Deadly Justice bk-3 Read online

  He’d been up there a full fifteen minutes before he fell, and even then it was just because he got dizzy and lost his balance.

  On the last leg of me course, everyone was supposed to complete a lightweight obstacle course on a slightly raised platform. The course involved jumping, swinging on ropes, and balancing on telephone poles and thick metal cables. Ben started near the front; he ended dead last. Worst of all, he had to smile and pretend to be good-humored about it as colleague after colleague passed him. Even Christina overtook him, after he refused her offer to haul him through the tough spots.

  After he finished drying off, Ben dressed, shaved, and descended to the ground floor of the bunkhouse for Crackerbarrel.

  Crackerbarrel?

  Chuck saw him first. “Hail, Ben Kincaid, mighty warrior!” he shouted, then snorted into a fistful of potato chips.

  Ben made a mental note that if he ever became uncommonly wealthy, he would devote all his resources to making Chuck’s life miserable. Ignoring Chuck, he found a spread of chips, veggies, and other snack foods laid out on the kitchen counter.

  Ben felt a sudden swat on the back. “Glad you made it in before midnight,” Herb said, grinning. “We were afraid we would have to release the dogs.”

  “Ha, ha,” Ben said, without much enthusiasm. “Very funny.”

  “Just a little humor, Kincaid. I’m sure a luminary of your stature can take it. Say, here’s a tip. Stay clear of Crichton tonight. He’s on the warpath. He’s been yelling at everyone in sight since we got back to the bunkhouse. No one can figure out why.”

  “Surely he didn’t yell at you, Herb.”

  Herb’s lips pursed. “He did. Threatened me within an inch of my job, the SOB. I know he’s your biggest fan, Kincaid, but I’d stay away from him just the same.”

  Herb passed through the food line and gravitated to the other side of the room, where Candice coincidentally happened to be standing.

  “Need help carrying your plate, mighty warrior?” Christina asked Ben.

  “Now I understand,” Ben said. “Crackerbarrel must mean gathering place for the great wits of the twentieth century.”

  “Oooh. Not the usual homme d’esprit, tonight, huh? Didn’t mean to offend. I’m just glad you’re here.”

  “So I can serve as the butt of your jokes?”

  “No, so you can protect me from Herbert the Pervert. What a lech that man is. Can’t keep his eyes—or his hands—to himself. Practically pawed me up in the chow line. And with Candice, me object of his amour fou, standing right beside me.”

  “Maybe he was using you as a diversion. You know, to throw everyone off the track.”

  Christina shivered. “More likely he’s just an insufferable toad.”

  Ben exited the snack line and took a seat at the table beside Doug, who was sitting with a plate full of tortilla chips and queso and, of course, his laptop computer.

  “I hear Crichton’s in a lousy mood tonight,” Ben said.

  “You are a master of understatement.”

  “He got to you, too?”

  Doug drew heavily on his cigarillo, then set it on the corner of his paper plate. “Oh, yes. Took my American Airlines litigation plan and threw it in my face. Told me to get back behind the typewriter where I belong.” He shoved a few chips in his mouth. “Stupid ass. Doesn’t know the difference between a PC and a typewriter.”

  “Who else incurred the wrath—” Ben’s sentence was cut off by a sudden outburst from the back of the room.

  “Good God, they’re at it again,” Doug said. “Like characters from a Noël Coward play.”

  “Who?”

  Doug pointed. Herb and Candice had finally managed to connect, so to speak.

  “You were pathetic today,” Candice said. “You run like a girl.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Herb retorted. “Well, you run like a man, not that that’s any big surprise.”

  “Dickhead.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Prick.”

  “Double bitch.”

  Ben turned back toward Doug. “Looks like they didn’t do much bonding today.”

  “I rather suspect that will come later tonight,” Doug replied.

  Ben suddenly became aware that Shelly was sitting opposite him. Had she been there all along, invisible as ever, or had she just mysteriously appeared? He couldn’t be sure.

  “Hi, Shelly. How’s everything?”

  She didn’t reply, but Ben did think he saw the corner of her upper lip twitch, which he took as a sign of encouragement.

  “Where’s your baby girl this weekend?”

  She looked at him strangely, as if startled to find someone actually noticing she was present. “Angie is at a twenty-four-hour day-care center,” Shelly said quietly. Her voice was almost as fragile as she was. “Costs a fortune, but Crichton insists we attend these retreats.”

  “Did Crichton yell at you, too?”

  “Of course not. He only yells at the ones he likes.”

  Ben thought about that for a moment. “Any chance of Dad looking after Angie? It’d be cheaper.”

  He immediately wished he could take it back. Her face flattened; her eyes became watery. “Not likely.”

  Ben tried to smooth over his unconscionable gaffe. “Must be tough, working full time and raising a baby on your own. How do you manage?”

  Before she had a chance to answer, Chuck plopped down at the table beside Ben. “Shelly, have you got that memo on the antitrust ramifications of the Ameritech deal?”

  “I-I thought this was supposed to be a no-work-allowed weekend.”

  “No excuses. Your memo is overdue.”

  “But you just gave me the assignment. And I’ve been buried in—”

  “I’m tired of your failure to deliver, Shelly. You’re skating on thin ice.”

  “Look, Chuck, I’ll get you the memo by Monday morning. I don’t know how, but—”

  Chuck snarled, picked up his plate, and walked away without saying another word.

  “What a charmer,” Ben murmured. “Look, Shelly, if I can help—” But she was already gone. She ran to the back of the room and raced up the stairs to the women’s bunks.

  Well, Ben thought sadly, at least Chuck left. But before he could derive any pleasure from the situation, Herb took the now empty seat beside him.

  “Ben,” Herb said, “I need your help.”

  “Why? D’you run out of synonyms for bitch?”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. What’s the problem?”

  “Well, you’ve known that Christina McCall babe for some time, right?”

  “Ye-es….”

  “So I thought you’d know best what to do.”

  “About what?”

  Herb leaned in closer. “Did you see her coming on to me?”

  “No, I missed that.”

  “Oh, man, she was practically panting. Not that that’s unusual, but I thought she was going to rip my clothes off and do me right then and there!”

  “Did you really?”

  “Not that I would mind, under the right circumstances. She’s a real looker, as I guess you know. Cute legs, boffo boobies. She really turns me on.”

  “Herb, I don’t want to hear about—”

  “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t treading on your toes. You know, first come, first served, I always say. Is there anything going on between you two?”

  “Well, nothing like that.”

  “Then the field is clear. Great! You know her better than I do. What do you recommend? So I can get close to her.”

  In a flash, Ben realized that a supremely humanitarian opportunity had arisen, if he could only suppress his nausea long enough to continue conversing with Herb. “If I were you, I’d play hard to get.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. She despises easy men. Be distant. Don’t speak to her. Have as little to do with her as possible. Before you know it, she’ll be on your doorstep modeling skimpy lace from Victoria’s Secr
et.”

  “Wow, that sounds great. You’re a regular guy, Ben.”

  “Well, I try.”

  Herb pushed away from the table. Ben felt better than he had since he’d arrived; he had done his good deed for the day. He suddenly noticed his new boss at the end of the table. Crichton pulled Ben aside.

  “Don’t let the teasing bother you, Kincaid. It’s only natural for the hoi polloi to feel threatened when a man of your stature joins the team.”

  “I’ll try to ignore them.” Ben changed the subject. “Shelly seems depressed tonight.”

  Crichton shrugged. “What else is new? Like most of her female colleagues, she’s never satisfied. Women fought for years to break into the marketplace, and now that they’re finally here, they realize, ‘Holy shit! This is hard! And I thought it would all just be one blissful enriching experience after another!’ ”

  Ben could feel his teeth tightening. “But surely you’ll agree that women should have an equal position in the marketplace.…”

  “If I’m being considered for the Supreme Court, yes. If I’m trying to take care of a major corporation, no. Female employees present all kinds of special difficulties, and the hell of it is, I’m not even allowed to ask about the concerns that affect my company most significantly.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as social life, marriage, pregnancy. If a woman comes looking for a job, I want to know if she’s on the executive track or the mommy track. But I can’t ask! The labor jocks tell me that if I ask that simple commonsense question about a matter that can have an enormous impact on her ability to perform her job and her likelihood of remaining here for any length of time, I could get slapped with a gender discrimination suit. Can you believe that? Hell, when we put our time and money on the line to train Shelly, we expected her to be in for the long haul. But damned if she doesn’t turn up pregnant. And she isn’t even married!”

  “But…she still seems to be working.”

  “Sure, sure. But it isn’t the same. She’s strictly an eight-to-fiver now. Complains that she has to pick up the baby at day care. Can you believe that?”

  “Well—”

  Before Ben could comment, Chuck forced himself into their conversation.

  “I was truly moved when you were explaining the Universal Yo!” Chuck told Crichton. “This has been a life-changing experience for me. It’s not often a grown man cries, but when you got to the part about facing the future unafraid, I wept like a baby.”

  Ben tried not to gag.

  Crichton smiled politely and tapped a spoon against a glass.

  “May I have your attention please?” The room quieted in a heartbeat. “Thank you. I want you all to know I was proud of what I saw in the field today. I always say, work hard, play hard, and today I saw a lot of hard play. I think some long-term relationships were forged in the sweat and dirt of those obstacle courses, and I saw some genuine, heartfelt trust during the Trust Fall.”

  Ben couldn’t see him, but he could definitely hear Chuck whisper: “ ’Cept for Kincaid. He didn’t trust. He just fell.”

  Crichton continued. “Tomorrow, each of you will confront the High Course. For many of you, this will be the greatest physical challenge you have ever faced. Even harder than today’s obstacle course six inches off the ground.”

  Is he really looking at me, Ben wondered, or am I just imagining it?

  “Nonetheless, I know each of you will meet the High Course head on, with the same spirit of trust, teamwork, and resourcefulness you bring to your work every day. Most importantly, I know you will bear in mind the critical elements of the Universal Yo! an open mind, a willingness to be flexible, and the courage to step out of the comfort zone. And win.”

  Ben was missing most of the rhetoric. He couldn’t seem to get past the part about the Greatest Physical Challenge You Have Ever Faced.

  Crichton lowered his voice and adopted a sepulchral tone. “Our office has been visited with great sadness this week. One of our own, Howard Hamel, a trusted, faithful colleague, has been taken from us for reasons that remain unclear. And yet, there is always a balance in the universe. For every day, a night. For every birth, a death. For every yin, a yang. And just as we are grieved to lose Howard Hamel, we are blessed to gain Benjamin Kincaid. Ben, stand up for a moment.”

  Ben’s throat went dry. Mortified, he pushed himself to his feet. A rather tepid round of applause followed.

  “Now hit the sack tonight, as early as possible. You’ll need your strength tomorrow, and your wits, so don’t stay up all night telling dirty jokes. Tomorrow morning, at six A.M. sharp, you will have your chance to be all that you can be, as you make your proactive assault on the High Course. God, I envy you. Good luck.”

  16

  BEN LEANED AGAINST a tree trunk, strips of thin neon webbing wrapped every which way around his pelvis and backside.

  “How do I look?” Ben asked.

  “Like a chic mountain climber,” Christina answered.

  “Very macho. But I think you got the Swiss seat wrong.”

  The Swiss seat was the name given to the particular manner in which the webbing was wound around a belayer so he could be linked relatively painlessly to the belay line. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Ben said. “It’s very complicated.”

  “True,” Christina replied. “And Crichton only went over it about fifteen times. Here, let me.” She bent down in front of Ben and started retying his seat.

  “Thanks. By the way, you look sharp in those cutoffs. But I know at least one gentleman who will be crushed that you’re not wearing skintight spandex.”

  “I wonder who that would be,” Christina muttered. “So what do you think of DARE so far?”

  “Well, as macho outdoor get-in-touch-with-yourself retreats go, I suppose it’s better than a bunch of naked men beating drums in the forest.”

  She relooped the main cord around Ben’s waist. “There, you’re fixed.”

  “And just in time.” Ben pointed at Crichton, who was crossing the top of the hill with some belaying equipment. He and Chuck were engaged in a serious-looking conversation. Probably another violation of the no-work-weekend rule, Ben thought.

  “All right, DARErs,” Crichton said, stepping into their midst, “assemble front and center.”

  Doug, Herb, and Candice disassembled their conversational huddle and looked raptly his way. Shelly, predictably enough, had been given lunch duty. She was spreading mayonnaise on sandwich bread, but when Crichton gave out the call to arms, she wrapped everything up and joined the rest of the group.

  “It’s time to confront the High Course,” Crichton announced. “Follow me.” Ben, Christina, and the rest of the Apollo legal crew followed Crichton across the top of the hill and down toward a nearby valley surrounded by tall oak trees.

  “Boy, just look at him,” Herb whispered to Ben. “He says march and just assumes everyone will march. Doesn’t even look behind to see if we’re following. How arrogant.”

  “Still stinging from last night, Herb?”

  “I don’t like my career being threatened.”

  Ben nodded. He saw Rob marching alongside. “Have you ever done this before?” Ben asked.

  “Oh, sure,” Rob replied.

  “And?”

  “Not to worry. Piece of cake. You’ll do fine. Unless, of course, you have a problem with heights.”

  “A problem with heights?” Ben whispered. “I’m terrified of heights. I can’t ride an escalator without getting sick. I had a panic attack once in a stairwell!”

  “In that case, I predict you’re in big trouble.”

  They descended into the valley. The trees formed an almost perfect circle, closing off the central meadow. Ben saw various wires and poles stretching between trees about sixty feet up in the air, and something that looked like a gigantic ladder hanging almost to me ground.

  “Surely we’re not going up where all those wires and other gizmos are?” Ben asked nervously.

  Rob smi
led, but didn’t answer.

  “This is the High Course,” Crichton announced, for the benefit of those who hadn’t managed to figure it out for themselves. “The general principles of belaying should be clear to you from yesterday’s exercises. Remember, you must overcome that me-against-them mentality. Teamwork is critical. One partner, the captain, remains on the ground, holding tight to your belay line. The line reaches up to the high wire, cycles through the wheel lock for support, then descends to me carabiner on your Swiss seat. It’s like a gigantic pulley system. As long as you’re harnessed to the line, and your captain doesn’t let go, you’re perfectly safe, whether you’re sixty feet in the air or six hundred feet in the air.”

  “But what if you’re afraid of heights?” Ben asked quietly.

  “Get over it.” Crichton walked to the large wood-and-wire ladder and pointed like a game show model. “This is the giant’s ladder. It is the initial means of assault. Standing on this tree stump, you grab the bottom rung of the ladder.” Crichton demonstrated, looping his hands around the four-by-four wooden plank he called the bottom rung. Then, leaping into the air, he swung his legs around the plank and pulled himself on top. Balancing himself by one of the two wires connecting the planks, he pulled himself upright. “Easy, isn’t it? And all you have to do is repeat that nine more times, and you’ll be sixty feet in the air.”

  “Nine more times?” Ben felt a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. “I don’t think I could do that once.”

  “If you simply can’t pull yourself up by your arms,” Crichton said, narrating as he climbed, “you can brace one foot against the connecting bolts on the wires. But that’s strictly for wimps and over-seventies.”

  Ben grimaced. “Seventy months, I hope he means.”

  Christina smiled. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m never gonna make it up that thing.”

  “I’m inclined to agree. By the way, Ben, have I mentioned recently what a brilliant idea this new job was?”