Pandora's Box Read online

  She compressed her lips, refusing to ask the question. Boracci wasn’t going to give her a satisfactory answer anyway. She put her mind on a different track instead.

  “I don’t understand why you didn’t just give the president a microchip and make him do what you wanted.”

  “Don’t think we didn’t consider it. Unfortunately since Malcom knew about the microchips he would have been suspicious the first time he had time missing from his day.” Boracci shook his head slowly. “Besides Malcom made sure you Secret Service people were always around him. No way for us to make him disappear for a couple of hours. No time to implant him even if we wanted to.”

  He coughed again, harder this time, his lungs probably filling with blood.

  She said, “Tyler took Marc’s pulse and told me he was dead. Was Tyler lying to me for some reason, or had Roxie programmed him to say it?”

  “It was all part of the plan, honey. We left nothing to chance. You and Tyler have been starring in our off-Broadway play without even knowing it. You’ve said your lines, taken your cues, everything on the mark.”

  He laughed, and for a moment she hoped he would die.

  “What is she planning to do with Tyler?” Madison asked.

  “He’s the assassin. He’s supposed to kill his father, the president. Roxie’s been getting together with him. I believe he left you alone in your father’s cabin to meet with her and give her information on you.”

  So Tyler had been with Roxie, under her influence while he’d been thinking he was on a simple trip down to Reno. Oh why hadn’t she seen it?

  “What about me? What about DeMarco? What were we programmed for?”

  Boracci’s eyes began to drift shut.

  Madison shook him. He had to stay awake at least long enough to give her some vital information. “Answer me.”

  “You were the decoy,” he said. “Everyone was supposed to believe you wanted to kill the president. Then they would be watching you and not Tyler."

  “And DeMarco?”

  “He did his job.” Boracci coughed up a bit of blood. “He stayed close to you, kept your trust, and planted the bomb on the plane. He waited until you got off before he detonated it. I wanted you alive until after Malcom was dead.”

  He slumped over and Madison suspected he didn’t have much time left. She pulled her cell out and called 911 for an ambulance. The gangster had already lost too much blood. He was pure evil, but she didn’t want him to die from Tyler’s bullet because Tyler shouldn’t have to live with the guilt.

  After she put her cell away, DeMarco, still strapped to a nearby gurney, turned his face in her direction. He frowned. “I don’t know you.”

  Madison glared at him.

  He continued. “I remember having breakfast with you in pajamas. You wore blue ones with little clouds on them. We had a fight about keeping our affair a secret.” Madison remembered that argument. He continued on, dazed. “But it isn’t right. I was alone that year, just me and a dog. What happened to my dog?” He stared at her and his lips trembled. “I think they killed my dog when they made me forget things. They wanted me to think we were together, but we weren’t. I didn’t even know you before you came to work for the service.”

  He was right.

  She had two sets of memories now, too. There were memories about Tyler and then there were memories about DeMarco, and the time span of each set overlapped each other. Which ones were real?

  Madison concentrated hard, tried to remember sharing another dinner with DeMarco besides the one they both remembered. Nothing. She tried to recall something new, a memory she hadn’t already gone over a thousand times. Nothing. But when she thought about Tyler more and more memories swam into focus.

  She got up and went over to DeMarco, stared down at him for a moment, and tried to figure out if she could trust him enough to turn him loose. Either his microchip had been turned off and his real memories were returning or he was setting her up again. It could all be another trick, but she didn’t think so. He was a mess.

  She asked, “What was your dog’s name?”

  “Butler.” No hesitation. He spoke the name with warmth and sincerity and she believed him. He’d had a dog named Butler, a dog he had loved, and they’d taken the dog away when they’d given him the implant. Probably because they couldn’t give the dog false memories of her. Someone might have thought it was suspicious if the dog had been constantly barking at her even though she was supposed to have been with DeMarco for months, living in the apartment with him and his dog.

  She released DeMarco from his bonds and helped him to his feet. He wobbled slightly. His arm went around her shoulders and he leaned on her. She heard sirens in the distance. They had to get away quick.

  ******

  Chapter Seventeen

  After returning from Las Vegas, Madison spent a sleepless night in her own bed. She turned, twisted, and kicked the hours away, worried for Tyler. Would she ever see him again?

  In the morning she called the White House and insisted on scheduling a meeting with the first lady. She had to bite her tongue when the secretary told her the first lady was indisposed and probably would be all day. Vivian Law was still pretending to be a drunk, and Madison had no choice but to go along with it. For now.

  Madison told the secretary to ring the woman’s bedroom where she was resting and tell her there was an urgent message concerning her son. If the first lady cared about Tyler at all, she’d agree to see Madison.

  A meeting was set for that very hour.

  Madison hurried to the White House and did her best to avoid being seen by anyone who might tell the president she was on the grounds. She was taken to the first lady’s bedroom, a room across the hall from her husband’s.

  Once they were alone, Madison went to the bed and stared down at the woman. Give her an Academy Award already and be done with it!

  Vivian Law, Martini glass in hand, held a wet cloth to her forehead.

  “Oh, what is it? It’s too early in the morning for anything depressing. Is this about my husband? Did he send you?”

  “You can save the act for someone who’s impressed,” Madison said. “I know you aren’t a drunk. I tasted your Martini the other day. So why don’t you tell me why you’re pretending to be a lush before I go public with it.”

  Vivian Law leaped out of bed. Her Martini glass fell to the floor but didn’t break. She grabbed Madison by the shoulders. “Please, no, you can’t say a word to anyone. If Malcom finds out I’ve been faking, he’ll kill me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “My plan is to stay alive.” The first lady picked her white satin robe off the edge of the bed and pulled it over the matching pajamas. “I was a fool to marry that man, but I grew up dirt poor and desperate for the good life. We agreed to fake a good marriage in public, live separately in private, and divorce once we left the White House.” Her voice drifted away as if she was traveling back in time. “I’ve seen a different side of Malcom since then. I don’t think he wants to sully his good name with a divorce. I expect he was thinking about killing me.”

  Madison shook her head. “Am I supposed to believe the president, a man who has survived three assassination attempts, has been plotting to kill you?”

  “Believe what you want.” The first lady shrugged. There was a deep sadness in her eyes that would have been hard to fake. “Malcom is a charming man. He had me fooled for years. Then one day I saw the real him and it scared the living hell out of me, enough to make me pretend to be a horrible drunk.

  “Don’t you understand, dear? If I make a big enough fool out of myself in public, no one will blame him for cutting me loose. He’ll see the benefit of having me alive then. People will feel sorry for him. They’ll admire him when he presses on despite having a drunk and a cheat for a wife.”

  Madison let the words sink in slowly and added it to the things she knew. She had always thought of the president as a good man, but lately certain negative things ha
d come to light. A twisted scenario sprang to mind. If Malcom Law was a man willing to do anything for power, he could be working with Roxie. Every time someone tried to kill the president, his popularity skyrocketed.

  “Have you heard anything about Pandora’s Box?” she asked.

  “You mean the story, the myth? I think I read it when I was a child. Why?”

  “Not the myth. It’s an invention of Grainger’s. Someone is either using it to have your husband assassinated, or your husband is using it to make it look like someone is after him.”

  The first lady shrugged. “I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

  Madison remembered the first lady was still a suspect on her growing list. She watched the woman’s eyes as she said, “I know you’re in love with the vice-president.”

  “I told you I’m a cheat. It’s part of the plan. People will rally behind Malcom when they know I’ve committed adultery.” She shrugged. “I’m willing to weather anything, even a terrible scandal, as long as Malcom lets me leave this marriage in one piece.”

  Madison might have lost her mind, but she believed the first lady and mentally took her off the suspect list. Mercer, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. He could be using the first lady, setting her up to take the rap for her husband’s murder, while Mercer settled comfortably into the Oval Office.

  Madison’s eyes fell on a photograph of Tyler with his mom. She went to it, picked it up, and stared at the handsome face she might never see again.

  “You have a thing for my son, don’t you?” The first lady took the picture from Madison’s numb hands and replaced it on the nightstand. “He’s nothing like his father, I’m proud to say. I think the two of you would make beautiful babies.”

  Madison blushed.

  The first lady added, “Although I’m sure you don’t care, you have my blessing.”

  “Have you seen or heard from Tyler recently?” Madison asked.

  “Not since he had that closed-door meeting with my husband after Malcom sent the jet for the two of you. I heard the plane exploded. Thank God neither one of you were injured.”

  “Please call me right away if you see or hear anything. He could be in big trouble.”

  The closet opened and Mercer stepped out. “There’s something you should know, Agent Grey.”

  Madison jumped, startled. She stared at the vice-president with wide eyes. Disbelief was written all over her face. It was too ridiculous to be real. The lover was hiding out in the closet?

  Mercer continued, “I’ve been secretly working with the CIA along with Tyler Law to expose the president’s lies. Tyler calls me at regular intervals, but I haven’t heard from him in three days.”

  The vice-president had been working with Tyler this whole time and Tyler hadn’t said a word to her. Once again she felt betrayed. She squelched it down, buried it deep. Finding Tyler and saving him from Roxie’s twisted plan had to come first. Then she’d deal with the rest of the garbage.

  “Roxie has him,” Madison said. “She’s the one implanting the microchips in people. You must know all about Pandora’s Box.” She waited for him to nod once. Then she continued. “I don’t know if she’s working alone or has an accomplice. She had her father shot, so it’s a safe bet that she’s not working with him anymore.”

  “Good to know.” Mercer circled the bed and put his arms around the first lady. Vivian Law almost melted. He added, “I would appreciate your discretion on this matter. I know you don’t owe me anything, especially not after the way I attacked you following your father’s death, but—.”

  She waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I have more important matters on my mind, like saving Tyler.”

  “Let me know if you need anything. The CIA is at your disposal.”

  Well, that was a switch.

  “There is one thing you can do for me. You can answer a question. Are you the one who asked Tyler to compile a file on Pandora’s Box?”

  He nodded slightly.

  She asked, “Do you have the file?”

  “It’s in a safe at my home.”

  “Who killed Agent Warner?”

  The vice-president sighed and rubbed his forehead. “President Law has a few agents on his private payroll. They killed Warner in an attempt to get the file, find out who knew about the Box, and silence us for good. Fortunately Tyler is exceptional in the field.”

  The first lady said, “My son has an apartment. I’m the only one who knows the address. He wanted somewhere other than a motel room to hide out in whenever he felt the need for it.” She quickly jotted down the address. “Maybe you should check here.”

  Without another word, she walked out.

  Madison left the White House in a hurry, praying she wouldn’t run into the president on her way out. As luck would have it, he was in a meeting. She fast-walked to the end of the drive and grabbed a taxi.

  Somehow she was going to find Tyler and stop him from killing his father.

  ******

  Three tension-filled days slid by at a snail’s pace without a word from or about Tyler. Roxie was keeping him under wraps somewhere. Perhaps she knew about the other remote, the one that Madison kept hidden from prying eyes. Horrible images filled Madison’s mind every time she allowed her thoughts to stray to Tyler’s whereabouts. Roxie could have him under lock and key or she could have killed him.

  The latter probably wasn’t true. Roxie wanted Tyler to kill the president. Madison doubted the plan had changed. At the very least Roxie would want to use Tyler against her. He'd shot at her. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his cold expression as he pulled the trigger. Lucky for her she had awesome reflexes.

  Madison went to the graveyard at dusk. She knelt at the grave, grateful for a place to go to visit her mother.

  It was a shame their family had been torn apart so neatly through her mother’s murder. She wished her mother had divorced her dad while Madison had been a baby. They would have been better off without him. Madison pulled a stray weed from the ground and carelessly tossed it aside. She pressed her fingers to her mother’s name, tracing it over and over. “I wish you were here with me now.”

  A throat cleared behind her, startling her. She jumped to her feet, spun around, a hand going to the gun beneath her long coat. A strange man stood there in tattered clothing. Threat assessment: this guy didn’t mean her any harm. She relaxed, moving her hand to her side.

  “You Madison Grey?” he asked.

  She nodded. Before her head had bobbed twice the man thrust a metal box into her hands. She asked, “What is this?”

  “Your father told me to give it to you if he died. Sorry it took me so long to find you.”

  The old man wobbled away quickly, leaving her holding the box. He looked like a homeless man. She wondered if her father had given him an implant and programmed him to give her the box. She stared down at it in disbelief. Was this Pandora’s Box? She lifted it close to her ear and shook it. A slight rustling was all she heard. Papers. Probably important papers.

  It had a lock on it, but the man hadn’t given her a key. She yelled, “Wait!”

  Too late. The homeless man had vanished from view.

  Holding the box close to her chest, she left the cemetery. As soon as she got it home, she’d pick the lock. Then her father’s secrets would belong to her along with the rest of his estate. Her feet moved faster.

  As she hurried to the truth, she remembered the story of Pandora’s Box. If she opened the box, would she release a plague on the world?

  ******

  Two hours later Madison still hadn’t opened it.

  She listened to the falling rain pelt the windows of Tyler’s apartment. Since his disappearance she’d spent almost every waking hour there, hoping he’d come strolling through the door as if nothing had gone wrong. Freshly showered, she’d slipped on one of Tyler’s button-down shirts. It still smelled like him, total masculinity.

  She had lain down on Tyler’s couch, ready for a lo
ng night. One thing she couldn’t bring herself to do was sleep in his bed. Not without him. She looked at the metal box on his coffee table. Her father’s Pandora’s Box. Now that she had it she was reluctant to open it. Hard to believe her father had kept secrets from her. Yet the proof rested inside that box.

  Madison resisted the urge to open it. Her mind returned to Tyler again and again. She wanted him with her for moral support when she opened it. He’d earned the right. Hadn’t he traveled the country with her searching for answers? Hadn’t he tried to clear her father’s name?

  Bolting upright, she opened her pack of tools and removed the pick she thought would best fit the lock. Humming to herself, she entered the lock with the pick and used it to feel around. Finding the catch, she pushed it to the left, releasing it. An audible snap met her ears.

  Holding her breath, she flipped the lid open. There was a stack of papers in a variety of sizes. On the top was the DNA test her father had taken to prove he wasn’t Roxie’s father. Roxie and Rico had told the truth on that one. Madison’s fingers shook as she set the paper aside and moved onto the next. So many secrets. So many lies.

  Madison’s heart tripled in tempo. Panic set in. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Still she pressed on, needing the truth more than wanting it.

  In a short time she learned her father had always suspected his wife had been murdered. Apparently her mother had been against his association with the other three power hungry men and had threatened Duncan with a divorce several times. Madison also discovered her paternal grandparents were still among the living, and her father had been accused of treason once before she was born.

  Too much information hit her in quick succession like well-aimed bullets.

  She felt like her head might explode.

  She couldn’t handle another dark secret.

  Madison slammed the box shut again. She crumpled the pieces of paper in her hands before throwing them to the floor. Jumping up from the couch, she made a beeline for the bathroom. She went to her knees in front of the toilet and dry-heaved. Her head pounded harder. She gripped the toilet seat with both hands and prayed her stomach would settle.