl that burned through his chest like fire, and all the anger, all the fury he had been holding, storing up for Jamison, joined the maelstrom of rage. He wrestled the man to the floor, grappling to pin him, one hand wrapped tight around Jamison’s wrist, his fingers digging into sinew to get him to drop the gun.

A well-aimed kick by Stacie caught the man in the ribs and narrowly missed Harris’ thigh. It was a glancing blow, but it was enough of one that the gun fell from Jamison’s hand and skittered across the floor. Then Harris dragged him to his feet.

In spite of the situation in which he now found himself, Jamison was laughing. ‘You’ll both live to regret this,’ he said, his gaze locked on Stacie, who picked up the gun. ‘Well, at least one of you will live to regret this, and then end up behind bars for a long, long time.’ He took in the room and the situation. ‘Who knew that Stacie Emerson held such a grudge against me? But it was confirmed downstairs with that closing speech, flashing pictures of the Bald Hill clear-cut all over, letting it be known just how special that place used to be to her. And I’m sure if it was investigated far enough she’ll turn out to have long-running connections with eco-terrorists. Oh, I can make it all happen, Stacie. You know I can. And here I am, showing up innocent and unaware that Stacie Emerson has a hidden agenda. Oh, it doesn’t really matter what all of your cohorts say, you have no proof of anything I’ve just said, and I’ve been giving you money. In your financial situation, who knows what you might try to pull?’

Calmly, almost regally, in complete control once again, Stacie went to her laptop and, with a few keystrokes, brought up what the cameras in her office were recording.

He shrugged. ‘What? Are you going to tweet about how much fun you had at your little exhibition? Would you like me to smile pretty for the camera?’ 

‘What you’re seeing right now, Terrance –’ she spat his name as though it were something vile ‘– is what everyone in the gallery has been seeing for the past 15 minutes.’ She nodded down to the still open drawer of the desk and to the little button along the side. ‘I wasn’t reaching for the gun. That was only for just in case. I was making sure everyone in the gallery heard every word you said and saw every move you made.’ She walked to him and stood nearly nose to nose with him. ‘And all of it, every single bit of it was paid for with my money. I don’t need a penny from you. I never did. But I do believe in payback.’ She nodded to their image on the security monitor. ‘No one believes in payback more than I do. And now, for the first time in ten years, I’ve paid you back, in full, Terrance Jamison. In full! Just like I promised.’

As the color drained from Jamison’s face and he looked desperately for a way out, the door burst open and Flannery shoved his way in, his gun already drawn and leveled at Jamison. Ellis and Wade were right behind him. Then, with a grace and poise that completely belied the horrid situation she’d just been in, Stacie turned and walked back to Harris, kissed him hard on the mouth, and took his hand in hers.

Astonishingly, Jamison was laughing again. ‘Do you think you’ve won, Stacie? Do you really think I’d let you? I promise your victory’ll be short-lived and empty.’

Harris didn’t see from where Jamison pulled the gun. He hadn’t even considered that the man might have a concealed weapon. He saw a flash of metal as Jamison leveled it at him. Then Stacie yelled like a banshee and launched herself at him, shoving him out of the way just as the gun went off. They tumbled in a heap to the floor and rolled until Harris felt the edge of the sofa at his back. ‘Are you all right? Are you all right?’ They were both yelling at once, each trying to reassure the other. It all happened so fast and, even as Flannery made a dive for Jamison, the gun went off again and there was an explosion of red, lurid and thick from the back of Jamison’s head. Then he fell to the floor, gun still clenched in a reflexive grip, the corners of his mouth fixed in what could have passed for the grotesque remains of a smile from a joke that was on him. And in between, his lips were parted to swallow the barrel of the weapon back at the perfect angle, an angle he’d have known from experience.

Then the police burst through the door and everyone was talking at once. Harris scrambled to his feet and helped Stacie up. Before he could do more than steady her, before he could pull her back, she moved to Jamison’s body. For a second, she stood looking down at him, her chest rising and falling like she’d just run a marathon. Then she said softly, ‘I paid you back, you sonovabitch. I paid you back just like I said I would. For Zoe!’

There was a collective gasp of surprise as she drew back her leg and kicked his corpse hard. ‘For Ingrid!’ This time her voice was more like a loud growl as she kicked him again, a growl that got louder with each kick. Her eyes were chillingly dry and the fire in them was nothing less than pure hatred. Everyone looked on, but no one made an effort to stop her. ‘For Kenny Hearn!’ She kicked him again and again. ‘And for all you stole from all of us, for everyone you hurt! I paid you back. I paid you back. I paid you back!’ The final kick was with such force that she nearly lost her balance, but for Harris wrapping his arms around her and guiding her away.

The police officer in charge nodded toward the door. ‘Don’t go far, but it might be wise if you get her out of here.’

She said nothing as Harris guided her down the stairs, his arm still wrapped protectively around her. She neither trembled nor did she cry. But she moved in a state of calm that chilled him. As they passed through the main exhibition hall, where once again the film loop was playing mindlessly, the stunned crowd parted for them to walk through. A few people began to clap softly, and then a few more and a few more until the whole hall echoed with applause. But Stacie only stared straight in front of her. Jenny handed Harris a bottle of water and stroked Stacie’s arm briefly as they passed.

Outside, the night air was fresh and unusually warm for autumn and Venus hung lazily just above the treeline. Harris guided her around to the small sculpture garden and settled her down on a marble bench. Once she was seated, he opened the water and handed it to her. She sipped, and handed it back, but he refused.

‘Drink more,’ he said, taking off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. You’re in shock.’

‘I’m fine,’ she said, trying to push the bottle back at him. ’I’m fine now.’

‘Are you trained in first aid? I don’t think so, now drink the damned water and sit still while I check you out.’ How could she be so calm when she had been through such a nightmare, when she’d practically gotten herself killed? He sure as hell wasn’t calm. He figured psychotherapy was imminent, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. At the moment, all that mattered was that Stacie was safe here with him.

She sipped the water, then grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to her. ‘I think maybe you’re in shock, Mr. Walker, and you’ll feel better if you just hold me.’

He couldn’t argue with that logic. He took her into his arms and heard the little grunt of air he’d forced from her lungs in his enthusiasm to get close to her, to reassure himself that she was alive and well and free of Jamison for good. ‘I think you might be right,’ he said. ‘I feel better already. Sure you don’t have some first aid training?’

‘Just good instincts,’ she said as she offered him the bottle of water.

He took a long pull, then handed it back. ‘You’re gonna have one helluva a black eye,’ he said, pushing the hair away from her face and examining it gently.

She ignored his comment and pulled away just enough to look up into his gaze. ‘I love you,’ she said with no preamble. ‘I have to tell you that. I wanted to tell you for a while, but I couldn’t, and after what happened … I was afraid I’d never get to tell you. I was afraid …’ Her voice drifted off. and she nuzzled back into his arms. This time she was trembling. ‘I love you,’ she whispered against his shoulder.

Harris closed his eyes and rested his chin against the top of her head. ‘I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that.’

‘I plan to say it a lot now that … things are settled. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘Can’t think of any words I’d rather hear, Stacie, and I plan to say them right back, often and with great enthusiasm. I love you, Stacie Emerson, and now that you’re safe, I don’t plan to let you out of my sight, oh, for maybe the next 50 years or so.’

‘Just try and get rid of me, Harris Walker. Just try.’

That’s how Kendra and Garrett found them, sitting on the bench, wrapped in each other’s arms. They were followed almost immediately by Dee and Ellis, and Marston and Wade, with Flannery bringing up the rear, an ice bag pressed to his swollen face. Then the ambulance came and the police asked questions and reporters were anxious for statements. Though even without interviews, they had way more of a story than they ever bargained for.

What felt like years later, they returned to Harris’ cabin, but instead of going inside, Stacie grabbed his hand and led him to the dock. ‘I don’t want to go in just yet,’ she said. Before he really registered what was happening, she unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. She’d lost the shoes hours ago. ‘I want to wash the past few days away before we go inside so I can start fresh in the place I love with the man I love.’

‘Sounds like a perfect idea,’ he said, kicking out of his shoes and shoving and peeling off the remains of the tux way faster than he’d put it on. He caught a delicious glimpse of Stacie’s backside followed by a heavy splash of water as she executed a cannonball that would have made any ten-year-old boy jealous. He followed suit and came up spitting water before pulling her naked and giggling against him. He kissed her throat, and ran his hands down to cup her bottom and lift her legs around his waist. ‘You sure you’re all right?’ he asked.

‘I am. I’m just so relieved it’s all over.’ She gave him a hard hug, and he held her tight, wrapped around him like she belonged there, like she was a part of him. At last she spoke. ‘I had nightmares that I’d be too afraid, that I’d be a coward when the time came, that I wouldn’t be able to do what I had to when he … When he took me again.’

Harris pulled her still closer and stroked her hair. ‘In the end Jamison was the coward, Stacie. In the end, he couldn’t take responsibility for his actions.’

‘I don’t want to talk about him, Harris. I don’t want to talk at all.’ She punctuated her words with a bite of a kiss that was possessive and demanding, and Harris responded in kind. In the passionate tangle of tongues and lips, Harris forgot to tread water and they both went under to surface again sputtering and laughing. She reached down between them, took his erection into her hand, and he caught his breath in a tight groan. ‘I need you to make love to me, Harris.’ She was practically climbing his body as he fumbled between her legs to find her open and receptive, slickened with arousal in spite of the cold water. ‘Now I’m free. Now we really can make love with nothing hanging over us.’ She sucked her bottom lip with a sigh as he positioned himself and eased up inside of her, feeling the perfect fit of her like a glove, like a second skin, like his second skin.

The water made their lovemaking awkward, and thrusting was a challenge, but her grip on him was tight and pulsing, and he found that by moving his legs in a scissoring fashion each time his efforts to tread water forced him upward, he pressed deeper inside her and each time he pressed up, she grasped hard onto him. The water was cold, and they’d been separated too long not to be needy for each other. All of the adrenaline of the evening translated itself into raw, impatient sex. They came quickly, both sputtering and spitting and struggling to stay above the glassy calm of the lake as they convulsed in each other’s arms.

The shed party clothes got left on the dock as they made a mad shivering dash for the house and for the warmth of the shower and more lovemaking, and then the bed.

The sky was just greying with dawn when Harris woke to find himself alone beneath the comforter. Icy panic gripped his stomach as he threw back the covers and stumbled naked to the top of the stairs. It was then that he smelled bacon cooking. Stacie stood wrapped in his plaid shirt with a spatula in her hand. She smiled up at him, raking him with a lusty gaze. ‘I’m starving. You want some bacon and eggs?’