Pandora's Box (5 page)

Madison
forced a smile and prayed it looked natural.

When they entered the ballroom,
Madison
’s breath caught in her throat.
 
Eight crystal chandeliers hung from the sky-high ceiling.
 
Formally dressed waiters walked across the shiny marble with silver trays of various treats.
 
Some of them carried tall flutes overflowing with golden champagne.
 
A live orchestra played in the background, the classical music just loud enough for the throngs of people to chat amicably.
 

Madison
’s fingers tightened on DeMarco’s arm.
 

“You okay?” he asked.

She loosened her grip, embarrassed.
 

“Sorry,” she said.
 
“I guess I don’t know my own strength.”

“Why don’t I get you a drink?”

“I’d rather not.
 
I think I should keep a clear head tonight.”

“Dance, then?”
 
He nodded at several couples moving in rhythm near the band.
 
“I promise to only hold you as close as you want to be held.
 
Just two old friends taking a spin on the dance floor.
 
No strings.”

She smiled, tugging him in the direction of the dancers.
 
Her stomach muscles uncramped a bit, and she allowed herself to relax.
 
Stepping into the circle of his arms felt good.
 
No longer uncomfortable, she settled against him, resting her head against his shoulder.
 
They began to move.

“I’ve missed this,” she admitted and realized it was true.
 
She placed her lips on his cool cheek, a quick kiss.
 
She missed being close to someone.

A brief flash of surprise in his eyes was trailed by appreciation.
 
“Come on.
 
We can do better than that.”

His hand pressed against the small of her back and he leaned forward, kissing her full on the lips.
 
Madison
, caught off guard, tried to push him away for a moment.
 
His lips were warm and comforting and oh-so-familiar.

She forgot where they were.

She kissed him back.

A voice brought her crashing to reality.

“I assume you aren’t on duty tonight.”
 
Tyler Law spoke over DeMarco’s shoulder, gruff.
 
“I mean, it’s sort of hard to protect the president with your tongue in another agent’s mouth.”

DeMarco stiffened.

Her face burned.
 
Absurdly enough, she felt like she’d been caught cheating.
 
Forcing her expression to go neutral, she held her hand out to him.
 
“We weren’t formally introduced.
 
I’m Madison Grey.
 
Pleased to meet you.”

Tyler
took her hand and mechanically told her his name as if it wasn’t already engraved on her brain.
 
His large hand nearly swallowed hers.
 
Unwanted warmth spread through her entire body like wildfire.

“Why don’t you take a hike, pal?”
 
DeMarco’s upper lip curled in a sneer.
 
“We aren’t on duty tonight.
 
What we do with our free time is our business.”

Tyler and DeMarco stood toe to toe, neither one prepared to back down.
 
Madison
couldn’t stand the thought of them fighting.
 
She didn’t want to see either of them get hurt.
 
Not to mention, it would be an embarrassing situation for everyone.

“Marc, could you leave us for a moment?” she asked.
 
“There’s something I need to say to the first son, and I don’t want any witnesses.”

DeMarco reluctantly walked away, glancing over his shoulder at them just once before he vanished into the crowd.

“You need to back off,” she said.
 
“Your father asked me to be here as a guest.
 
I suppose he wants to thank me for saving his son’s life.”

“Saving
my
life?”
 
Tyler
gaped at her.
 
“You did not save my life, sweetheart.
 
You almost got me killed.
 
Remember?
 
You drove us into the ocean?
 
Does that strike a chord?”

“There was a woman with a bomb and it could have blown you away.
 
I saved your life.
 
Twice.
 
I had to untangle you before you drowned.”

His eyelids dropped, but she saw the flash of guilt before they could hide his eyes.
 
Her quick mind instantly connected her to the truth.

“Wait a minute!”
 
She stepped forward, crowding him.
 
“You’re a Navy SEAL used to working underwater in the worst conditions.
 
You didn’t get tangled up.
 
It was a trick.”

He shook his head.
 
“It was a test.
 
I needed to know if I could trust you.”

Trust her?
 
He had a lot of nerve.
 
She’d almost drowned trying to save his miserable life, and he hadn’t even been in danger.
 

He smirked.
 
“I didn’t know you and DeMarco were dating.”

“We aren’t.”

“Then he won’t mind if I dance with you.”

Before
Madison
could protest,
Tyler
’s arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her close.
 
His movements were smooth, graceful with a whiff of formal training.
 
Being held by him ripped her confidence away.
 
She was on the high wire without a net.
 
If she was smart, she’d walk away from him.
 

Instead, she snuggled closer.

“Hail to the Chief” began to play, announcing the president’s arrival and demanding everyone’s attention.
 
Tyler
took a step away from her and the cool air took the place of his warm body.
 
She shivered.
 
Everyone began to clap around them.

Madison
drew her gaze away from
Tyler
and clapped her hands together.

The double doors at the top of the grand staircase opened.
 
The president and the first lady emerged, arm in arm.
 
The crowd erupted in applause that shook the rafters.
 
Madison
forced a smile to her stiff face.

The president and first lady waved to the guests and the applause reached a nearly deafening volume.
 
Madison
knew the drill by heart.
 
The president would now take his place on the balcony behind the microphone so he could make a short speech.
 
Then he would mingle with the peasants for a short time before heading home.
 

The two impeccably dressed people headed for the podium.
 
The first lady stumbled and stepped on the hem of her fancy purple ball gown.
 
Several gasps and a few nasty muttered comments followed the mis-step.
 
The first lady is drunk again.
 
Tight-faced, her husband jerked on her arm.
 
She righted herself and they continued on.
 

Out of the corner of her eye,
Madison
caught sight of her father.

“Dad!” she stage-whispered.
 

He didn’t seem to hear her.
 
He kept moving, pushing his way through the finely dressed crowd.
 
Madison
walked away from
Tyler
without a glance or a word.
 
She grabbed the back of her father’s jacket and tugged on it.
 

“Dad, stop!
 
What’s with all the messages?
 
I’ve been trying to return your calls, but you haven’t been answering your cell.”

He ignored every word as if he couldn’t hear her.
 
When she stepped around him, saw his face, his features twisted in a horrific grimace.
 
She’d never seen him look like that.
 
He reached beneath his jacket.
 
He pulled his gun free with a smooth, expertly devised motion.
   

“What are you doing?” she asked.
 
Pure shock washed the blood from her face.
 
“Put that away!”

He tried to pass her.

She grabbed his wrist, but he halfway turned and hit her with the open palm of his free hand.
 
She fell into the throng of people behind her.
 
They tried to catch her, but she landed on the floor in the middle of them.
 
Several hands grabbed at her, trying to help her stand.
 
They just got in her way.
 
She slapped their hands away and pushed at their legs.
 
How was she supposed to stand up when they wouldn’t give her the room to move?

The people hadn’t seen the gun in her father’s hand; they didn’t know they were interfering.
 
She had to stop her father before he got hurt.

Too late.

The Secret Service spotted him and the gun.

“Gun!” one of them yelled.
 
“Everyone down!”

A few of them knocked the president and first lady to the floor.
 
Several agents pulled their guns.
 
Madison
couldn’t get her limbs to move.
 
For the first time in her career, she froze.

Tyler
raced by her, intent on tackling her father.
 
But
Tyler
didn’t make it.
 
Several agents simultaneously pulled their triggers.

A dozen screams drowned out the sound of falling instruments as the band dove for cover.

Madison
yelled, “Dad!
 
No!”

Several shots rang out.
 
Duncan Grey took a few wild steps, arms swinging in circles, hips and upper torso banging around to an unbalanced rhythm as the bullets hit him.
 
The gun fell from his limp fingers.
 
He stumbled three more steps, lips dripping blood, and then he joined his gun on the cold marble floor.

Still screaming,
Madison
crawled across the floor to him.
 
She shoved the grasping hands away.
 
“Don’t you touch him!
 
Don’t you dare touch him!”

She rolled him over, cradled her father’s head on her lap, amazed to find him alive.
 
His mouth opened and closed a few times.
 
A slurred word came out, but she couldn’t grasp it.
 
She bent her head close to him.

“What is it, Daddy?
 
What do you want to say?”

His harsh breath hit the side of her face, feeling cold.

He whispered, “Pandora’s Box.”

And died.

Chapter Three

“What did your father say to you before he died?”

Madison
glanced around the table at the grim faces.
 
The director of the CIA, a top FBI agent, three Secret Service men including DeMarco, the Secretary of Defense and Vice President Mercer surrounded the conference table, all of them standing even though she had been told to sit.
 
They were hoping to intimidate her.
 

They didn’t know her very well if they thought that kind of tactic would work on her.

Mercer glared at her from across the table.
 
Immediately following her father’s death, before she’d had time to fully process what had happened, they’d pulled her into a conference room, demanding answers she didn’t have.

As for her father’s dying words, they were all she had left of him.
 
She wouldn’t give them up without a fight, especially not to a pack of wolves with their own agenda.

“He told me he loved me,” she said.
 
The lie easily slipped off her tongue.
 
She stared them down, unblinking.
 

Vice President Mercer abruptly stood.
 
Although he was a lawyer like many other politicians, but he’d also been an underwear model.
 
It helped pay his way through school
 
He placed his fists on the conference table and leaned across it, trying to intimidate her with his stony glare, but it was hard for her to take him seriously.
 
Every time he tried to throw his weight around, she pictured that last ad of a thirty-something year old man prancing around in tiny blue briefs.