Pandora's Box (21 page)

In the bottom drawer under a pile of insurance papers a plastic bag caught her eye.
 
At first she thought it empty.
 
However, deep in the corner there was a tiny metallic square with a blue speck and what appeared to be miniscule wiring.
 
A microchip?
  
Now why would her father, a top-notch CIA spy leave something like this in a drawer instead of in a safe?

Unless he had wanted it to be found.

She quickly took it to a small microscope her father kept on the bookcase near the kitchen.
 
After carefully placing it on the glass, she closed one eye and looked into the microscope with the other.
 
Definitely a microchip.

Madison
grabbed her cell phone.
 
She was pleased to hear the ready signal buzz in her ear.
 
She quickly dialed DeMarco’s private number.
 
Her eyes went to the door and stayed glued to it as she waited for
Tyler
to interrupt her.
 
He wouldn’t be happy about her calling her ex-lover.
 
Unfortunately she needed DeMarco’s help.

He answered on the second ring.

She wondered how much DeMarco knew about Pandora’s Box.

“Marc, can you find me an address for Rico Boracci?”

“Boracci?”
 
DeMarco inserted a lengthy pause into the conversation before he spoke again.
 
If he was waiting for her to say something else, he gave up.
 
“What have you gotten yourself into now?
 
And where are you?
 
I know I told you to lay low, but I thought you’d at least be within my reach.
 
I looked everywhere for you.”

“I’ll explain in a minute.
 
First I need to know you’ll help me.
 
Find his address.”
 
She lifted the tiny microchip on the pad of one finger and eyed it carefully.
 
With her usual connections and resources gone, she didn’t know what to do with the chip.
 
“Also, I need every speech that the president made that was videotaped.
 
I think I might have found something important.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.
 
Perhaps the reason my father was killed.”

DeMarco sighed.
 
“Honey, your father was killed because he tried to assassinate the president.
 
We were both there.
 
We saw it happen.”

She wasn’t sure what she’d seen anymore.
 
It had happened so fast and the human brain had a way of distorting things, even a trained mind like hers.

“Please, just find the address for me.”

Another long pause followed her request and for a moment she actually believed DeMarco would refuse.
 
She bit the inside of her lip, waiting for his response.
 
Would he help her for old time’s sake?
   

“Okay, babe.
 
I’ll do it… if you tell me where you are.”

She hesitated.

“Is the line secure?”

“Just checked it yesterday,” he admitted.
 
“It’s clear.”

A small doubt lingered in
Madison
’s mind.
 
Should she trust him?
 
She silently argued with herself about divulging her whereabouts.
 
In the end, she decided she owed it to him to tell him.
 
She’d doubted him enough.
 
But she was discreet in her answer.
 
Let him figure it out for himself.
 
If anyone was listening in, they wouldn’t be able to break the code.

“Where are you?” he asked again.
 
“I checked all our old haunts.”

“Not all of them.
 
Remember that time you picked a bouquet of wildflowers for me?”
 
She took a long look at her surroundings and allowed the memories to rise up.
 
She and DeMarco had shared a few sweet days at the cabin about two and a half years ago.
 
They’d made love on the rug in front of the fireplace.
 
During that brief time she’d felt safer than she ever had before.
 
“You handed them to me with a huge grin and I didn’t even mind the dirt you brought in with you.”

“I remember.”
 
She could hear a smile in his voice.
 
“I know exactly where you are.
 
Sit tight.
 
I’ll let you know when it’s safe to return.”

Madison
opened her mouth to inform him that she would return when she felt like it and not a moment sooner, but she didn’t get the chance to utter a single syllable.
 
The front door slowly creaked open.
 
Tyler
stood in the doorway, his jaw tight.
 
He’d obviously guessed who she’d been talking to and didn’t like it.
 

She froze, lips puckered on her next word.

She replaced the receiver without saying anything else to DeMarco.
 
Shameful heat suffused her cheeks, openly displaying her guilt.
 
She swallowed the growing lump in her throat and turned away, but she could feel
Tyler
’s eyes burning a hole in her back.
 
She waited for the questions and accusations to begin.
 
Why did she feel like she’d been caught cheating on her spouse?

“I’m going to check the kitchen,” she mumbled.
 
“If there’s anything edible, I’ll grab you something too.”

******

Twenty minutes later,
Madison
ate the last bite of tuna off her fork.
 
She dropped the utensil into the empty tuna can with a loud Clink! and set it aside.
 
Besides tuna, she’d found a bottle of red wine.
 
She smiled to herself, thinking how her father would have a fit if he could see her now.
 
Fish should be served with white wine.
 
But her father was dead.
 
He’d never know.
 

Her smile vanished.

The floor felt less comfortable under her bottom with each passing second, but she didn’t want to move further away from the roaring fire in the stone hearth.
 
She sat Indian-style and leaned forward, taking some of the pressure off her derriere.
 

Other than a few cans of food the kitchen had been empty.
 
They would have to travel into
Reno
in the morning.
 
Maybe they could splurge and eat in a real restaurant.

Her eyes focused on
Tyler
’s back as he poked the fire, moving logs around to create the best scenario for flames to grow.
 
His muscles flexed beneath the snug green sweatshirt.
 
Attraction, purely physical, warmed her insides.
 
She could make love with him so easily—but could she trust him?

Madison
fingered the intricate design on the area rug

“I just realized something,”
Tyler
said.
 
He settled next to her on the floor.
 
“This is the first time we’ve been alone.”

Warning bells went off in
Madison
’s head.
 

She cleared her throat before saying, “Not true.
 
We were trapped in a car at the bottom of the sea.”

“Doesn’t count.
 
We were too worried about our next breath to explore our options.”

Options?
 
Madison
turned away and drained her glass of wine.
 
His eyes burned every spot they touched on her face and body.
 
Unnerved by the sudden attention, she got up and went to the couch.
 
She sat on one end of it, bare feet tucked under her.
 
She pulled a floral pillow onto her lap as a barrier.
 
He couldn’t make a pass if he couldn’t get close enough.

Madison
pulled the rubber band from her hair, freeing it.
 
She rubbed the back of her skull and sighed.
 

With a smug smile,
Tyler
brought the bottle of wine to her and refilled her glass.
 
He topped off his own before setting the bottle back down on the coffee table.
 
He sat on the other end of the couch, giving her the space she so desperately needed, but he watched her with acute male interest.
 

“Tell me a secret,” he demanded gently.
 
“Tell me something about you that would surprise me.”

“I don’t think so.”
 
She sipped her wine while wishing she was alone in her father’s cabin.
 
She hadn’t had time to fully mourn for him yet.
 
Every time she thought about him being dead… she pushed the fact from her mind and refused to dwell on it because she had to keep her wits about her.
 

“I dare you,”
Tyler
said.

“No.”

“I double-dog dare you.”

“Forget it.”
 
She turned away.
 
“What are you?
 
Twelve?”

“Come on,
Madison
.
 
Tell me a secret.”
 
He grinned.
 
“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

She
would
love to know his secrets.
 
She could tell him something she was planning on telling him anyway—eventually.
 
So she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
 
“I have a microchip in my brain.”

That wiped the smile off his face.

He gaped at her, obviously stunned.
 

She said, “Grainger told me.
 
It seems I was his first experiment, a guinea pig.
 
Maybe that’s what the four men fought over all those years ago.
 
My father must have tried to stop them.”
 
She looked at
Tyler
.
 
“And your father probably tried to stop them too, of course.
 
I’m sure President Law would have stepped in.
 
But somehow Grainger and Boracci won out and I have a chip.”
 
She frowned.
 
“I didn’t have a chance to ask him what I’m programmed to do.”

With a smug smile in place she said, “Top that.”

“Okay.”
 
He cleared his throat.
 
“I’m not really Tyler Law.”

Wine went down the wrong way and she began to choke.
 
Tyler
moved fast.
 
He thumped her on the back a few times, all the while asking if she was okay, but she couldn’t stop coughing long enough to speak.
 
His awkward laugh revealed his game.

She knocked his hand away.
 

“I’m sorry,” he said.
 
“I was just kidding.
 
I wanted to lighten the mood and it seemed like a very
spy
thing to say.
 
I guess I watch too many movies.
 
You okay now?”

She glared at him.
 
“You jackass!
 
I swear if you don’t tell me something big after what I just told you, I’m going to rip your stupid face off.”

He collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh and threw his hands up in defeat.
 

“My parents have an arranged marriage.”
 
He slid her a look, waiting for her reaction.
 
“In case you haven’t noticed, they can’t stand each other.
 
My old man was going to be president come hell or high water.
 
My mother fancied the idea of being the first lady, so they got married.
 
They only consummated the marriage because they needed a child, one child, preferably a boy.
 
Lucky me.”

Madison
felt horrible for the little boy that had to grow up in that situation.
 
No wonder
Tyler
seemed to have as much trouble trusting people as she did.
 

Tyler
leaned forward, grabbed the wine bottle, and filled his glass halfway.
 
“Unless you want to stop sharing secrets, it’s your turn again.”

“You mother isn’t a drunk.
 
She’s been faking it.”
 
Madison
studied his reaction to see if this was something he already knew.
 
His eyebrows drew closer.
 
He shook his head slowly and told her she was wrong.
 
If he'd known, he was a damn good actor.
 
She added, “The president handed me her Martini glass yesterday.
 
She’d been weaving around the room, making nasty remarks.
 
I tasted her drink, and it was only water.”