Dangerous Secrets (27 page)

‶
I was cooking,″ she
explained.

She moved sideways to place it on the small
table next to the door where sat a vase of fresh flowers. Morgan changed them
once a week. She loved the smell of them. This week it was roses. She′d
had carnations last week and an exotic bird of paradise spray the week before.
She laid down the knife and turned back to Michelle. The knife fell off the
table and clattered to the floor. Morgan instinctively turned and in that split
second the explosion sounded.

Morgan turned in time to see Michelle blown
inward through the door. Blood splattered across me room. Morgan straightened,
a look of amazement on her face. Michelle′s body was flung through the
foyer. She slammed into the wall and hung there, suspended like a slack puppet
for a moment before sliding to the floor. Morgan′s heart hammered as she
realized Michelle was dead. She started for her. Jack sprang from his hiding
place, tackling her, bringing her down to the floor and covering her with his
body. Shots rang out, showering the house from the outside. Windows exploded,
spraying glass over the room. The vase on the table was hit. A shard pierce
Morgan′s bare arm. The walls above her were riddled with bullets. She
could hear bullets crashing through the windows of her living room, knew the
splattered whisper of them finding solace in the books that lined one wall.

Morgan cowered under Jack. Clenching her teeth
together, she dug her fingers into his arms, holding him as her protector. The
gunfire seemed to grow faster and louder. Outside it sounded like there must be
an army using its entire arsenal against them. When would they stop? How many
were there? Morgan couldn′t wait.

‶
We have to get out of
here,″ Jack shouted in her ear.
‶
We′ll go to the garage
and take your car—″

His sentence was cut off by a huge explosion
coming from the garage. Morgan knew her car had just been vaporized. There
would be no escaping using it.

‶
Follow me,″ she told him.
‶
I
have a way.″

‶
You′re not going to try
the back door?″

‶
No,′′ she said,
throwing him a look that would have stopped any street thug.

Morgan crawled on her belly as if she were a
seasoned soldier. Jack followed her. Outside he′d made out four men, but
there could be more. From the artillery they were throwing at the house, he
knew it was only a matter of time before they came inside. There were four
entrances, including the garage entryway and the sliding glass door off the
great room in the back. He′d made sure they were all locked, but none of
them would stand up to bullets. The glass doors and windows were definitely a
weak point. He had to believe there were people in the back waiting for them to
come through one of the doors.

Morgan went toward the kitchen. She opened a
door which led to the cellar. He′d explored it earlier. She had a gym
down there, hidden, concealed. He′d found the entrance that opened by
using a code on a security panel. He didn′t know how she got it built
under a house this size and this old. But the normal basement, which must have
been of standard height, had been lowered to a cavernous size where she could
tumble and jump up and down on trampolines and parallel bars. There was no
musty smell, only the latent odor of chalk she used to coat her hands and
maintain a tight and dry grip on the equipment. Jack hadn′t seen any
exits on that level. On the level above it were only windows. The old
double-door entry had been cemented over.

‶
There′s a way out down
here?″ He grabbed her shoulder, stopping her on the steps.

‶
Yes.″ She didn′t
provide any more information, only continued to run down the stairs as fast as
she could. Jack followed. He knew she could lie. She could run cons, pick
pockets, steal into and out of places without being noticed. She could throw a
knife with an accuracy rate of a thousandth of an inch to the mark. Thankfully,
he′d reached her before she had a chance to use her knife-throwing
talents on him. He remembered her file, the things she′d done to survive
before she was adopted, before she found her place in the gymnastics arena. She
could be leading him to his death, but he didn′t think so. The bullets
were real. She knew that. And he had no choice.

Morgan punched in the code with a speed that
said she could do it in her sleep. Then she pulled the door open and they began
their descent into her private gym. The door closed behind them. This was her
alone
place. No one knew of this room,
or she wouldn′t conceal it so carefully. Jack wanted to take a moment to
question her about this space, but his mind was on escape. If they got out of
here, he could ask about it later.

Down they went. Down a long set of stairs that
wove back and forth, flight by flight. Although he had found no exit when
he′d checked this two-hundred-foot room, not on the flooring under the
apparatus or through any of the exterior walls, he knew it was here.
She′d concealed it well and he thanked her for it now. Above his head the
shooting stopped, but he could feel, not hear, but know the silent footfalls of
the intruders.

‶
They′re in the
house,″ he whispered.

‶
How good are you at
gymnastics?″ she asked. Grabbing a pair of running shoes lying near the
beam, she laced them on.

Jack was thrown by the question, but answered
it the only way he knew how.
‶
I can hold my own.″

‶
I hope that′s good
enough.″

He had the feeling she knew he was lying. They
passed beams and uneven bars, trampolines, a pit filled with foam rubber cubes
over which a single wooden bar hung. In front of them was a wall of mirrors and
nothing else. Jack didn′t think they could walk through the mirrors, but
it looked as if there was nowhere else for them to go. Without his seeing her
do anything, a panel opened electronically in the ceiling. It was next to a
light at the far end of the gym. When the panel opened a rope lowered to about
twelve feet off the floor. Morgan jumped onto the beam as if walking on a
four-inch-wide pedestal four feet off the floor was part of her natural state.
She negotiated its length without a waver of imbalance, her feet as sure as if
she were walking on flat ground. At the end of the beam she leapt two feet
straight up and grabbed the hanging rope. With grace as elegant as any athlete
in competition and without using her legs for support, she pulled her weight up
hand over hand and swung her lithe body through the opening.

‶
Come on,″ she said,
looking back at him.
‶
They′re going to find this door any minute
now.″

Jack didn′t have time to hesitate.
Climbing the rope wasn′t a problem. He could do that, though not as
gracefully as she had. He needed to use his legs. Getting up on a four-inch
piece of wood with a padded covering to grab the rope was something else. He
made it on the second try. He didn′t need to jump far to grasp the rope.
Once he reached it, he was up and through the hole in the ceiling in no time.

‶
How do we close this?″

Morgan did nothing more than touch herself. She
had no remote unit, keycard or any other device that he could see, yet the rope
and panel started its movement back to the original place. If he hadn′t
found this opening, he was confident the people shooting at them wouldn′t
find it either. Even if they did, could they reach it? Jack breathed a sigh of
relief. They were safe for the time being. All they had to do was be quiet and
wait out the time.

Once the panel closed the space was pitch
black. Like being in a darkroom, no light escaped into this area. He had no
idea of the dimensions. Was it large enough for him to stand up or was it a
crawl space? The air here was stale, musty, feeling as if no one lived here or
wanted to live here. He could still smell the chalk, but it was old, like going
into a school when they were tearing it down and the bricks and mortar that
held the building together had settled into screaming memory of the thousands
of voices that once shared the space.

‶
Give me your hand,″
Morgan whispered.

He reached toward her voice in the dark. It was
the kind of voice that should be heard in the dark: low, rich, seductive, sexy.
His hand brushed her waist. She found it and moved it away from her body but
kept hold of him. She stood. Feeling the pressure of her hand pulling at him,
he stood too.

‶
Don′t let go,″ she
whispered, and she started to walk.

‶
We aren′t going to wait
here?″

‶
Now that they′ve found
me, they′re not going to leave until they find where we′re hiding.
We have to go.″

She pulled on his hand and he started to move.

‶
How big is this. .
.place?″ he asked, spreading his free arm out to ward off whatever was
denied his eyes and to try and maintain his balance in total darkness.

‶
You don′t have to worry
about bumping into anything.″

That wasn′t his concern. The two of them
walked. She led and he followed. About thirty seconds after they started in the
pitch darkness, she switched on a flashlight. Jack noticed there were no
cobwebs. The place wasn′t a room but a long narrow corridor with paneled
walls and light sconces. Before climbing through the ceiling tile they′d
already come to the end of the building. They must be outside of the house by
now.

‶
How far does this go?″
Jack asked after they′d walked another three minutes.

‶
It will end soon.″

It did. The paneling ended at another wall.
Jack trusted her when she said there was an exit. At the wall was a heavy door
which swung open easily, as if its hinges were oiled regularly. Again this one
required an electronic code for access. They went through it and into a tunnel.
Morgan turned and reset the code then closed the door. It not only had an
electronic lock, but she bolted it with three primitive slats of wood that fell
neatly into wooden place holders. Anyone trying to get through it would be
greatly hampered even if they tried to blast through it with gunfire.
She′d thought of everything.

And that made him uncomfortable.

If she′d put this much thought into an
escape plan, someone must really be after her. Why? He hadn′t gotten that
information. He′d wanted to talk to her, but there hadn′t been
time. Before they got to say anything the bullets had started flying.

After the door was secure she pulled a backpack
from a concealed shelf.

‶
Turn around,″ she
ordered.

‶
What?″

‶
I never expected anyone to be
with me. I have to change clothes. So turn around or I′ll switch this
light off and you′ll lose your equilibrium and fall over.″

‶
Wouldn′t you like me to
unzip you?″ he asked playfully.

‶
Funny,″ she replied with
a look made grotesque by the single beam of light in the vast darkness.

Jack smiled, then turned around. He could hear
her taking her dress off. The familiar sound of a zipper being pulled down made
him think of things he had no time for now, like how she′d felt lying
under him on the floor before the melee started. He could see a shadow thrown
against the wall. She pulled something over her head. He had a mental picture
of her without that black dress and his body suddenly tightened. He heard the
thunk of something falling and her quickly scooping it up.

‶
A lot of planning went into
this,′′ Jack said to get his mind off his thoughts.

‶
Didn′t you think I was up
to it?″ she quipped.

‶
That′s not it,″ he
replied. That was exactly it, but he wasn′t about to admit it.
‶
It′s
just for someone who′s such an upstanding citizen, this is not the usual
finished room.″

‶
You can turn around now.″

She was wearing black jeans and a black
T-shirt. Her hair was completely off her face, pulled into a ponytail that fell
over her shoulder as she leaned forward. He was suddenly reminded of the
nineteen-year-old he′d seen on a strip of film twelve years ago.

‶
I thought you said you knew all
about me.″ She started walking again.
‶
Didn′t you learn
all
my talents?″ Jack ignored the
barb.
‶
Where
is this leading?″

‶
To the outside.″

The ground under them changed from flat to a
smooth incline. Its steepness rose sharply until Jack had to practically crawl.
There was no paneling here. He was in a tunnel with corrugated metal cylinders
angling toward some unknown area. It was cold but dry. He could smell the
earth, not the sweet smell of 1 freshly turned or freshly planted ground, but
the dank, mildewy odor of dirt. Morgan stretched the distance between them
without seeming to notice. Then they reached a ladder embedded in a cement
wall. Immediately she started to climb. Without hesitation, Jack followed. At
the top, she pushed at a grate, using all her strength. It opened and Jack
could see the sky above them, clear and starry. Fresh air rushed in with the
scent of night on it. He breathed in deeply.

Morgan took no time to look at the sky or the
stars. She came out of the hole in the ground, and as soon as he cleared it,
she slammed the grate back in place and concealed it with the ground
vegetation.

Jack looked around the area. They were in the
woods. The road was visible about fifty feet ahead of them. Crickets and
cicadas vied for dominance in the normal night.
‶
Where are we?″ he asked.