Unfinished Business, page 16
part #17 of Sam Prichard Series
12
When Ben Hickam awoke the following morning, Summer was already in the shower. He blinked himself to alertness, trying to remember everything that happened the night before, but it was an incredibly erotic blur. He vaguely remembered the passionate lovemaking, and knew that it was the best sex he’d ever had, but he couldn’t actually visualize a particular moment of it.
“Damn,” he said to himself, “she may be more woman than I can handle.”
He thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. He threw off the covers and was surprised to discover just how sweaty he was, but he knew that good sex would do that to him. He was just about to get up off the bed when Summer came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. She saw him awake and came straight to him, grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him.
“Good morning, baby,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a bloody rock,” he said. “Good heavens, woman, you must have worn me out.”
She giggled. “Well, don’t worry, you gave as good as you got. Baby, I haven’t been that satisfied in years. Maybe never, now that I think about it.” She kissed him again, then dropped the towel and began putting on her clothes.
Hickam stared at her. “You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” he said. “Am I dreaming? Are you real?”
She turned her head and smiled at him. “I'm real, babe,” she said. “Hey, you better get moving. What time did you say that appointment was? Nine o’clock?”
He looked confused for a second, then realization dawned. He must’ve told her about Morton coming over, but he vaguely remembered telling her about the plan to merge their two companies, so that was all right.
“Heavens, yes,” he said. “I'll shower quickly and then we could go down for some breakfast.” He hesitated for a second. “Will you be staying today?”
She gave him her thousand-watt smile again. “Well, you did ask me to,” she said. “Remember? You said I could stay with you for a few days?”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “We should probably go and get some of your things, after my meeting.”
“No need,” she said. “They have a lovely clothing boutique down on the main floor. I thought I might just buy a few things this morning.” She looked up at him. “Or did you want me to leave for a while? While you have your meeting?”
“Oh, no, no,” he said. “Let me shower and then we can have breakfast and do a bit of shopping.” He got off the bed and pulled some clothes out of his open suitcase, then walked into the shower.
By the time he came out, Summer was back in the dress she had worn the day before, and they went down to the restaurant for breakfast. Summer contented herself with coffee and a cinnamon roll while Hickam went for an American breakfast of ham and eggs. As soon as they were finished, they walked hand in hand from the restaurant into the clothing store and Summer selected a couple of pantsuits and underclothes, including some that caused Hickam’s face to break out in a smile.
When it came time to check out, she was just a little nervous. Her credit card said Windlass Security on it, and even her own bore a different name than the one she was using. She was trying to think of a way to ask Hickam to step away, but he produced his own credit card before she could even start to look for hers.
“Allow me,” he said. “There’s little I love more than pampering a young lady. Let these be my gift to you for today.”
Summer grabbed him and kissed him, right in front of the sales clerk. Hickam turned pink, while the saleslady pretended not to notice the large discrepancy in their ages.
When they got back to the room, Summer treated him to a show as she stripped out of her clothes and got dressed again. The business suit looked very good on her, as she had known it would, and Hickam was even more entranced with the knowledge of the racy thong and bra she wore under it.
She had just gotten dressed and put her used clothing into one of the bags when there was a knock on the door. Hickam got up from where he was sitting on the bed and opened it, and Summer saw Morton standing there with Darren Beecher behind him. She had half expected to see Darren, and he had been warned that she might be present, so they looked each other over the way people do when they meet for the first time.
“I'm here,” Morton said hatefully as Hickam closed the door behind them. “Let’s get this over with. You have the paperwork?”
“You were supposed to come alone,” Hickam said. “Who the hell is this bloke?”
“My personal bodyguard,” Morton said. “You don’t think I trust you, do you? I said I would do what you people want, anything to get Annie back, but there’s no way in the world I'm going to trust you not to cut my throat.”
“First, let me tell you that I'm as much a pawn in this as you are,” Hickam said. “I was approached by the same people who contacted you and forced to participate in this thing. And while I grant that the merger was something I wanted, I can’t say I wanted it on these terms.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Morton said. “Let’s just get this done, so I can have Annie back.”
Hickam glared at him, but then walked to a briefcase sitting on the floor and picked it up. He laid it on the table and opened it, removed a stack of documents, and laid them out on the table.
“I've already signed,” he said. “Sign each copy, and one set of them is for you.”
Morton pulled the chair out and sat down, then started signing wherever there was an X. It was obvious that he wasn’t even bothering to read the documents, but Hickam said nothing. When he was finished, he got back to his feet.
“Are we done?” Morton asked.
“Yes. Take one set for yourself.”
“I don’t want…” Morton began, but Darren put a hand on his arm. He stood there for a second, then picked up one of the stacks of documents and started toward the door. Darren followed him in silence, and they left without another word.
Hickam picked up the copies left behind and looked them over. Morton had signed everywhere he was supposed to, and Benjamin Hickam felt a thrill of excitement as he looked at the papers that would name him as the Chief Executive Officer of the joint business, which would be renamed Starbright Global. Web Wide Awards would still exist, but only as a department within the larger company.
“That was exciting,” Summer said. “The way he was just submitting to you, that was incredible.” She walked close and reached out to turn his face to look at her. “He was talking about getting someone named Annie back,” she said, her voice deep with excitement. “Did you kidnap her? Are you holding her to make him agree to this?”
“Well, not me personally,” Hickam said. “It actually wasn’t even my idea, but it got the job done. Does it disappoint you, that I didn’t do it personally?”
Summer shook her head. “Not a bit,” she said. “Just the fact that you would use something so bad to get what you want, that turns me on.”
Hickam smiled from ear to ear. “Well, there’s more than that coming,” he said.
“Really? Is he the one who’s going to die?”
Hickam stared at her. He racked his brain, and then vaguely remembered what he had told her the night before. “Well…”
Summer grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. “That would be so hot,” she said quickly. “To know that I just saw him, right here, signing your papers, and then get to watch him die? Oh, baby, what you do to me!”
Hickam’s eyes were wide when she let his face go, and he was staring at her. “That won’t happen until tomorrow,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “For today, I have to continue to pretend that everything is normal. In fact, I have to leave now to go to the conference, because we're going to be talking about some new developments in the field of internet video. You can come along, but I'll need to introduce you as my assistant. The conference is only open to people involved in the business, you see.”
“That’s okay,” Summer said. “Give me a pad and pencil, I'll take notes. Oh, this is so exciting. Ben, I think you and I were made for each other, baby.”
Hickam stared at her, his heart racing and his eyes wide, with a smile that was actually beginning to hurt. “My darling,” he said, “I'm beginning to believe you are right.”
“Well, let’s go,” Summer replied. “We don’t want to keep all the bigwigs waiting, do we?”
“I have to make a call, first,” he said. He took out his phone and dialed a number, and then said, “It’s done. All signed.” He listened for a moment, said, “I understand,” and then ended the call and dropped the phone into his pocket.
Hickam got up and put on a tie, slipped into his jacket, and then put the documents into the hotel room safe. “Can’t be too careful,” he said. Once he locked it, he turned to her and extended his arm, and she tucked a hand in his elbow. They walked out of the room and toward the elevator, with Summer snuggling up to his arm as tightly as she could.
They took a taxi to the Javits Center, and Summer almost had a moment of panic. Security guards at the door were checking people against the list, but when it was their turn, Hickam only announced himself and his assistant, and the guard nodded for them to enter.
Then there was another bad moment. Just inside the door was a metal detector, and a machine that would x-ray a bag or briefcase. Summer had forgotten to take her pistol out of her purse, so she started to panic again, but then she happened to glance at the operator and recognized Rob Feinstein standing just behind the man. She caught his eye for a split second as she put her purse on the conveyor next to Hickam’s briefcase, and Rob leaned down and whispered something to the operator as the conveyor passed through the machine.
The machine made enough noise that she couldn’t hear what Rob had said, but the operator conveniently missed seeing her pistol. She stepped through the metal detector, then picked up her purse when it came through and waited for Hickam to catch up with her.
A moment later, they were being shown to a meeting room. As one of the principal players in the internet video industry, Benjamin Hickam was invited to participate in the Mastermind Group of the Conference. This was a meeting in which various industry leaders would propose new ideas, potential rules, and visions for the future, and it was likely to be one of the most exciting meetings of the entire convention. Everyone who could possibly attend was going to be there, because this would be the place where the future of the industry was shaped.
Morton was already there, with Darren sitting beside him. Once again, they ignored each other, and Morton even made a point of looking away when Hickam entered the room. Hickam ignored it and took his seat.
The room was set up like a theater, with a stage and a projection screen up front, and several hundred seats facing it. Summer saw Jade and Denny, but didn’t let anyone notice that she recognized them. She took the empty seat next to Hickam, and prepared to pretend to be his assistant.
For the next two hours, what she did most was try to stay awake. Very little of what was discussed was anything she could understand, so she entertained herself by teasing Hickam. Her fingers would brush the inside of his thigh, she would lean over and blow gently into his ear, or she would lean close and whisper something about how hot he had her, and it was all the poor man could do to concentrate on what he was saying when it was his turn to speak.
At shortly after noon, they broke for lunch. Lunch was a catered affair, set up much like a buffet. Summer followed him through the line and picked a few items she wanted to try, but they were rushed. The meeting was supposed to resume at twelve thirty, so they ended up with less than ten minutes to actually eat.
The rest of the afternoon was just as boring as the morning. Summer managed to stay awake, but she did it by means of several cups of coffee. There was a serving person walking through with coffee cups on a tray, and she snagged one every time he got close.
The meeting finally came to an end at just before six, and they made their way out of the center. Hickam flagged another taxi and they went back to the hotel, this time going straight into the restaurant for a decent dinner. Summer suggested they have a drink, and Hickam ordered a Manhattan, while she had a vodka Collins.
“I’ve never had a Manhattan,” she said. “Let me try a taste, please?”
Hickam smiled and passed the glass over to her, and she held it up to look closely at it for a moment. She had kicked off her right shoe and Hickam suddenly found her foot stroking the inside of his thigh, and he looked down in surprise.
It was all the time she needed. The quick dissolving capsule dropped into the glass, and then she pretended to take a sip while it vanished. She kept it in her hand and looked at it for a moment, smacking her lips and pretending to consider the flavor, until the capsule was entirely dissolved.
“I think I'll stick to Collins,” she said as she handed it back.
By the time they got to the room, she was almost having to hold him up. She got the door opened and helped him to the bed, then got him undressed. She took off her own clothing and lay down beside him, then began whispering in his ear once again.
* * * * *
That morning, while Darren and Morton were preparing to go see Hickam, Sam had been a nervous wreck. He checked the tablet several times an hour, but there were no emails of instructions from Gabby to her henchmen.
Stacy had used Summer’s room, since they knew that she would not be coming back overnight. When it was time to head for the convention, she showed up at Sam’s door dressed in the nurse’s scrubs and looking very professional.
“We need to get going, Ken,” Sam said. “Are you sure you want to go? Is there any chance this Gabby would know who you are?”
“I doubt it. Even when I was posing as a rogue agent, we didn’t move in the same circles, and I doubt they ever even knew my name. Let’s go, let’s go, get into your wheelchair.”
“I don’t need the wheelchair to get down the elevator,” Sam said, but Ken pointed out that a disguise was only as good as you made it. He grumbled for a few moments, but finally he sat in the wheelchair and let Stacy spread the thin blanket over his legs.
“Many invalids feel that their legs become cold,” she said. “The blanket is correct, so keep it there.”
“Yes, Nurse Ratchet,” Sam said. “Whatever you say.”
Stacy ignored the comment and pushed him to the elevator. They rode it to the ground floor, then followed Ken to the parking garage.
At some point, Ken had arranged for a van that was equipped with a wheelchair lift. Stacy seemed to recognize the controls and had Sam loaded up in a matter of seconds. She climbed into the passenger seat beside Ken and they drove off toward the Javits Center.
And that was where they discovered that the whole thing was every bit as boring as Summer thought it was. They made it into the meeting, but the wheelchair required Sam to sit toward the back of the room. By the time they broke for lunch, he was complaining quietly to Stacy that his butt was starting to hurt.
They spotted Summer with Hickam during the lunch break, but carefully stayed out of sight. Sam didn’t know if Hickam had ever seen a photo of him or not, but even with his disguise, he didn’t want to come face to face with the man until it was time to arrest him. Sam and Ken sat at a table by itself while Stacy went to fetch them something to eat.
It was while they were eating that Sam’s phone rang, and he answered it cautiously. “Hello?”
“Sam, it’s Hunter Lambert. Man, that was an incredible piece of video you sent me. I've just gotten off the phone with your buddy Pemberton, back in Denver, and we’ve agreed that this is sufficient evidence to implicate Hickam in the Petrelli shooting. You’ll have a warrant for his arrest waiting for you when you get back to your hotel. I'm going to leave discretion on when to make the arrest up to you, but if you get anything else, let me know.”
“That sounds good, sir,” Sam said. “It should happen pretty soon.”
They barely managed to get their lunch finished by the time they had to go back inside. The announcement that Morton and Hickam would not be speaking until the following morning made Sam feel like the world was tilting on him, and he half expected Morton to be killed right in his seat in the auditorium.
Nothing happened, though. When the meeting finally ended for the day, Sam couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and out of the wheelchair. He finally had his fill when they entered the elevator and got up out of it. When the doors opened, he walked the rest of the way to his room with Stacy following behind with the wheelchair.
A man in the hallway saw him limping along, his bad hip throwing a fit over having sat all day, and nodded toward the wheelchair. “I was in one of those for eight months,” he said. “Makes you want to get up and walk no matter how bad it hurts, doesn’t it?” The man chuckled as he walked on by, and Sam glared at him.
Sam opened his door and Ken and Stacy followed him inside. There was an envelope on the floor, obviously tucked under the door, and Sam held onto the doorknob as he bent to pick it up.
“Warrant,” he said. “At least we got it, now.”
When they got into the room, Sam decided to go for room service rather than change clothes and head back down to the elevator. Only Ken and Stacy were with him, so they ordered together and waited for the food to come up.
“So, that’s the stage they’re going to be on tomorrow,” Sam said. “I saw a few places where someone might hide to get off a shot, but not very many. I wonder if Walter finished coming up with his possibilities.”
Steve and Walter had continued going over the entire building that day, and Walter had in fact identified numerous possible vantage points for a shooter. Most of them, however, would have been just about impossible to get to while the meeting was going on, and it had already been established that no one was there before it began. Sam was honestly starting to wonder if they really understood what was going to happen or not.
He called Steve. “Well?” he asked. “Walter figure it out?”
