Deadly Justice

15

BEN STARED HOPELESSLY AT the map.

“I’m sorry, Christina. I’m lost.”

Christina clicked her right turn signal and pulled onto the side of the road. “I knew I shouldn’t let you navigate. You have no sense of direction whatsoever.”

“I offered to drive.”

“Yeah, but then we’d have to take that beat-up Honda of yours, and I don’t, carry enough life insurance for that. Your Honda is seriously déclassé. When are you going to get a new car, anyway?”

“After Apollo makes me wealthy beyond my dreams of avarice.”

“Any day now.” She tugged at the map. “Here, let me.”

He resisted the tug. “I’m perfectly capable of reading a map.”

“I know,” Christina said. “Unfortunately, you’re reading it upside down.” She took the map from him and turned it right side up. “Now this could solve a lot of your navigational problems.”

“Is it my fault the orientation wasn’t clearly marked?”

Christina declined to comment. “I’ve been turning left off this dirt road when I should’ve been turning right. Which more than likely explains why I keep missing Camp Sequoyah.”

“Well, speed it up. We’re late.”

“Aye, aye, commandant.” She started the car and returned to the road. “Personally, I’m suspicious of anything that takes place this far from civilization as we know it. What is this DARE retreat, anyway?”

“All I know is that DARE stands for Daunting Athletic Ropes Encounter, and frankly, that’s more than I want to know. The schedule says we have Training Exercises at noon, Crackerbarrel at eight, and tomorrow, at six A.M., something called the High Course.”

“I don’t much care for the sound of that.”

“Ditto. But Crichton seems to think this is important. Fosters team bonding and leadership skills and all that rot. And something called the Universal Yo!”

“I hope he’s right. Personally, I haven’t bonded too much in my short time at Apollo.”

“Well, maybe Crackerbarrel will do the trick. I’m sure Herb will be there. Mark my words, you’re going to love Herb.”

Christina spotted the overhead arch that announced they had arrived at Camp Sequoyah. “You’re too late. I’ve already met Herb. Great guy. Real savoir faire. The whole time we talked, his eyes never rose above breast-level.”

“Well, maybe Candy will keep him in line.”

Christina drove down the narrow country road that led to the main campsite. “I don’t see a parking lot.”

“Nor do I think you’re likely to. Just watch for a lot of other cars. I’m sure Herb and Chuck have been here for hours buttering up Crichton.”

“Ben, do you really think you should be doing this? So soon after the murder, I mean?”

“Christina, I’ve got one week to find out who killed Hamel. And my best modus operandi is to find out whatever I can about these legal eagles. And what better way to do that than here, at this corporate pressure cooker, where all my chief suspects are conveniently gathered?”

She tapped her fingers pensively on the steering wheel. “I suppose you’re right….”

“So what’s your problem?”

She pulled her car beside a row of BMWs and Land Rovers. “My problem is, it’s entirely possible that one of these legal eagles has committed murder, and we’re now about a million miles from any kind of help. If the killer finds out you’re after him, he or she may be tempted to give a repeat performance. With you in the starring role. Capeesh?”

Ben fumbled with his overnight bag. “Well…when you put it like that…”

Ben trailed in from the training exercises about eight-thirty, a portrait of complete exhaustion. He and his colleagues had been training since noon; it seemed like forever.

He stumbled through the door of the stone bunkhouse and found to his dismay that everyone else in the group was standing at the bar, fully showered and changed, staring at him.

“Have a bit of trouble with the last group of exercises?” Chuck chuckled. “Everyone else has been back for half an hour.”

“I have a problem with heights,” Ben muttered. “Ever since I was a kid.”

“I can see where that would make it hard to finish the course,” Chuck replied. “After all, you were almost six inches off the ground.”

“Hey!” Crichton interceded. “We’re here to bond, not to denigrate. This is Ben’s first time on the course. Cut him some slack.”

Thanks, Dad. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Please do,” Candice tittered.

Ben mounted the stairs, threw his clothes on his bunk, and crawled into the shower. The day had been filled with a variety of exercises designed to teach noble workplace skills such as teamwork, mutual trust, assertiveness, and leadership, via sixth-grade problem-solving scenarios. Transporting five people across a ravine with three two-by-fours. Lifting one another through the spider’s web (a vertical lattice of latex webbing). Moving “toxic waste” (a glass of water) to safety on a rope swing—while blindfolded. All peppered with inspirational lectures about the Universal Yo!

The worst was the Trust Fall. Victims—er, participants—were supposed to climb to a platform about seven feet up a tree, turn around, fold their hands across their chests (very symbolic), and fall. Backwards. The idea was that your bosom buddies on the ground would catch you in their outstretched but unlinked arms. That was the idea, anyway. You were supposed to trust that they would be there, even though you couldn’t see them as you fell. Unfortunately, Ben didn’t trust any of them, except Christina, and he knew she couldn’t catch him by herself.

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 Secret.”

“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.”