James watched Benny walk out the door, wanting to kill him. How dare he try to scare him by lying to him? What did he think he would gain by making such an outrageous statement? No one would dare to try to take him out. He was Jared James. He was a rich and important man. He was somebody. People would notice if he was gone or missing. Of course gone and missing was not what Barnhart was good at. Erased was what the report had said. He erased his targets. James just could not believe, would not believe, he was the reason Barnhart was in Vegas. How outrageous was that idea?
He paced and ranted, going back and forth across the room like a duck in a shooting gallery. Suddenly, in mid stride, James stopped in front of the big glass window showing the strip he had been admiring shortly before. A voice in his head that would not be denied screamed until he felt his head would explode. “It’s true, it’s all true. YOU'RE NEXT! Think, what are you going to do about this? You have been given one chance to beat Barnhart to the punch and save yourself. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” James repeated over and over. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t think.” All of a sudden James fell to the floor, face down and flat as a pancake. Oh my God, he thought, OH MY GOD. I’ve been walking in front of the window and I could have been shot. Just like in the movies, a bullet being fired from a long way off and coming through the window to splatter my head all over the walls.
Deciding he had to get away from the windows, Jared crawled across the floor, hugging the walls, looking like a crab, his arms and legs pulling and pushing, with his rear poking up as if it was suspended by wire from the ceiling. He made it to the corner of the room and sat with his back pressed tightly against the wall. Sweat dripped down his shirt collar and a dark stain was beginning to grow in his pants. Fear did funny things to people, making them cower, or in some, charge into the fray, having no plan, just reacting. It seemed James was in the first group. Weeping, shaking, and being unable to think straight, he sat where he was, not moving, not thinking, until the same little voice once again intruded.
“Get up, you coward. Get moving and make a plan. Make it a good one. Use the opportunity you have tomorrow night to your advantage. Barnhart does not suspect anything and if he shows at the opening, you could have someone get to him when the music is loud and the crowd is three sheets to the wind. No one would notice a man slumped in the corner, until it was too late to figure out who had done the deed.”
Yeah, yeah that sounded good. That sounded just like it might just work. Good thing he came up with it, James thought to himself. Some of his confidence and bravado returned, as he stood up on his slightly shaking legs. He looked around the room and made sure he was alone. He was good. No one had witnessed his moment of weakness. “No, not weakness,” he told himself. He had not been himself for a minute, that was all. Something had come over him, something he could not explain. He’d just pretend this little incident had never happened. In fact he was now sure it never had. It had just been a waking dream.
James looked down at his clothes and cringed. He hurried into his room, stripped off the wet, stained offenders and took a hot shower. He needed it to calm his nerves and marshal his thoughts. He spent a long time under the stream of hot water, emerging only when the water had turned cold and he was totally in control again.
Emerging from the bathroom, he was no longer scared. In fact he was just the opposite, he was angry. He was past angry. No one was going to off him. No one was going to even get the chance to try. Sam Barnhart was the one going down.
James pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. When the call connected, he did not bother with a greeting, but barked his order into the phone. “Get in here, now!” He did not wait for an answer from the party on the other end, but snapped the phone closed almost before the command was completed. A full thirty seconds later, the door was opened and both of his guards came in. He looked from one to the other before deciding which one he needed.
“You,” he said pointing at Benny, “stay.”
“You,” he said to the other one, “go, but I’ll need you later.”
Benny stayed where he was until they were alone. “What do you need?” he asked.
Jared stood before him, his legs spread, arms folded over his chest, brows drawn together in a frown, a challenging look in his cold eyes. “Since you are so sure that Barnhart is going to hit me, I’m giving you the assignment of taking him out. Tomorrow night at the opening. I want it quiet,” he said. “When the dancing is going strong and the drinking has almost everyone on their heels, I want him stuck and left in a booth. Make it look like he is just sleeping or passed out when you carry him to the booth,” he instructed Benny.
Benny looked at James, thoughts running rampant in his brain as he absorbed what James had just instructed him to do. “He wanted him to kill a man for him. Guess who was going to take the fall if it was discovered he was the one to put the knife in Barnhart? It wouldn’t be him,” Benny vowed. “At least not alone. He would sing like a bird and take James down with him.”
Benny looked at James and said out loud, “Sure boss, I’ll do this for you.”
James had never had a doubt and nodded his head. He opened his mouth to speak but Benny interrupted him before he could begin.
“Quarter mil,” he said.
“What?” James asked in disbelief.
“You heard me,” Benny said. “I want a quarter of a million dollars to do what you want done or you can find yourself another boy.”
James’ eyes closed to a mere slit and his face took on a reddish hue. “I already pay you a sinful wage. Now you want more?”
Benny stood his ground and replied, “You want me to commit murder for you. That’s going to cost you more then the paltry amount you pay me now.”
James was over a barrel, and he knew Benny knew it too. It was too late to hunt up someone who would kill for hire. Like Barnhart. James knew Benny, that slimy parasite, had him by the short hairs, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Fine,” he said. “Done. Just do the job and don’t tell me any of the details. I don’t want to know.” He turned his back and walked across the room trying to dismiss his, now, partner in crime.
But Benny wasn’t done yet. He followed James, coming up close enough behind him that James could feel his hot breath on his neck. “You’re in this up to your neck and don’t you forget it,” he said quietly. “I fry, you fry. I’ll pick up the money tomorrow morning, have it ready.”
With that, it was Benny’s turn to walk out of the room with the last word being his.
“One more thing,” James said just as Benny reached the door. “I want you to make sure, right before Barnhart takes his last breath, that he knows it was me that did this to him. You tell him, you tell him Jared James is the one sending him to hell.”