Hotel Hideaway: (Soldiering On #4)

by Aislinn Kearns

  “Are you saying Erica planted the evidence against Cameron?”

  An approving smile curved the assassin’s lips. “Yes. A preemptive move, since she didn’t know your plan against her.”

  Horror churned in Sam’s gut. “He’s innocent?” she whispered, more to herself than the assassin.

  “Of course.”

  Guilt and shame choked Sam, and tears pricked her eyes. She should have trusted him, shouldn’t have let her fear get in the way of what she knew to be true—that Cameron was a good man. Would Cameron forgive her? He must be hurt and horrified she’d been so quick to turn on him.

  She swallowed back the piercing pain and refocused her attention on the matter at hand.

  “Thank you,” Sam said sincerely. She wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t have some doubts as to the assassin’s words, but her scenario made so much more sense than the idea Cameron could be a killer. The pieces fit. She sucked in a deep breath, and her mind finally cleared, the tight band around her chest loosening to almost nothing.

  “You’re welcome,” the assassin said simply.

  They shared a smile.

  “You do realise I still have to call the police, right?” Sam asked.

  “I do,” the assassin replied. She didn’t seem concerned.

  Sam dialled and explained the situation. Then, she called Duncan while she waited for the cops to arrive.

  “I missed your call. Everything okay?” Sam asked. “Did Zack get to Cameron all right?”

  A bustling noise and the roar of an engine sounded in the background. Sam concentrated so she could hear Duncan’s reply.

  “Cameron had left by the time Zack got there. We’re going after him,” Duncan told her with a raised voice to project over the sound of the vehicle.

  “Left?” Sam asked, her heart jumping into her throat. “To go where?”

  “We think he’s gone to the event. For what, we’re not sure yet.”

  “Shit. He can’t. He’ll get himself killed.” Her heart slammed against her rib cage. She couldn’t let him die—not now, before she apologised, not ever.

  “Does that matter?” Duncan growled.

  “Yes,” Sam said forcefully. “He’s innocent. Erica planted the evidence against him to set him up for her crime.”

  “How do you know?” Duncan asked, curiosity and disbelief colouring his tone.

  “The assassin told me. The one that tried to kill Cameron.”

  “What?” Duncan asked. “How the hell—”

  “Never mind. All that matters is he’s innocent.”

  “You trust this assassin?”

  Sam glanced over at the woman still chained serenely to the radiator. “Yeah. I trust her. In this at least.”

  “Okay. Well, we’re on our way to the event. Want to join us?”

  “You bet. Pick me up on your way. Hopefully the cops will be done by the time you get here.”

  Chapter 21

  People in expensive clothing filled the large ballroom. Waiters in white dinner jackets moved through the crowd, passing around canapes and various forms of alcohol. The guests looked happy and well-liquored, and Cameron didn’t know whether or not to be pleased by that.

  A woman in the corner of the room scribbled notes on a rectangular pad of paper. A journalist. Good. He’d need as many of them as possible to witness tonight’s event and report it to the world. The plan wouldn’t work without it.

  Cameron swept his gaze across the room again, landing on his mark for the evening. Erica held a glass of champagne, her hair swept up in a complicated knot, her dress clinging to her curves. She looked icily beautiful and dangerous, but perhaps Cameron was projecting based on what he knew of her.

  He had no doubt whatever Sam had discovered about him, Erica had planted it. He tried not to blame Sam for believing the lies—he knew how convincing and thorough Erica could be. Clearly Erica had a countermove planned, and Cameron had to be on his guard.

  But it wasn’t her that interested him right now, but the man standing by her side.

  Cameron guessed he was early forties, and unused to ritzy events by the way he tugged on his suit in discomfort. His eyes darted around the room, not concentrating on Erica or her companion. Cameron couldn’t know for sure it was Jason, but the two of them had stuck together like glue since Cameron had arrived, so he figured it would be a good bet.

  Now he had to come up with a plan. Maybe if he lured the guy away he could take him in a fight? But, no, a man that made his living as an assassin would probably be pretty skilled in combat. He’d have to take him by surprise—one quick blow. But then what? Would he kill the guy, and become the man Sam had accused him of being? It didn’t matter Jason was an awful man, Cameron would still have to kill him in cold blood, if that’s the route he wanted to take.

  He wasn’t sure he could go through with it. Though the blood pumping through his veins urged with every throb to fight and conquer his enemy, his more logical mind shied away from the idea.

  Maybe he could goad Jason into a fight, but have the cops catch him in the act and arrest him? Surely once they had him in custody they would find proof for a number of his crimes. It wasn’t the kind of biblical justice his heart craved, but it would satisfy his mind to have a man like that in an eternal cage.

  Sam would probably know what to do. Cameron missed her presence at his side—both her protection, her strategic mind, and her company. He hadn’t noticed how used to her he’d gotten over the last few weeks, to the point that now she was gone his heart ached in places he hadn’t known existed, simply because she wasn’t there.

  Would Sam believe him, if he told her again of his innocence? He couldn’t be sure. Couldn’t be sure she cared enough about him to overcome her fears.

  He had to expose Erica—for his own safety, for justice, and so Sam would see Erica pulled her strings.

  He slipped into the crowd, and locked his mask in place. He chatted quickly with clients that greeted him, but kept moving inexorably towards the media setup next to the stage. The instant Erica noticed him, a shiver ran down Cameron’s spine. Now, he was prey.

  He stopped to talk to a balding man and his wife. If he remembered correctly, Beaton had provided the security guards for an office building they owned downtown. Cameron continued the conversation until the tingling in his neck vanished, indicating Erica had been mollified by his seemingly normal behaviour. He said goodbye to the couple and once again manoeuvred towards the media centre.

  A bored young man sat behind a laptop, staring at all the attendees with a glazed expression.

  “Hey,” said Cameron, dropping his mask a little.

  The guy straightened. “’Sup.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Andy.”

  “Hi Andy, I’m Cameron. Will you be in control of the screens during the speeches?” Impatience dogged at him, telling him he didn’t have much time before Erica spotted him. He shuffled over, partially obscuring himself behind a large potted fern.

  Andy eyed him a little oddly. “Yeah.”

  “Cool. I’m the CEO of Beaton, and I need a bit of a favour. There’s been a change in the slides, so can I give you the new file?” He resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder to see who might be watching. Don’t act suspicious.

  “Sure man, no problem.”

  Cameron slid the USB from his pocket and handed it to him. “There’s audio. Important audio. Does that matter?”

  Andy’s brow furrowed. “The last one didn’t have audio. It’s not hooked up.”

  “Is it an easy fix?” Cameron’s hands growing clammy as he waited for an answer. He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

  Andy glanced around. “If I can find the right cables, yeah. They should be here somewhere.”

  Cameron exhaled heavily. “If I give you ten minutes, do you think you could solve it?”

  The roar of noise from the crowd suddenly grew louder, so Cameron had to bend down to hear Andy’s answer.
/>   “Yeah, that should be fine.”

  “Great,” Cameron tried to smile but wasn’t sure he managed it. Nerves pinged through him, making it hard to hold onto the mask he’d so painstakingly built. “If anyone other than me asks you to turn it off, ignore them. There’ll be a massive tip in it for you if you pull it off.”

  Andy’s eyes brightened. “Sure thing.”

  Cameron slipped back into the crowd and hoped Erica hadn’t noticed him. Everything was ready for the big moment.

  He simply had to see it through.

  ◆◆◆

  Sam, Duncan, Blake, and Zack arrived at the hotel as the speeches started. Perfect timing.

  A security guard tried to stop them from entering the event, but since Sam’s name was on the list as the plus one of the CEO, he did an abrupt about turn when he discovered the connection.

  As they slipped into the room, Danny was already on stage, telling some vaguely sexist joke that made Sam roll her eyes. The lights had been dimmed to accommodate the stage lighting, making it difficult for Sam to spot Cameron in the crowd. The urge to talk to him was overwhelming, but she tried to stay focused on the task at hand—make sure Erica accepted her fate quietly, protect Cameron, and get everyone out alive.

  The four of them drew the attention of those closest to them. Not surprising really. Duncan and Blake were tall and broad, straining their suits at the seams. Zack was tall, too, but not quite the height of either of the other two men. He had scarring down the right-hand side of his face that caused some curious stares. And Sam herself, dressed in a loose-fitting skirt and top. Certainly not an outfit that complemented the expensive gowns most other women wore, but it was functional, and Sam had a horrible dread she would need clothes she could fight in.

  They hovered at the back of the room until Danny finished his speech. As people clapped politely, Sam turned to Duncan and stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

  “I’ll find Cameron. Keep an eye on Erica.”

  “Sure. We’ll fan out, too,” he replied.

  Sam gave a nod to the three men and then slipped into the crowd as Erica came on stage, beaming.

  “Hello all. Thank you for coming to our little party tonight,” Erica said into the microphone. “I’ll be doing a rundown of the company’s last ten years before we kick off all the thank yous, so bear with me!”

  Anticipation beat through Sam with every throb of her pulse. She had no idea if Cameron had switched the files, but she had to assume he had. Would it be this easy? Would it all go to plan?

  She tried to see Cameron in the crowd—it shouldn’t be hard, given his height, but he was nowhere to be found. She glanced back to the stage.

  Erica began her speech. The visuals behind her flickered on, but instead of the presentation she’d made, a photograph of Cameron and his brother as children lit the screen. A few ‘awww’s came from the crowd, no one having any idea the true character of the company they trusted was about to be exposed.

  “This is me and my brother,” said Cameron’s voice through the speakers. “We were close as children and into adulthood. That is, before he was murdered. By Erica Daintree, Danny Garcia, Jason Turner, and the entire team at Beaton.”

  The crowd rumbled, whispering to each other in shocked voices. Erica stood in shock, the light of the stage beating down on her. She abruptly spun toward the audio guy and made the cut symbol against her throat, but he shrugged and shook his head. Erica stomped over to him as Cameron’s voice continued the tale of what had happened. The crowd had stilled, almost unnaturally, listening silently to the unfolding story echoing through the room.

  Erica said something heated to the media guy, who shook his head again. Even from this distance Sam could see Erica’s fury.

  She lifted the microphone. “Security!” she yelled, and the crowd winced at the piercing feedback that burst from the speakers.

  Sam stood on tiptoes to see above the crowd. Duncan, Blake and Zack ran interference with the security trying to push through. Erica, clearly furious, threw the microphone on the ground and jumped off the stage and into the media area. The young man sitting there nearly fell over in his effort to stand quickly. Erica pulled random cables in an absolute frenzy. The young man tried to stop her and got an errant hand to the face in the process.

  Sam gave up looking for Cameron and pushed through the crowd towards Erica instead. Erica must have pulled the right cable because the feed went dead. But it was too late. Most of the information had been broadcast. The crowd was agitated now, pressing forward to the stage.

  “Is this true?” asked a male voice above the hubbub.

  “Have we been funding terrorism?” asked another, slightly more hysterical voice.

  “Can we get a refund?”

  “What the hell is this all about?”

  Sam grinned at the irate crowd heckling Erica as she levered herself back onto the stage. She picked up the microphone and cleared her throat.

  “Of course everything just said was slanderous lies.” Her smile was like a charming snake, completely cold-blooded. “There’s no truth to any of these accusations. Our CEO likely levelled them at me and Beaton because he’s been caught using Beaton resources for nefarious activities. He’s trying to turn it around on us, but rest assured he will be dealt with shortly.”

  Erica’s smile wobbled as the crowd continued to grumble. “Perhaps we should carry on with the festivities?” she asked.

  Sam’s heart fluttered against her rib cage, panic making her palms sweat. Erica could win this crowd over. All their hard work could be for nothing.

  “Pretty coincidental, isn’t it?” she asked. “You accuse the former CEO of having delusions and paranoia, and the current CEO of crimes you, yourself, committed. You’re the common denominator here.”

  “We’ve had some bad luck,” Erica countered.

  “What about the assassins sent after the CEO?” Sam called desperately. “Those are on public record, you can’t dispute they existed.”

  Erica’s sharp eyes found Sam in the crowd. “You mean, the CEO that applied for the job under false pretences?” she sneered. “I know all about that. We thought it would be best to keep him close, so we could keep an eye on him and step in when we needed to. He’s the traitor, not me.”

  No wonder Cameron hadn’t got anywhere in his investigation. Erica had taken the ‘keep your enemies closer’ adage to heart, knowing all along what Cameron was doing. She would have blocked him at every turn, with false information or dummy files. It was the kind of genius Sam should have expected from Erica.

  Sam glared at the woman on the stage who still oozed confidence. “He was doing it for his brother,” she gritted out, trying to find the emotional button that would pull the crowd to her side.

  “So why not go to the authorities? Totally suspicious behaviour. God knows what he did to set assassins on his tail,” Erica hissed. “But it wasn’t me.”

  “Where’s your proof?” Sam asked, her teeth bared in a smile. “We have evidence that you tried to have him killed, so where’s your counterproof? Or is this all just more lies?”

  The crowd shifted, the swell of support leaning in Sam’s direction. She just had to fluster Erica enough for her to explode, revealing her true character to the crowd. This was a trial by public opinion. She didn’t need evidence, she only needed enough people in this crowd to believe it.

  All eyes were on her, and her throat closed in panic. She hated being the centre of attention, but she needed to do this—for Cameron. She straightened her spine and looked Erica in the eye.

  “It’s gone too far, Erica. Too many people have been hurt and killed, and your fingerprints are all over it. You need to answer for your crimes.”

  “I didn’t do anything!” Erica yelled, her voice reaching fever pitch.

  “No, you just hired people to do it. And those people are ready to testify. You all heard Frank on the tape, the former CEO,” Sam said, turning to look at the crowd. “He died the morn
ing after he told us all that, by Erica’s orders. She’s trying to cover her tracks and blame others for her sins. Don’t let her fool you.”

  “How dare you?” Erica spat, fire in her eyes.

  “You’re the one who killed people,” Sam shouted back.

  The crowd let out a spontaneous cheer, and Sam knew they were on her side. Erica’s eyes widened as she realised she wouldn’t win, not now. The microphone fell from her grip, clattering to the stage with a thunk that echoed through the speakers. She spun around, looking for an exit, and only seeing an angry, riled up crowd beneath her.

  “Jason!” she called. “Get me out of here!” But there was no reply.

  The crowd surged forward, yelling about refunds, money, and a whole bunch of other discontent. Erica backed up until she hit the wall, her eyes darting desperately around the room. Sam levered herself onto the stage, and a few people tried to follow her. Erica stared at her in horror.

  “You don’t know what you’ve done. They’ll come for you. They’ll come for you all.”

  Sam had no idea who she was talking about, so just shrugged. “We’ll be ready,” she replied, which was true enough. This move tonight would not be without repercussions, but they’d be prepared.

  Erica crept to the side of the stage, and Sam let her go. She had no authority to detain the woman, and the point was to destroy her reputation, not have her arrested, no matter how much she deserved it. The police would catch up to her if they launched an investigation based on the journalists’ articles that would no doubt go to press tomorrow or the day after.

  When Erica saw Sam didn’t intend to follow, she darted off the stage and out the side door, the angry yells of clients following her, some even tugging at her clothes as she passed.

  Even before Erica had cleared the room, Sam could see a number of clients on their phones, asking to stop payments, cancel contracts, and generally extricating themselves from doing business with Beaton. Sam grinned. The plan had worked. If nothing else, they could destroy the company professionally, and Erica personally.