The Bee Keeper

by Vincent, Tracy D

“I’ll take a hot cup of tea, if you have that,” I respond, though everything below the belt is screaming I want to drink from her.

  “Coming right up.” She winks and disappears through the door.

  I roam around, adjusting myself, trying to make more room in my pants. The space really isn’t as large as it seems. The chairs are the type that seat two, not large enough to be a loveseat, but not small enough for a single person. They look comfortable. The hospital bed is simply that. A single person bed with restraint straps tucked underneath the bed lift. There must be some trials that might cause a person to harm themselves. Must be a good idea for the restraining straps.

  The rest of the room is rather unremarkable. I make it back to the chairs when she walks in carrying a tray. I walk to her, grab it from her, and take it to the chairs. I want to be comfortable and not sitting across from her at a table. I want to see her body when I talk with her. We take our seats, and she takes a quick sip of her tea.

  “Thanks again for coming, Mr. Champlain.”

  “Ed. Please. My father is Mr. Champlain.”

  She blushed and looked down. “Ed. Like I mentioned on the phone, the senator has asked us to look into…”

  “Meghan—can I call you Meghan?”

  “Y–yes you can, Mr.—I mean, Ed.” Her blush deepens and she sounds a little breathy.

  “I need to tell you, Meghan, that I think you’re extremely beautiful.” I’m not normally so blunt. Most women require finesse and subtlety, compliments and such to keep them on their toes. But when you are dealing with a woman this beautiful, you need to keep her off balance. The right amount of bluntness mixed with sincere compliments and a hint of vulnerability should have her eating out of my hand in no time.

  “Oh…well, thank you, Ed. If I can be so blunt, I think you are attractive too.” Her eyes widen as though she didn’t expect herself to say that. It takes all I have to not give into the smile threatening to split my face.

  “When this business is all over, can I take you out? I’m sorry if I’m so forward, but I can’t seem to help myself.” While half of that is true, it’s pure lust. With a body and face like hers, I find myself imagining the two of us in various positions, doing the most perverse things. Only, I wouldn’t share her with Monty and Richard. Oh, no. I want to tie her down in a hidden room and keep her there only for my pleasure.

  “Oh my! Mr. Champlain…I mean Ed…I don’t know…” she stammers, but her face has a delightful blush. I bet she’s imagining much the same things as I am.

  I move to her seat and sit on the edge and face her. She scoots over to make room as she turns to face me. I tilt her chin up with a finger, and she looks at me, the blue in her eyes disappearing as her pupils swell. I lean forward and brush my lips across hers.

  I feel her breath hitch and the teacup rattle. I lean back and take the cup from her and lay it on the table. “I’ll not do anymore. I just had to kiss you.”

  I move back to my chair and watch her. Her chest heaves and she stares at me. I grab my own cup and start to drink my cooling tea. I smile at her, not the smile I want to give, but I’m certain now that I’ll be deep in her tonight.

  “Mr.—Ed, we need to discuss business. I can’t get distracted. We’ll meet up tonight. I have your number. But to talk only.” She clears her throat and sits up straighter.

  “Sure, business now and pleasure later.” I drain the rest of the tea from my cup and lean forward to set it down on the table.

  The world tilts at an odd angle and my head starts to feel a little strange.

  “Ed! Are you okay?” Meghan rushes to my side and pushes me back against the cushions, pulling out a pin light from her lab coat pocket. Her shining it in my eyes pierces my brain.

  “Ugh. That hurts,” I say, closing my eyes and shielding them with my hands.

  “Ed! Ed!” Her voice sounds from far away like the world is pulling back from me.

  The fuck is happening?

  I can hear her moving around, but I feel like I’m in a vortex. I hear her talking to someone. Maybe they’ll figure out what’s going on. I try hard to open my eyes or say something but nothing is happening. Only this fog that’s wrapped around my brain. That bitch Regina has better not given me some incurable disease. I’ll fucking kill her twice.

  Hands grab my body and shuffle me over to a hard board. I can feel some pressure on my legs and chest, then suddenly there’s this weightless feeling and some jostling around. This doesn’t do shit to help this crazy thick feeling in my head. It only adds dizziness to the mix. I feel like I’m going to vomit. And just as suddenly the movement stops, and the pressure on my body goes away.

  The hands are back, turning me first on one side, then the other. This does not help my need to vomit and the bitter bile spews out of my mouth. They keep me on that side until the moment passes, and there’s a damp roughness on my face. They finally settle me back down and the nausea passes.

  It feels like I’m being sucked down into the blackness until I am no more.

  I come to with a suddenness that makes my head spin. I’m practically sitting upright before my eyes open, only to find that I can’t fully sit up. I can’t move my arms. I look down at myself. I’m in only my undershirt, and I find cuffs wrapped around each wrist. I glance further down to see my trousers are still there, but my shoes are gone as well. Shifting myself around, I find out my feet are bound, too. I’m lying in a bed with my hands and feet cuffed down. What the fuck did I do last night?

  I look around the room, the little dinette set in one corner, the oversized chairs in another. I crane my neck and see a door by the bed. I don’t remember coming to a hotel like this one. I look down at the bed and realize this is a hospital bed, complete with side rails. Then the memories come flooding back.

  I came here with Meghan—Dr. Staples—and we were to discuss the senator’s business, when my world went crazy. I see my jacket and button-up shirt sitting nearby with what’s obviously vomit on it. That explains my partial dress.

  I fall back onto the bed, my head still feeling thick as momentary waves of dizziness come over me. The door behind my head opens and closes.

  “Oh good, you’re awake. How’s the head feeling?” I look up and find Meghan making her way to me with a dimpled smile on her face.

  “You can uncuff me now. I’m not going to fall off the bed or anything. What happened anyways?” My tongue feels thick in my mouth, which feels like cotton.

  She offers me a straw, and I take a draw off it. The cool water coats my mouth and soothes the rawness of my throat. It also reminds me that I’d recently puked as remnants of the bitter yuck wash down as well.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, Mr. Champlain. I didn’t figure that you’d hop on up there willingly so I drugged your tea enough to make it easier on us. Sorry about the vomiting, though. Sometimes that’s a by-product.”

  My ears couldn’t have heard her right. “What do you mean, you drugged my tea?”

  “I mean that I do have business to discuss with you, which the senator has asked us to research for him. However, judging by your past actions, you wouldn’t have been easy to question from over there”—she indicates the chairs with a swing of her hand—“so we made it easier on everyone and sedated you enough to bring you over here so we can talk.”

  The smile never leaves her face. Gone is the blushing woman who was showing all the signs of being attracted to me. Her face, though seemingly friendly, has a detached coolness about it now.

  “Wait, I’m confused. You have to tie me down to talk about the senator’s business? Excuse me if I’m not really buying into this kinky game. What could you need to discuss with me that would require this?” I jerk my arms around letting the restraints rattle against the bed rails.

  “Mr. Champlain, I know this doesn’t make any sense at this moment, but I assure you, it will soon enough. I really just need some basic questions answered for baseline readings and then you’ll be speaking to my colleagu
e Dr. Jack Miller. He’s the one who’s handling this interview mostly. I just get the basic information. Oh and while you were out, we drew blood and started an IV.” She pulls a dinette chair over and sets a laptop on her legs.

  “We’ll start with the basics, okay? What’s your full name?”

  “Edward Harrison Champlain. Why do we need this again for the senator’s business?” The fogginess has my head twisted nine ways to Sunday.

  “We just want to make one hundred percent certain that we have who we’re supposed to have before we start questioning. Surely you can appreciate that since the senator values his privacy.

  “Alright then, anything I can do to help the senator. You don’t have to leave me restrained, though.” Compliance. That’s always the key, make them think that you are on their side and that you acquiesce to their wants and needs and you’ll eventually get what you want.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Champlain, but they have to remain for the time being. If Dr. Miller thinks that they need to be removed, he’ll do so.” She glanced up with an apologetic expression on her face.

  “Alright then, I’ll just have to wait on Dr. Miller then. Next question, because the sooner I talk with him, the sooner I’ll be released.” I let my impatience show through, enough to let her know I’m unhappy—which is natural under these circumstances—but still compliant to their demands. It’s all part of the game.

  “Your father’s name is Harrison Champlain and your mother’s is Anita Champlain, née Boudreaux, correct?”

  “Yes, those’re my parents.”

  “When is your birthdate?”

  “June 22, 1991.”

  “And you are good friends with Geoffrey Wright, Jr, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long have you been friends, Mr. Champlain?” She asks all this while her fingers are clacking on her keyboard. The noise is intensifying my headache. This shit needs to hurry up.

  “Hmmm, let’s see. We’ve been friends since pretty much kindergarten. We attended Dartmond Academy together and then we attended Ingleton University together.”

  “What are your degrees in, Mr. Champlain?”

  “Political Science and Law.” My head is pounding and at this moment, I have this inexplicable urge to pound my fist into her face.

  “You’re dating Miss Maya Hauer, daughter of philanthropist Timo Hauer, is that correct?” She glances up at me then, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. Could Meghan be interested in me after all?

  “Yes. She’s my girlfriend of three years. I met her through a fundraiser that Mr. Hauer was throwing for Senator Wright.”

  Her eyes remain deadpanned on me while she is typing on her laptop. Interesting. She’s jealous. I tuck that information away to be used later.

  “How did you come to work for the senator?”

  “I’ve been best friends with his son since we were in school and I wanted a career in politics so he took me under his wing and I became an intern. Simple, really.”

  “Who’s Regina Worthington?”

  “A co-worker in the senator’s office.” Now this line of questioning makes me a little nervous, especially after our conversation this afternoon.

  “According to our sources, you’ve been having an affair with her for around a year; is that also correct, Mr. Champlain?”

  “Off and on, yes,” I grit out.

  “Does she also handle the senator’s affairs or is it just you?”

  “I’m not exactly sure what you’re asking, Dr. Staples.”

  “Does she schedule things into the senator’s day planner or does she check his correspondence before it gets to him, or is that just you?”

  “That’s my job. She has other duties.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Those are all the questions at the moment. I’ll let Dr. Miller know you’re ready for him.” She smiles and stands, folding her laptop as she does so. She takes a couple of steps and looks at me. “Ed, be as honest with Dr. Miller as you have been with me.” She then walks out the door.

  The door opens again a few minutes later. I don’t bother turning my head to look at the woman walking in. She probably forgot something and frankly, the pounding in my head is making it hard for me to keep my temper in check.

  “Hello,” a masculine voice starts, causing me to open my eyes. He’s of average height and build, his brown hair is thinning, and he has a closely cropped beard. He’s wearing a lab coat like Meghan’s, only his is unbuttoned and showing a T-shirt with some geeky science saying on it. His jeans are crisp and he’s wearing sneakers. Definitely not what I imagined coming through that door.

  “My name is Jack, and I’ll be asking you some questions. Some will be easy and some won’t be. I just ask that you be as cooperative with me as you were with Dr. Staples and this won’t be so hard on you.” He positions himself in the chair that Meghan left at the bedside.

  “Hello, Jack,” I say, committing his face to memory. For some reason I’m not entirely sure I understand, I do not like him. He feels off to me. His name, however, feels vaguely familiar. Fucking drugs, this is why I don’t do all the shit that Geoff does. I hate this fuzzy-headed feeling. “Dr. Staples said that this is in regard to the senator’s business and that if you felt comfortable enough, you’d release me. I can assure you, I won’t run. I want to get to the bottom of this business as much as you do.”

  When I was tied up around Meghan, I didn’t feel at a disadvantage, even though she could have done whatever she wanted with me. But around Jack, I feel the need to be on equal ground, and being restrained in this way is making me very nervous. Maybe it is because he’s a man, maybe it is whatever it is I feel coming from him, I don’t know. All I know is, I need to be on full guard with him.

  “In due time, Mr. Champlain.” He shifts around on the seat, lifting one foot to place it on the other knee, leaning back against the chair. “Shall we get started?”

  He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Dr. Staples said that you and the senator’s son have been friends since you were in boarding school together and you even went to the university together. Were your parents friends with his before that time?”

  “Hmm, I don’t think so. We were so little at the time that I couldn’t be certain.”

  “Did they ever mention a time of knowing the Wrights before you became friends with Geoffrey Jr.?”

  “Not that I recall. Why?” This line of questioning really has me confused. What do my parents have to do with the senator’s business? What do my parents have to do with anything?

  “Just trying to figure something out, following a thread of truth, if you will.” His cool, assessing gaze pins me down.

  “Okay…”

  “How much have your parents shared about your family background with you?”

  “Um, I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking.”

  “You know you come from old money, but in recent years your family has had to sell off much of your assets, correct?”

  “Yes, my father has mentioned something about it. He said it was due to some poor investments in the past that have cost our family.” I’m really uncomfortable with this line of questioning because I really don’t know much about the family history. My father always said he would tell me, but he has yet to do so.

  “Has he told you why they’ve had to do it?”

  “No. Can I ask what this has to do with the senator?”

  “In due time, Edward. How well would you say you know Timo Hauer, the philanthropist?” His unwavering gaze is really starting to unnerve me. What is up with this guy?

  “I guess I know him fairly well. I am not privy to his private dealings, but I am over to his house frequently as a guest of his daughter’s.” I’m not going to volunteer more information than I need to. I have a bad feeling about all this.

  “You’re dating her, aren’t you? You’ve been together for a few years, right?” He shifts again, this time leaning forward.

  “Yes, I told Dr. Staples as much.”


  “Do your parents know Mr. Hauer as well, or is it only because of your and Miss Hauer’s relationship?”

  “They’ve dealt with him a few times prior to my dating Maya. Mr. Hauer has been over to our house a few times. Business.”

  “You became an intern for Senator Wright so you could get into politics. Even though you knew he was trying to groom his son for the Senate position. What place did you hope to get if Junior was being prepared for that position?”

  “Hartford isn’t the only town, Jack. I could take my political aspirations elsewhere.”

  “This is true. However, you’re getting serious with Ms. Hauer and we both know she’s not going to leave Hartford, so what position did you hope to get here, Edward?” Jack’s focus sharpens on my face, as though he already knows the answer to this.

  “Councilman, or maybe even lieutenant senator.” Which is a total lie, because Geoffrey doesn’t deserve to be a senator, he hasn’t done anything to deserve all that his father has given him already.

  “Are you sure about that? Lieutenant senator is appointed by the senator and councilmen are only important in their own jurisdictions. If you wanted to be a councilman, you could be doing that already. No, I think your goal is to be senator. Which is funny, because you’d go against the senator’s wishes for your own goals. You’d even go against your best friend.”

  “Geoffrey doesn’t want to be the senator, and I think the senator is finally getting that point.” I say quickly.

  “You might be right. But how would Junior feel knowing that you’d planned to usurp a position he’s been taught was his? Just think about it. Moving on to other topics. You are the one in charge of the senator’s day planner, are you not?” At my nod, he continues, “You also handle any sensitive issues that come up for him, correct?”

  This is treading dangerous ground; answering this truthfully could have bad implications for me as well as the senator. “Yes, I am the one who handles his schedule. Also, any correspondence that comes in, goes through my desk first. ‘Sensitive issues’ are a rare occurrence, but it’s been known to happen. We all have pasts, Dr. Miller.”