Dangerous Secrets (59 page)

‶
Look,″ he said, laughing.
‶
The
cavalry′s arrived.″

***

Jim Burton landed the black helicopter with the
FBI decal on the side thirty feet from where Jack and Morgan stood. The green
giant, still lying on the ground where he′d fallen, squeezed his eyes
shut and pulled his body up and away from the churning debris caused by the
aircraft′s rotors. Morgan shaded her eyes until the blades slowed. With
both hands she held her hair back. The smile on her face at the approaching
savior must have been as wide as an ocean. She was just as glad to see him as
she′d been to find Jack alive last night. Relief threaded through her
with the force of Niagara Falls.

‶
How′d you find us?″
Jack asked as the roar of wind died down to normal.

‶
I got here as fast as I could
after the phone call.″

‶
Phone call?″

‶
I hoped Jacob would still be
monitoring the line,″ Morgan explained.
‶
While you were busy swerving
all over the highway, the phone skittered across the floor. That′s when I
released the belt and lunged for it. I hit the redial button and then got the
rifle.″

‶
We got a call to get in the
air,″ Burton picked up the story.
‶
And speaking of calls,
there′s a really angry man on the headset who wants to talk to you,
Jack.″

Jack smiled and started for the helicopter.

‶
There was a roadblock in front
of and behind you,″ Burton continued.
‶
We′ve got them. The
locals should be here any minute.″

‶
Hey, I′m lying here. Bleeding.″
The green giant spoke like a wayward child being ignored.

‶
You′re lucky you′re
not lying there dead,″ Morgan stated with more bravado than she felt. She
hadn′t thought anything when she pressed that button. Jack was outside
and the giant had a gun. She was trapped.
They
were trapped with nowhere to go. This time he wouldn′t give them time
to escape and he′d told her he′d treat her with the same care and
consideration he′d given Jack. It was push that button or die.

Morgan′s eyes were closed when the
bullets began to fly. If they hit him in the chest or some vital part of his
body, she didn′t know what she′d feel, but she had to take the
chance. And she was glad she′d only wounded him, even though he would not
have given her the same consideration.

She checked his legs from her position out of
his reach. The bandages were soaked with blood, but he′d be fine. He
wouldn′t die.

‶
What happened here?″
Burton asked.

‶
They chased us. Three trucks
and the skybird. He was in the chopper.″ She indicated the man lying on
the ground and then related the entire ordeal for Burton, ending with
Jack′s comment on the cavalry′s arrival.

‶
Who are you working for?″
Burton asked the man.

‶
Yo mama,″ he snarled.

At that moment they heard the sirens. Coming
toward them was a six-pack of police cars.

‶
Great,″ Morgan said,
glancing down.
‶
We
can turn you over to them.″

Blue and red lights on the car′s crossbar
cycled back and forth, like colored strobes. Sirens blared as if they were horn
testers out for a final run before horns were forever banned. Morgan covered
her ears.

‶
How are Allie and Jan?″

Burton′s face suddenly turned soft.
‶
Out
of their minds with worry.″

Morgan knew how he felt about Jan. She hoped
her friend would give him a chance. Morgan liked him. He seemed to be a really
good guy, like Jack.

‶
You didn′t call,″
Burton was saying when she brought her attention back to him.
‶
I
practically had to tie Jan up to get in the chopper without her. I promised
I′d let her know immediately when I found you.″

They both looked at Jack. He was obviously
trying to get a word in. Morgan could see his mouth say the word
‶
but″
as if he were stuck in a rerun. The cars, their sirens winding down, came to a
stop a few feet behind the Lexus. Uniformed officers, guns drawn and ready,
rushed to them.

Jim Burton held up his identification badge.
The officers acknowledged it.
‶
Everything all right here?″ A tall man with
graying hair and the build of an ex-football player spoke.

‶
There′s a helicopter up
there.″ Morgan pointed to a place behind Jack.
‶
He came out of
it.″ The giant smirked at her then winced in pain.
‶
There
were also three trucks. Two of them went over the side. The other is
there.″

The officers listened to her and the obvious
leader dispersed men to check out the places Morgan mentioned.

She glanced at Jack. He had his arm over his
head as he leaned on the windshield of the helicopter. But
he
was talking. He′d managed to get a word in and probably
taken over the conversation, she thought.

The officers moved around her. Like a well-oiled
machine they split into teams and went to work taking care of the wounded or
the trucks. A car with two officers sped around them and headed for the downed
helicopter around the bend. The other officers knew what to do. They appeared
to be locking down everything, making sure there was no danger from explosions
or surprise attacks. Ambulances joined the growing crowd of vehicles.

The tinkling sound of a cell phone went off.
Burton pulled a unit from his pocket and the ringing became louder. He spoke in
short, cryptic phrases. Without a good-bye or a word to her, he pressed a
button and handed the phone to Morgan.

‶
Call them,″ he said and
winked at her. Then he went to the tall officer in charge and spoke quickly.

Morgan smiled and began dialing the memorized
number,

‶
Burton, did you find
her?′ Jan′s voice was breathy and frightened.

‶
He found me,″ she said.
‶
We′re
fine.″

‶
Where are you? Did you get to
Clarksburg?″

Morgan didn′t want to share the details
of the past twenty-four hours.
‶
We′ll be there in a few minutes,″ she
said, glancing at the group standing a few feet away. Morgan assured them she
was all right and that Jack was taking care of her. After a few minutes of
repeating herself, and promises to keep in touch, she clicked the phone off and
returned it to Burton.

Burton seemed to wait for her to finish her
call. Then he came to her, indicating she should follow him. Morgan had to walk
fast to keep up with him. They joined Jack, who ended his phone call as they
approached. Burton helped her into the helicopter without a word. Climbing into
the back, Morgan remembered the last time she got aboard a helicopter. Her
heart beat a little faster even though she didn′t expect to have to dive
out of this one. Jack and Burton got in the front seats. She sat behind Jack,
nervous, unsure of what was about to happen.

Morgan felt as if she was being rushed. Most of
her life she had controlled her own destiny. She′d been her own champion
of causes, responsible for herself, making her own decisions. Now, as this
machine lifted her off the ground, she felt as if she′d been inside some
game. For twelve years she′d been running around in circles, back and
forth through the same maze of tunnels, going nowhere.

And now the sign read,
‶
Game Over.″

She′d lost.

Chapter 17

The FBI′s Criminal Justice and
Information Services—Fingerprint Identification Division Complex was a
multimillion-dollar construction project. The complete complex sat on 986 acres
within the city of Clarksburg, West Virginia. Total employment at the facility
exceeded 3,600 people.

The whitewashed, three-story building flurried
out in an array of connected facilities. It had no helicopter pad. The chopper
set down at the edge of a parking lot that had been cordoned off. A car sat on
the other side of the orange and white barrier. Two men got out as soon as
Burton turned the engine off and the whine of the blades started to fade.

Jack and Burton got out. Morgan remained where
she was, her throat dry, her legs feeling as heavy as lead pillars. Two men
walked toward them. The taller one was lanky with dark hair. He didn′t
squint even though the sun shone directly in his face. He moved with an air of
confidence that spoke of quiet control. The second man was shorter. His body
was squarely cut, square shoulders leading to a thick but not fat waistline.
Morgan had the impression that he was solid from the skin all the way through.

Jack smiled and shook hands with the shorter
man. Then they hugged in that awkward I-am-a-man-and-men-don′t-hug
manner. Morgan knew this had to be Forrest Washington. She remembered his name
now. Jack then shook hands with the other man. They said something to each
other, but Morgan couldn′t hear what it was. She still sat in her seat,
staring through the glass in front of her, unseeing, unmoving, afraid of what
was to happen. She′d been running for what seemed like years, but her
journey ended here. It was over. She′d get out and walk into that bright,
white building and her life would never be hers again.

Briefly, she thought of Hart Lewiston. Her
father. She′d never get to know him. She hadn′t decided if she even
wanted to know him, but the decision wouldn′t be hers. Even as president
he couldn′t protect her from a bullet.

And Jack.

She did move when she thought of Jack. He was
still talking to Forrest Washington. Morgan reached for the door and pushed it
open. Outside it stood the other man, the tall one. He had clear blue eyes that
were trusting. Morgan found it hard to look away from him. His presence spoke
of safety and care. She actually thought he cared about her. A stranger cared
about her safety.

‶
I′m Jacob Winston,″
he said.
‶
Director
of the—″

‶
You don′t have to
introduce yourself.″ She′d never met him in person, but she knew
who he was. Once she thought of him as her savior. Today he appeared as her
jailer, kind eyes or not.

‶
Neither do you.″ His
mouth curved into something less than a smile.
‶
I′ve seen films and
photos of you.″

Morgan dropped her eyes. Everyone had seen
those films.

She′d done the deed, performed for the
world and no one would ever let her live it down. They saw it as pride. She could
tell that even Jacob Winston, honcho of the witness protection program, thought
of her as a national hero. While all she remembered was risking her life,
nearly losing it for—

She stopped. For her father. She′d saved
the man who fathered her, who said he didn′t know about her, but claimed
her for some unknown reason.

‶
I was very young in those
films,″ she said.

‶
And very brave,″ he
finished.

He helped her out of the aircraft. The white
letters F-B-I caught her attention as she stepped onto the blacktop. She looked
at the man Jack was talking to, then up at Jacob.

‶
Forrest Washington?″

Jacob nodded, glancing over his shoulder. The
two men stopped talking and Forrest looked at her. They came to where she
stood.

‶
I′m glad you′re
safe,″ he said.

Morgan reached out and shook hands with him. He
was only a couple of inches taller than she was, and for all his bulk, his
hands were surprisingly soft and gentle. Not like Jack′s, which were
rough and calloused. Washington′s skin was a darker brown than her own,
but where her underlying pigment was yellow, his was red. He wore a mustache
and his brown eyes were serious and concerned.

‶
Why don′t we go
inside,″ he said. Instead of walking the short distance, a car was there
and they all piled into it. The ride was only seconds long, then they went into
the white building and were led to a conference room on the third floor.
Waiting for them were two other men. One of them, a man in his fifties she
estimated, had a shock of white hair and ruddy complexion. It made him stand
out against the dark paneling. Morgan recognized him. She′d seen him a
few times years ago. He was introduced to her as Clarence Christopher, director
of the FBI. The other man was Brian Ashleigh, director of the CIA. He had the
kind of face that was hard to put an age to. Morgan assumed, due to his
position, he was probably a contemporary of the FBI director. His eyes were
light brown, and his blond hair was graying in streaks and balding on the crown
of his head.

She was dutifully impressed but didn′t
say anything. She wondered why they were here and for her. She assumed Jacob
would accompany her back to Washington and from there she′d be sent to
her new home with a new identity. Then she remembered Hart Lewiston and her
relationship to him. Were they here because her father would probably be the
next president? Or would he? She and Jack had been out of touch with news
reports. What was the pressing saying about Hart′s revelation?

She shook hands with them both and sat down.
Jack set a cup of coffee in front of her and took the seat next to hers. Morgan
wanted to take his hand. She needed something to hold onto, but she only
watched as Jack tore a sugar packet open and dumped the contents into his own
cup of hot liquid. Then as usual, he stuffed the top into the bottom and
dropped them on the polished table. Morgan lifted her cup and sipped. She was
suddenly extremely hungry.

She tried to concentrate on food. When was the
last time she ate? What time was it? But she couldn′t. She could only
think that there were too many people in this room. Maybe it had to do with
Hart Lewiston. He was political and the top men in the agencies were here to stay
on his good side. If he was elected president they would work for him. It
wouldn′t hurt to make sure his daughter received their attention.

She stole another glance at Jack.

‶
Jacob.″ She sought out
the only man, other than Jack, she could put her trust in. The silence had gone
on too long.
‶
What
happens to me now?′′

Her question garnered more quiet and looks
passed between the men in the room. Morgan′s ears turned red hot. She
took Jack′s hand under the table.

‶
We hadn′t planned to get
into any details,″ Jacob said.
‶
You and Jack have been through
a lot. You′re probably hungry and tired.″

‶
I want to know,″ she said
before he could go on.

‶
That is not an easy question,
Ms. Kirkwood,″ the white-haired director of the FBI answered.
‶
Your
father. . .complicates things.″

‶
My father?″

‶
Hart Lewiston.″

‶
I know who you mean. What does
he have to do with this?″

The director sighed.
‶
The world has
changed since his announcement. By right, you deserve the protection of the
secret service. There′s some jurisdictional wrangling going on. In the
meantime, we are charged with your security.

‶
It′s not like we can put
the daughter of the possible next president in the program.″

Anger flashed through Morgan. It was
irrational. She didn′t want to go into the program. It would mean leaving
Jack. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to spend her life with him. Yet
that survival instinct inside her had been loosened. She wanted to live.
She′d been dead all these years and she didn′t want her life to
return to that existence. Going into the program would close a cell door on
her, return her to the place she did not want to be. Yet the words in her heart
broke forth of their own volition.

‶
I don′t believe the
decision is his.″

***

Jack woke up in a safe house in northern
Virginia. He′d been asleep for almost twelve hours and his head ached
from too much sleep. It had felt good to lie on a soft pillow, pale green
sheets that smelled like flowers and a soft comforter that made him yearn for
Morgan. He′d spent a lot of his life in places where beds weren′t
an option and other places where the ground was preferable. His assignments
didn′t often call for scented sheets and mattresses.

He wasn′t sure if he didn′t want
one of those places now. As long as he could keep Morgan with him. Yesterday
Jacob had ended the meeting shortly after it began. Morgan was in no condition
to endure a long debate, he′d said. He′d been partially right. Jack
and Morgan both needed rest. Now that they were in protective custody, they
could afford to wait another twenty-four hours to straighten out the details.
Jack wanted the reprieve. Another day with Morgan. He wanted another night with
her too, but by the time they′d flown to Washington and then been
transported to this place, Morgan was worn out. She′d never admit it, but
after what they′d been through in the last few weeks, he was amazed she
could still stand on her own two feet.

Morgan was in the next room. He wondered if she
was awake. Leaving the bed, he pulled on clean pants. Clothes had been sent to
him. The sizes were perfect and they were stiff with newness. Asking where they
came from would be useless. He just pulled them on.

Outside, the lawn was long. The property,
dotted with weeping willow trees that swayed in the soft breeze, was huge. He
could see a paddock in the distance. The smell of horses wafted on the air with
the scent of freshly cut grass.

Jack poked his head around the door adjoining
his room to Morgan′s. He′d left her there after their arrival.
He′d wanted to stay with her, hold her, but they needed sleep more than
they needed each other. She′d fallen asleep as soon as she got out of the
shower. Jack had retired to his room and done the same.

***

Morgan sat in the middle of the bed, her knees
up, her hands hugging them, her face turned toward the windows. The room was
modern, complemented with furniture that was low and had straight lines. One
wall was all windows. Morgan had opened the curtains and light filtered in.
After sleeping in caves and vehicles covered with branches, he understood her
insistence that they leave the curtains open last night.

She wore a pink nightgown. Her hair was pushed
back from her face, reminding Jack of the morning he′d seen her swimming
in the mountain lake. She appeared to be watching the horses.

‶
In,″ he said. He
approached the bed.

‶
In,″ she answered. She
didn′t smile. She′d been deep in thought.
‶
Did you sleep
well?″

‶
No,″ he told her. She
smiled then and he knew she understood his meaning. They′d been together
constantly for the past few weeks. Sleeping without her had only happened
because he was exhausted. If he′d stayed with her neither of them would
have slept and they both knew it.

Jack sat on the covers. She reached for him. He
came closer to her, immediately taking the soft hand, noticing the cuts and
bruises that marred her arm, souvenirs of their ordeal. The marks would fade in
time, but the sight of them cut through his gut like a rusty knife.

Morgan leaned forward. Her arms went around
him. Jack folded her into his embrace and squeezed her close. She smelled of
the soap and shampoo she′d used the night before. He inhaled deeply. She
was warm and soft and he wanted nothing more than to hold onto her forever.

‶
Do you know anything?″
she asked softly.

‶
Nothing that you don′t
know.″ He kissed her neck.
‶
Only that Hart Lewiston is
pulling out all the stops to find out where you are.″ Morgan pulled back
and looked at Jack.
‶
How do you feel about him?″

‶
I haven′t really had time
to think much about him.″

She looked confused.
‶
There is so much to
think about. He′s a senator. He′s going to be president. He′s
from a different life. And I′m a grown woman. It might have been
different if I were twelve and on the streets. Then I′d have given
anything for a warm bed.″ She smoothed her hand over the pink sheets.
“Now, I could only be a liability to him and. . .”

“And you?” Jack prompted.

She frowned in an expression that said she had
many problems and none with a solution. Hart Lewiston was only one of them.
Jack understood. He had his own unsolvable complications.

“He’s going to be the next president,” Jack
continued. “His announcement about you caused a dip in the polls, but he’ll
recover. His father is a Supreme Court justice. He’s popular, a national hero.”
Jack tipped her face up to look into her eyes. “That makes you a very important
person.”

“I don’t feel very important,” she said. “Just
scared.”

Jack was scared too. He didn’t know if she
could see it in his eyes, but he didn’t try to disguise it this time. He wanted
her to see him, see into his soul and know everything he thought and felt. He
pulled her forward and kissed her. He couldn’t not kiss her. He was scared of
being without her again. Terrified. He knew what it was like to carry around a
love so heavy that it was painful to push it aside and do other things, and he
knew what it was like to run out of time. They were nearly out of it.