‘My men tell me Jamison had the place well-guarded, but nothing they can’t handle,’ Flannery said. ‘I’ve already turned off the remaining alarm sensors just in case. Harris, you and I and Daniels here –’ he nodded to one of his men, dressed in a black tux ‘– will wait upstairs at the office door. We’ll detain Jamison while you take Stacie, and no one gets hurt.’
Harris was about to say that if Jamison got hurt, he was more than OK with that, when there was a gasp and a shudder among the crowd. All eyes were riveted to the big screens. Everyone looked up just in time to see Terrance Jamison yank the string of pearls he’d been choking Stacie Emerson with until they broke.
‘Fuck,’ Flannery whispered. ‘I didn’t see that one coming. Now I understand why Stacie wanted such an elaborate security system. Turn it up,’ he shouted to Jenny, who was looking on in horror. Then he turned his attention back to Harris and the others. ‘Jamison is about to hang himself with his own rope. Turn up the volume. Now!’ he shouted at Jenny again. She did as he asked, just in time for the startled crowd to see Jamison slap Stacy brutally.
With a guttural growl, Harris exploded into action, racing for the stairs, racing to get to Stacie, racing to get her to safety.
On the sound system, everyone Jamison say, ‘I can take any of them out in a heartbeat, and you would do well to remember that. I can take any of them out just like I did Zoe.’
The spike of fear and adrenaline and unadulterated hatred for Jamison drove Harris onward. Two of Jamison’s men cut him off before he could mount the stairs. They were immediately distracted by two of Flannery’s men and the scuffle was on, but Harris didn’t have time to wait for the showdown to finish. He needed to get to Stacie now.
Looking around desperately, he headed into the small lounge, where a knot of people were huddled in horror in front of the computer monitor, listening as Jamison said, ‘It’s all about acquisitions. You’ve been to my penthouse in Manhattan. You know that I love to collect beautiful things, Stacie, and you know that I always get what I want. I wanted you for my own from the first time I saw you, all enthusiastic and full of innovative ideas for that washed-up gallery, ideas that, by God, you made work. I wanted to break you like I did Zoe. And you should have been easy, but you weren’t. And that made me want you all the more. You were smart, you were untamed, you were outrageously talented and you thought you were above it all. I rose to the challenge, and believe me, in my business there aren’t that many challenges to rise to any more. And now – well, you see for yourself I can bring down a country and place whoever I want in the seat of control. But, like most powerful men, I need entertainment. I need a diversion. Everyone does, Stacie, everyone does.’
With Terrance Jamison’s voice still mesmerizing and horrifying everyone in the gallery, Harris slipped through the patio doors outside the small lounge, which no one was guarding at the moment. He didn’t know how long that would last, since things were in chaos and getting worse. He thrust himself up onto a trellis, which was draped in a good-size wisteria, and began to climb. He caught a glimpse in his peripheral vision of several men he recognized as working for Flannery. Somewhere far off, he heard a siren wail. He hoped that help was on its way. Jesus, the woman was fucking brilliant! The amount of patience and scheming that had gone into her plan was amazing, and it would work too, if it didn’t get her killed first. He wasn’t about to let that happen.
When the trellis ran out, leaving him with a good bit of climbing yet to do before he reached the dormer she had renovated to a sunroom, he was happy he had a few basic climbing skills, skills that had served him well when photographing certain birds of prey. He raised himself onto his toes and managed to reach the window ledge above him. The window was barred, which prevented his entrance, but helped him get the grip he needed to swing himself up. From there, it was an easy reach to the guttering where he could shinny onto the roof and edge his way along to the dormer. He was glad that Flannery had managed to turn off the rest of the alarm sensors. He was sure Stacie would have had the windows on the dormer wired. What she hadn’t done was replace the antique glass windows at the front of the dormer with modern safety glass, which meant that, with any luck, Harris could break his way in and come out in the sunroom of the lounge next to Stacie’s office. When he reached the dormer, to his surprise the window was unlocked. Had she somehow known that he would come for her? He liked that thought, and it spurred him on.
‘Now, get your handbag, Stacie. We’ve got a plane to catch to New York. You lucked out this time; I’m in a forgiving mood.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door, but she jerked away.
‘For how long, Terrance? Until you get bored with me and kill me like you did Zoe? I know you killed her. I’ve always known it.’
His lips curled into a snarl of a smile. ‘I suspected you knew. And really, darling, I wasn’t trying to hide it, at least not from you. You and I were probably the only two people who knew that Zoe would never commit suicide. But you know, Stacie, she was weak, and I was bored with her. It wasn’t hard to make her do it with a little … help.
She closed her eyes and felt her knees go weak. She had waited ten long years to hear his confession. Ten long years of nightmares, of anger, of second-guessing herself, of wondering what she might have done differently. It was as though he read her mind.
‘You couldn’t have saved her, darling. She came between you and me. And that I couldn’t have. So there’s nothing you could have done. There. You’re absolved. Is that what you were waiting for? Is that what you needed, Stacie, absolution? Now come on, let’s go.’
Before she could respond, before she could tell him she wasn’t going, he lunged and yanked the desk drawer open. She cried out as Jamison shoved her aside and rummaged through the drawer. ‘Is this what you were looking for, you duplicitous little bitch?’ In his hand, he held the Glock. With one eye on her, he checked the gun for ammo and laughed as though it were funniest thing ever. ‘And it’s loaded too. Tell me, were you going to use it on me? Because you know what, I don’t think you could do it.’ He waved the gun around wildly. ‘No matter how badly you hate me, I don’t think you’ve got the balls to pull the trigger.’ He laughed again. ‘That’s what separates the men from the boys, Stacie, how willing they are to do what has to be done. And I don’t think you can do it.’
Before she could take another breath, he pulled her to him, her back against his front, holding her around the waist, putting pressure on her fingers until she was sure he would break them. As she opened her mouth to cry out, he forced the gun between her lips until the end of the barrel pressed hard against the roof of her mouth. And dear God, it was her fingers, her own fingers curled around the trigger. Terror tightened around her in a suffocating squeeze. She stopped breathing, she stopped moving. If she could have, she would have willed her heart to stop beating, to hold still, as she held everything else still, forcing herself to stay calm, forcing herself to think.
His laugh burned against her ear. ‘You wanted to know how I did it. You’ve always wanted to know how I did it. Well, this is it, Stacie, this is the magic formula.’ He kissed her ear in a gesture that was beyond obscene under the circumstances. ‘Zoe’s own little hand did the work. Zoe’s fingerprints were on the gun. No one else’s. Just like yours are now.’
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The taste of metal receded and she relaxed. If she died, she died, but at least this time everyone would know, and Zoe would be vindicated. And Jamison wouldn’t hurt anyone else. And Harris – dear God, she wished that she’d told him how much she loved him. In fact, until this very second, she hadn’t even realized just how much. It would have been good with the two of them. It would have been so good.
‘Zoe was too weak to fight back,’ Jamison said against her ear. ‘Therefore it looked very real. In fact, no one even questioned except you. But then you were the one who found her, and only seconds after her heart-breaking suicide. Only seconds after, and me there with
her. Just as anxious as you were to get there before our dear friend did something foolish.’ He kissed her temple, then pulled the gun out of her mouth, and Stacie fell to her knees, a sob ripping its way through her throat.
‘Come now, darling. Don’t cry. I would never end your life that way. I’ve looked forward to enjoying your company for a long time. Now be a good girl and get your handbag. The plane’s waiting.’
Downstairs, the horrified guests literally screamed at the surround-sound vision of what was going on in Stacie’s office. Flannery’s men had managed to subdue Jamison’s and the police were on their way. Flannery, along with Wade and Ellis, who wouldn’t be denied, stormed the stairs to Stacie’s office.
‘The place is a fucking fortress,’ Ellis hissed as Flannery picked the lock on the second set of fire doors.
‘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 n
early 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.’
The Exhibition (An Executive Decision Trilogy) Page 31