Dangerous Secrets (62 page)

Morgan sat down on one of the sofas in front of
the fireplace. Hart and Carla faced her on the other. She noticed Carla take
his hand as if she needed the solid protection of his presence. Morgan
couldn′t believe how calm she appeared. Inside her stomach was boiling.
Jack had offered to stand with her, but she refused him meeting her parents was
something she needed to do alone.

Neither of them spoke and the silence
stretched.
‶
I′m
a little nervous,″ she finally said.
‶
I never expected to find my
father alive or that it could be you. I thought. . .″ she hesitated.
‶
I
thought you might want to have everything confirmed.″

‶
Confirmed?″ Carla spoke
for the first time.

‶
Blood tests,″ Morgan suggested.
‶
DNA?″

‶
We don′t have to talk
about that now,″ Hart said.
‶
Tell me about you.″

Morgan didn′t want to talk about herself.
Her story wasn′t especially pretty. She hadn′t grown up taking
dance classes or being one of the cheerleaders in school. It was natural that
he′d want to know about her, but it wasn′t a story she wanted to
tell. She was surprised he didn′t already know everything there was to
know.

She gave him the abridged version of her life,
leaving out all the bad, only telling him that her mother died and she was
adopted and went on to join the gymnastics team. The way she told the story,
you′d never know she lived on the streets, scavenging food and watched
her best friend bleed to death. She wore an expensive dress, her hair was curled
and her makeup flawless. She looked like someone living the American Dream, but
Morgan lived the American Nightmare and it hadn′t ended yet.

‶
I′m sure you′ve
heard more from Mr. Christopher,″ Morgan ended.
‶
I now live in St.
Charles, Missouri, or at least I did.″ She thought about the loss of her
house.
‶
What
about you? I know nothing about you and my mother.″ Morgan looked at
Carla for any clue of her feelings. She saw none.

Hart explained that he′d grown up in a
middle class family. They always had food and clothes and he wasn′t
concerned about having the latest electronic devices, although somehow his
parents gave him some of those things. That his father was a country lawyer
until he was tapped for the Supreme Court.

Hart followed in his dad′s footsteps and went
to law school, but found himself training for the Central Intelligence Agency.

‶
And you know about my capture
and subsequent rescue.″

Morgan nodded. He didn′t look totally
comfortable talking about that part of his past. Morgan wanted to know about him
and her mother, but decided that was a conversation for a time when Carla
Lewiston wasn′t present.

***

Dinner went better than she expected it to be,
mostly due to Jack. Morgan was placed at the head of the table in the small
dining room. Hart was on her right and Carla Lewiston on her left. The rest of
the table had Jack next to Carla, then Jacob Winston. On Hart′s side of
the table sat Clarence Christopher and Forrest Washington. Brian Ashleigh sat
directly across from her at the other end of the table.

Hart spoke softly and asked her questions about
her past. Morgan did her best to answer them as truthfully as she could. She
steered the conversation toward him as often as she could, asking him about his
life after he returned from Korea, although neither of them mentioned their
common association to the Far Eastern country. Jack kept Carla busy in a
conversation that didn′t give her the chance to direct uncomfortable
looks at Morgan. Morgan supposed it was natural for Carla to distrust and
dislike her spouse′s child, especially when she didn′t know about
her, but Morgan didn′t like the looks she got any more than she′d
enjoy dental surgery.

Morgan couldn′t remember what they ate.
She thought there was lobster bisque, and her plate had a soufflé on it when
they moved from the table, but she had no memory of eating anything.

Back in the drawing room with a cup of flavored
coffee in her hand, she stood next to the window with Jack.

‶
How′s it going?″ he
asked.

‶
I′m not sure. I feel like
a piece of sculpture. Hart plays the art lover who wants to examine every curve
and obtain detailed explanations for each inch of the stone, while his wife
hates art and wonders what the big deal is.″

Jack laughed quietly.
‶
I′ll try to
keep her away from you.″

‶
Thank you, Jack, but like Eliza
Doolittle, I think it′s time she had her way with me.″

Morgan smiled, set her cup down and turned
toward Mrs. Hart Lewiston. Jack caught her arm and kissed her cheek.
‶
Don′t
be too hard on her. She is the next First Lady.″

He released her and Morgan walked across the
room. Carla sat on a sofa and Morgan saw her stiffen as she approached. Morgan
smiled, hoping to make her relax. She′d been talking to Forrest
Washington, who excused himself as she approached.

‶
Would you like more
coffee?″ Morgan asked. The older woman shook her head. Morgan took the
seat next to her.
‶
You′ll make a wonderful First Lady,″ she
said.

‶
If
Hart is elected.″ She glanced at her husband, who was
talking to Jack.

‶
I think he′ll get
elected.″

‶
His announcement regarding you
didn′t help him.″

She′d opened the door. Morgan knew this
was the heart of her hostility. Carla resented her position being threatened by
Hart telling the world Morgan was his daughter.

Morgan leaned closer to her so no one around
them could hear what she had to say.

‶
Mrs. Lewiston.″ She
addressed her formally, knowing they weren′t friends, and Morgan knew
they wouldn′t have the chance to become friends.
‶
I am not here to
threaten your position or to suddenly insinuate myself into Hart′s
life.′′ Carla Lewiston looked at her with interest and question in
her eyes. ″I′m afraid there are things I cannot tell you. They
involve most of the men in this room.″ Carla looked about.
‶
They
are not here because of candidate Hart Lewiston. When you leave here tonight you
will never see me again.″

Morgan waited for a sign. She expected relief
in the woman′s eyes, but she got nothing but stony silence.

‶
Why are they here?″ she
finally asked.

‶
I can′t tell you.″
She paused and surveyed the room.
‶
What I can tell you″—Morgan
stopped and looked back at Carla—″is that within a few days I′ll be
gone. Hart won′t be able to find me. No one will.″ A pang of pain
crushed her heart as she looked at Jack.
‶
So you don′t need to
worry. Without my presence, the media will find something else to use as a
torch. I′ll fade into the woodwork. Your life will go on exactly as you
planned it.″

At that point Morgan placed her hand on
Carla′s. It was still cold. She smiled briefly and left the woman sitting
alone. She wanted to go to her room. She wanted all these people out of here.
She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, without the need to hold her head up,
or smile, or conceal her real thoughts. She needed some time and space.

Jack caught her eye and she knew he understood.
He came to her, leaned close to her ear.
‶
Remember what I said about
red.″

Morgan burst into laughter. She knew Jack had
done it on purpose. He′d taken the fuel from her, making her laugh to
relieve the building tension.

‶
What′s going on over
there?″ Morgan asked. Jack glanced back at the senator and the director
of the FBI.
‶
Your
father,′′ he said succinctly, making her freeze. ″He wants to
know what the FBI is doing to catch the people trying to kill you and how long
you′ll be sequestered in this house.″

‶
Did they tell him?″

‶
Apparently not.″

‶
I thought he understood his
trip here was for this time only. That there would be nothing more.″

‶
That might have been the
original plan, but he′s met you now.″

‶
Maybe it′s time I put an
end to this.″

‶
Want some help?″ Jack
asked.

She shook her head, but he followed her.
Approaching the small group, they stopped talking and each took a step back.
‶
I′d
like to talk to Hart, if you don′t mind.″ Each man nodded as she
looked at him.
‶
Why
don′t we go for a walk?″

Morgan took his arm and led him toward the
French doors. She opened them and they left the room behind, yet she could feel
the sets of eyes trained on her. She led Hart away from the house. The sun set
later during summer months. It was getting dark, but it was still light enough
to see. The air was clear and brushed her naked shoulders. She stopped at the
paddock fence. Hart′s secret service agents stopped a few yards away--out
of ear shot.

‶
This is where Jacob convinced
me to see you.″ She looked over the empty paddock. The horses were all in
the stables.

‶
You didn′t want to see
me?″

She looked away.
‶
Not at first. It′s been a
long time. I′ve lived my whole life without a father. It′s too late
to acquire one now.″

‶
It′s not too late for us
to get to know each other.″

‶
I think it is.″

‶
Why?″

‶
You′ve read about me in
the papers,″ she stated.

He nodded.

‶
Then you should know that
tonight is it. Tomorrow you go back to your life, your campaign, and I. . .I
continue with mine.″

‶
It doesn′t have to be
that way. There must be something that can be done.″

‶
They′re doing it,″
Morgan said.

‶
We can hire an
investigator.″

‶
No—″

‶
Find out who is—″

‶
No,′′ she shouted.
‵
You′re
not listening to me. Everything that can be done is being done.″ She
gripped the splintering fence and calmed her voice.
‶
If there was a way,
Jack would have found it.″

‶
Jack?″

The single word was a volume in itself.
Everything she felt about Jack was asked in the one word.

‶
Yes, Jack.″ She looked
him straight in the eyes. A lump gathered in her throat. She swallowed it down.
‶
I′ll
be leaving him too.″

Suddenly he looked tired. Morgan had a thousand
questions and no time to get answers. He probably had a thousand more for her.
She called him her father, sometimes thought of him as her father, but there
was nothing to bond them. She had a great love for her mother. When she thought
of Rose Kirkwood, feelings ran through her, happy days at the park, a Christmas
tree, being read to, having her shampooed hair brushed. She had a short
lifetime of memories. She couldn′t explain how she felt. It was a place that
was warm and bright and made her feel good. When she thought of Hart. . .when
she looked at him, she had none of those feelings. He was a stranger, the
presidential nominee.

She didn′t know what he saw when he
looked at her. Now that they had met, he could go back to his campaign and
forget her. They had no tie, no connection, no love lost or found. They were
two strangers who had a nice dinner. She had never been one to share childhood
stories. Hers weren′t the campfire variety and she thought they would
make him feel bad if she told him the unvarnished truth. It was best for them
to separate.

‶
I′ve done most of the
talking tonight. Is there anything you want to ask me?″ Hart asked.

‶
I′d like you to tell me
about my mother.″

Chapter 18

Clarence Christopher listened intently to the
voice in his ear. He′d been waiting all through dinner for this call.
Each time a waiter came in to serve another course he′d hoped to be
called to the phone, but it hadn′t happened. The entire evening had gone
and nothing, but he smiled now.

‶
Are you sure you′ve got
them all?″ he asked.

‶
Fine,″ he said a moment
later.
‶
Make
sure the report is on my desk in the morning.

He replaced the receiver. Jacob stood next to
him.

‶
I take it they got them?″
he asked.

‶
All of them,″ he said.
‶
According
to Carver, they are singing like birds. Where are Morgan and Jack?″

‶
Outside with the
Lewistons,″ Clarence said.
‶
Hart and Morgan went out first.
Mrs. Lewiston followed a few minutes later. I guess this means they won′t
be needing my services,″ Jacob said with a smile.

‶
I think not. We have to be
sure, but with what we have on Chung and his cronies and what they tried to do,
I′m sure their government will be willing to accept anything we present
to keep the scandal off the front pages.″

Jacob nodded.
‶
It would be awful to discover
that the presidential candidate was trying to kill the daughter of an American
icon.″

Clarence nodded. He heard the chopper blades as
the helicopter returning Senator Lewiston and his wife took off.

‶
Why don′t you deliver the
good news to the happy couple,′′ Clarence said to Jacob.
″I′ll let Ashleigh know.″

***

Jack slipped his arm around Morgan as they
walked back toward the house. The chopper carrying Hart and Carla Lewiston back
to Andrews Air Force Base, where they would enter their limousine for the trip
back into D.C., was overhead. The sound of the blades beating the air became
fainter and fainter. Morgan didn′t know how long it would be before that
sound didn′t set her teeth on edge. Likewise the cars with Jacob, Forrest
and Brian had also left for their return to the city. They were alone except
for the staff. Morgan leaned into him and he tightened his arm around her.

‶
How did you like him?″

‵
′I don′t
know,′′ she said.
‶
If we had time I suppose I could get used to the
idea, but. . .″ She left the sentence trailing. They didn′t have
enough time. She was scheduled to leave tomorrow for the program. He
wouldn′t see her again after tonight. She didn′t even know it yet.
Jack put off telling her until after Hart could get here and go.

He′d watched the two of them when the
rotors started to turn. Carla had already entered the aircraft. Father and
daughter faced each other awkwardly. Neither knew what to do. Jack put his hand
on Morgan′s back and pushed her. She hugged Hart like a stilted doll. He
squeezed her and closed his eyes. Jack thought he genuinely would miss her.

They both would.

Inside, Morgan excused herself to go to her
room.

‶
Before you go,″ Jack
stopped her.
‶
I
have some news for you.″

‶
I hope it′s good news.″

‶
It is.″

She waited for him to say something.

‶
Well,″ she said.
‶
Tell
me.″

Jack smiled.
‶
I told Jacob I was going into
the program with you.″

A smile the size of the entire Commonwealth of
Virginia spread across her face.

‶
But. . .″ he trailed off.

‶
But?″ She waited
expecting bad news was coming

‶
But they caught the Koreans
tonight. You won′t be going into the program.″

Morgan opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came
out. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
‶
Are
you sure, Jack?″

‶
I′m sure.″

‶
Are you really sure?″

He pulled her in his arms.
‶
On
my honor.″ Jack didn′t think good news would make her cry. He knew
she was happy, but her tears hurt him. He didn′t ask her to stop or push
her away. He held her just as he had in that closet twelve years ago until she
stopped.

She stepped back when her emotions were under
control.
‶
I′d
better go wash my face,″ she said.

‶
All right, Red.″

She laughed through the tears and started for
the stairs.

Jack started his nightly routine of making sure
everything was secure. He checked the outside perimeter, contacting each of the
stationed agents, making sure everything was secure. Then he′d go through
all the downstairs rooms, looking for anything out of place, unlocked or
unsecured. His hand was on the doorknob of the drawing room when the microphone
in his ear activated.

‶
Jack, someone′s just come
over the fence on the south wall.″

‶
How many?″

‶
Three, but I think there are
more.″

‶
Take care of them. I′m
going to secure Morgan.″

He took the steps three at a time. Without
knocking, he burst through the door of Morgan′s room. She was in front of
the mirror, pulling her hair down. She′d changed from the red dress and
wore a white robe. She shifted when he opened the door.

‶
What′s wrong?″

His face must have told her something was
happening.

‶
Don′t leave this
room,″ Jack said and pulled the door closed. He went back down the
stairs, speaking into the mike as he went.
‶
Where are they now?″

‶
There are six of them and
they′re heading for the house. They′ve spread out.″

‶
Any around the back?″

‶
The back is secure.″

‶
Take them down,″ Jack
ordered.
‶
All
other areas report.″

‶
Caldwell, secure.″

‶
Markum, secure.″

‶
Greene, secure.″

One by one they reported in. The only place it
appeared they had penetrated was along the south wall.

‶
You know what to do,″
Jack spoke to the group.

He headed toward the south. Gunfire startled
him. He hit the dirt, keeping his head down. Short bursts broke the silence.
Jack crawled toward the sound. He pulled infrared glasses from a pocket near his
gun and put them on. The world took on a red glow, and only the hot spots moved
in the surreal world. With his gun in his hand, he chambered a shell and
started toward the gunfire.

‶
Damn,″ he cursed after
moving only a few feet. The helicopter was back. And it was landing. What was
Lewiston doing here? He didn′t need him too. He was a hanging target up
there. Then the light came on and shone directly on the target. Jack smiled.
‶
Thank
you, Hart.″ He was showing them where the assailants were.

‶
They′re retreating,″
he heard one of the agents say.

‶
Don′t let them get
away,′′ Jack replied. They′d been chasing him too long. He
wanted to know who they were and what they wanted.

The helicopter continued to follow the
retreating men, keeping its light trained on them. Jack saw a hot spot through
his glasses. The person extended his arm, aiming for the chopper. Lying on his
stomach, Jack gripped his handgun with both hands, aimed and pulled the
trigger. He heard the short scream of pain as the bullet found its mark. Jack
had aimed for his shoulder. He wanted him alive. He wanted to look this one in
the eye and make him tell the complete and utter truth.

He wanted to know who was really masterminding
this operation. With everyone dead they would only be buying time until another
assault could be planned or she went into the program. Jack wanted to prevent
that if he could.

Another short burst of gunfire stopped his
movement.

‶
This is Chandler. I′ve
got two of them.″

‶
Are they alive?″ Jack
shot back.

‶
Yes.″

‶
Rayfield, two dead in front of
me.″

‶
Tomlison, report,″ Jack
barked into his microphone.

‶
This is Tomlison. I′m
outside the fence. I got two coming over.″

‶
I′ve got one down, but
not secure by the west wall,″ Jack had to shout over the sound of the
landing chopper.

‶
Neville here. I′m behind
him, Jack.″ In seconds Jack saw the man he′d shot raising his good
hand. Neville was on him, handcuffing him.

‶
Taylor?″ The only female
on the detail hadn′t reported.

‶
I′m outside a truck about
five hundred feet north of the front gate.′′ Her voice was
distinctive, low and purring as if she could roll all the letters in the
alphabet. ″There are two men inside. I could use some backup.″

‶
Innis here,″ her partner
identified himself.
‶
I′m on my way.″

Jack got up from the ground.
‶
Bring
them in,″ he ordered.
‶
Greene, make sure Mr. Lewiston and his wife are
safe.″

‶
On my way,″ Greene
replied.

***

Morgan pulled a shirt over her head and grabbed
her jeans. She wasn′t staying here. She heard gunfire outside. Where was
Jack? He was heading for it. He could get killed. She tried to put her jeans on
while running. She tripped and hopped, all the while pulling at the stubborn
pants. When she got them on, she slipped her sockless feet into sneakers,
taking no time to tie the laces.

She heard more gunfire and then the helicopter.
What now?
she thought. If she never
heard another helicopter it would be too soon. Yanking the door inward, she
rushed into the hall. As she turned toward the front stairs a man stepped in
front of her. Her heart lurched into her throat. He pointed a black gun at her.

‶
That′s far enough,″
he said. He was dressed entirely in black. This one was only as tall as she
was, but he was burly enough to knock the air out of her with only a swat.

Morgan stopped on the balls of her feet. She
rocked back, feeling as if he′d pushed her.

‶
Who are you?″ she asked,
fear so evident in her voice she could hardly speak.

‶
Who I am is unimportant.″

‶
What do you want?″

‶
More than you′ve
got,″ he replied, reminding her of the green giant.
‶
Now
do what I say and we′ll both be happy. That way.″ He indicated an
area behind her. Morgan took a couple of steps backward. She didn′t want
to take her eyes off the gun. She didn′t know this house. It was supposed
to be safe. How did this man get up here? He wasn′t part of the staff.
She′d met all of them. Hadn′t Jack just told her the danger was
over?

She had to turn or she′d trip. Morgan
knew if she did, he would use the gun as a club and she had no desire to be
pistol-whipped. The walls had portraits on them. At the far end was a doorway
that led to the back stairs. There was nothing between her and the door she
could use. And this man had a gun pointed at her heart. She could do many
things, but outrunning a bullet wasn′t one of them.

Opening the door, she started down the stairs.
His hand grabbed her shoulder.
‶
Not so fast.″ She felt the cold steel through
the T-shirt as he poked the gun in her back. Slowly she walked down the stairs.
They ended up in the kitchen. Morgan hoped there would be someone there to help
her, like Jack. She was disappointed. The room was empty.

Food and dishes in various stages of cleanup
were spread about the room. The center island would have been huge in a normal
kitchen but it fit this one. Above it was a massive wrought iron frame. Only a
few of the gleaming copper pots hung from it. The rest were on the counter, the
table and the sink. Morgan wondered where the kitchen help was. She
hadn′t heard any shots in the house, but there were other ways of killing
people without bullets. She hoped they were all right. She hoped she could
count on them for help.

‶
Through the door,″ he
commanded.

Where was anybody? This place had a normal
staff of ten, not including the gardeners. Tonight, with the dinner and Hart
Lewiston in attendance, there was a complement of people at the house. She
heard another burst of gunfire and jumped. She couldn′t help glancing
over her shoulder at the door to the front of the house.

‶
Don′t look for
help,″ the menacing voice said.
‶
And if you think Jack Temple will
come to your rescue, believe me when I tell you he′s probably dead
now.″

Jack. Dead. Her heart sank, stopped, then
lurched. She turned and pierced him with her eyes.
‶
Jack is not
dead,″ she spoke as if to a young child she was angry with.

‶
You hope,″ he said with
as much venom as she had.

A door opened in the front of the house.
Footsteps and voices reached her. The square man was distracted a second. He
looked toward the door. Morgan didn′t think. This was going to be her
only chance to get help. She took two running steps and grabbed the frame
hanging from the ceiling. Swinging across the array of pots on the counter, her
feet scattered them as she arced to the other side. Hitting the floor she let
go of the frame and pivoted to face her killer. He was raising the gun. Morgan
went down and grasped the legs of the butcher block counter. She heaved it up.
The bullet struck it, pitching shards of wood. She′d wonder later how she
lifted the heavy table. The footsteps increased.