Intimate Knowledge

by Amanda Stevens

  “Get rid of the problem…” Nervously, the man licked his lips. “It was bad enough what you did to Tonio Vargas, but you kill a federal agent and you’ll have the whole damn government coming after us.”

  “Not if you do as I say.”

  He shook his head. “I want out. I didn’t sign on for murder.”

  The man in the back seat leaned forward suddenly and grinned. “Then it’s lucky for you that I did, amigo.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Penelope kept an eye out for Simon all night, but she had no idea where Avery might have stationed him. She knew that he was around, though, and that gave her a measure of confidence as she tried to go about her business as best she could.

  She watched from the sidelines as Avery took to the podium in the main gallery and the guests all found their seats for the auction. She surveyed the crowd. They’d had a good turnout for the event, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. But, of course, they didn’t know what she knew.

  She picked her family out of the crowd. Her mother and father were seated toward the front, but Ariadne, who had come in late, found a place in the back row, no doubt where she could easily slip away early. Surprisingly, Grayson had come alone. Helen was nowhere to be seen, and Penelope couldn’t help wondering if they’d had another fight.

  Grayson had been studying the program, but suddenly he lifted his head and stared at Penelope. A cold chill shot through her, although she had no idea why.

  She returned his nod, then quickly looked away, wondering why her brother-in-law suddenly made her so uneasy.

  In the nearly seven years that Grayson and Helen had been together, Penelope had never known him to be anything other than a devoted husband and an ambitious businessman. But how ambitious was he?

  Had it really come to this? she wondered desperately. She’d once had a fairly rosy view of the world, but now she looked at everyone as a possible suspect, including her own family.

  Just as the auction was about to get under way, Jane tapped Penelope on the shoulder, then motioned for her to follow her out into the hallway.

  “What is it?” Penelope asked worriedly when she saw how agitated the older woman appeared to be.

  Jane frowned. “I hope it’s nothing, but that security guard you were asking about earlier? Larry Jones?”

  Penelope’s heart quickened. “What about him?”

  “I just saw him and he asked me to get a message to you. He needs to see you. He said it’s urgent.” She clutched Penelope’s arm. “Do you suppose there’s been another break-in?”

  “I don’t know.” Penelope’s heart started to knock against her chest as she thought about the possibilities. “Where is he?”

  “I can show you, but…” Jane’s grasp tightened on her arm. “I don’t think you should go alone.”

  Penelope tried to keep the panic from her own voice. “It’s okay. Just tell me where he is.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Jane said stubbornly. “So don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

  Penelope hesitated, then nodded. She didn’t have time to argue. Besides, it probably wasn’t a good idea for her to leave the auction alone, even if Avery was occupied. She had no idea who else might be lurking in the museum, and while Jane might not provide all that much protection, she could at least use a cell phone. Or scream bloody murder if it came to that. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Jane started down the hall. “He’s in one of the back offices,” she said over her shoulder. “This way.”

  Several small rooms opened off the main corridor. They were used primarily for storage, but a few had been cleared out to make office space for the temporary summer help the museum employed. Jane paused in front of the door nearest the rear entrance and looked back at Penelope. Then she knocked, opened the door and stepped back for Penelope to enter.

  She hurried inside and glanced around. The room was empty.

  “Where is he?” She turned back to Jane and froze.

  The older woman’s hand appeared completely steady as she lifted the weapon. “Looks like we just missed him.”

  Penelope went cold with shock. She remained fixated on the gun for what seemed an eternity, and then comprehension set in. “Oh, my God, it was you. Not Avery…”

  Someone rapped on the door, and Penelope whirled toward the entrance. Before she could shout out a warn ing, Jane said, “Quiet. I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if I have to.”

  Keeping one eye on Penelope, Jane opened the door a crack, glanced out, then drew it back to allow the newcomer to slip in. He was a tall man, around forty, with a weak chin and a receding hairline. He looked vaguely familiar, and Penelope suddenly remembered where she’d seen him. He’d left the restaurant in Mexico right after Tonio Vargas.

  “You know what to do with her,” Jane said.

  The man grinned and pulled his own weapon. “My pleasure.”

  Penelope backed away from him. “You won’t get away with this. The museum is full of people.”

  “And if you make a sound,” Jane warned her, “Dirk and I might just have to shoot our way out of this place. You wouldn’t want that, now would you? Think of all those innocent people out there that could get hurt. Think of your family. I know exactly where each of them is seated. If I start firing in the general vicinity, one of them will most likely take a hit.”

  “Why?” Penelope whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

  Jane’s face hardened. “You don’t need to know why, won’t do you any good where you’re going.”

  The man she called Dirk stuck the barrel of his gun against Penelope’s ribs as he grabbed her arm. “Come on, now. We’re going to take a little walk. Get some fresh air.”

  He led her from the room into the hallway. Penelope could hear Avery’s voice over the speakers. The auction was just getting started. Everyone, including her parents and her sister, would still be in their seats. She had no idea if Jane would make good on her threat or not, but it wasn’t a chance Penelope was willing to take. All she could do at the moment was cooperate and look for an opportunity to escape.

  Dirk’s grasp tightened on her arm as he guided her through the rear exit. Outside, he pulled her toward the maze.

  Penelope balked. “Where are we going?”

  “Inside.” He gave her a push toward a gap in the hedge. “Keep walking.”

  The boxwood hedges were eight feet high and so thickly planted that Penelope might as well have been surrounded by a brick wall. There was no way to escape.

  She walked slowly, following his directions and trying to remember all the twists and turns that they took. But after a few moments, she became hopelessly lost. She’d studied the maze countless times from her office window, but being inside was different. She tried to picture the layout in her mind, but it was no use.

  After a few moments, the man told her to stop. Dropping to one knee, he swiped aside a layer of dirt and leaves to reveal a metal door, which he opened.

  Then he stood and grabbed her arm, pulling her over to the edge. Penelope stared down into what seemed like an abyss. “What is this place?”

  He gestured with his gun. “Down the steps, or I’ll throw you down them myself.”

  He gave her a shove, and Penelope gasped as she tot tered on the edge before she finally regained her balance. Then slowly she started down the steps. At the bottom, she glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything beyond the stairs.

  A terror like nothing she’d ever experienced seized her. “You can’t leave me in here,” she cried. “Please…”

  “There’s a light switch to your right,” he said. “At least you won’t have to die in the dark.”

  Die? She was going to die?

  Penelope rushed back up the stairs, but it was too late. He slammed the door shut, and when she threw her shoulder against it, the metal didn’t so much as budge. She kept trying until she was exhausted and out of breath, and then feeling her way back down the
stairs, she groped along the wall for the light switch.

  The first thing she saw in the flare of the harsh yellow light was a body lying facedown on the concrete floor. Penelope screamed, and then, when the body moved, she screamed again.

  The man groaned, and summoning her courage, Penelope dropped to the floor beside him. Rolling him over, she cried out again when she saw who he was. “Simon! Oh, my God. Simon?”

  She patted his cheeks until his eyes fluttered open. He was still dazed, and she let him lie quietly for a few moments until he slowly became oriented. Then he said in confusion, “Penelope. What…happened…?”

  She closed her eyes briefly as she squeezed his hand. “Oh, thank God…” Then she saw the blood on his hand where he’d lifted it to the back of his head, and her stomach lurched. “You’re hurt. We have to get you out of here.”

  He tried to sit up, but groaned in pain and fell back against the floor. “Where is ‘here’?”

  “I don’t know.” Penelope scanned the tiny cell-like enclosure. “We’re underground, but it’s too small to be the basement.” For his sake, she tried to fight off the panic that threatened to engulf her. “Simon, we had it all wrong. Avery isn’t involved. It’s Jane. Jane Baker.”

  He struggled again to sit up. Penelope put one arm around his waist to help support him.

  “Did you hear what I said? Jane Baker is behind this. She pulled a gun on me, and a man she called Dirk brought me here.”

  Simon was on his knees now and when he didn’t respond, Penelope knelt in front of him and put a hand to his cheek. “Simon?”

  “I heard you, Penelope.”

  “Then why—” She stopped short when she saw the look in his eyes. “Oh, my God, you knew about Jane all along, didn’t you?”

  He put a tentative hand to the back of his head to check the bleeding. Wincing, he said, “We suspected. The first thing we did was run a background check on everyone associated with the museum. Jane Baker had some pretty serious flags on her records.”

  “What kind of flags?”

  “For one thing, she’s traveled extensively over the past few years. Buenos Aires, Paris, Istanbul. And she’s been known to associate with some pretty unsavory characters.”

  Penelope could hardly imagine that. The Jane she knew had been almost like a mother figure to her. At the very least, she’d been a close friend and confidante. She’d offered Penelope a ready shoulder and a willing ear time and again after Simon’s accident, and now to think that she’d had an ulterior motive for her kindness…

  “Back in the eighties, her husband worked for an oil company with leases all over South America,” Simon was saying. “He was taken hostage by a rebel faction in Peru in 1989. They wanted to broker a prisoner exchange, and when our government refused to negotiate, Baker was executed. Instead of blaming the men who carried out the execution, Jane lashed out at the government. Her outspoken rebukes garnered a fair amount of interest from the press and from certain factions both here and abroad. We believe that’s when one or more of those factions made contact with her, and she began to dabble in subversive activities.”

  “She’s doing this for revenge?” Penelope asked incredulously. “She would willingly associate with the kind of people who killed her husband in order to avenge his death? That doesn’t make sense, Simon.”

  “It makes sense to her. Grief can sometimes twist logic in a peculiar way. And don’t forget about the money. The people she works for are undoubtedly paying her a fortune, and she’s become accustomed to a pretty lavish lifestyle.”

  Penelope shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. I thought she was my friend. I confided in her…” Her gaze lifted to Simon’s. “Is there anyone left I can trust?”

  He cupped her face with his hands. “You can trust me,” he said fiercely. “I know it may not seem like it now, but you can. I’d lay down my life for you.”

  The intensity in his voice made her shiver. Penelope wanted more than anything to believe him. But after everything that had happened, trust was something she couldn’t readily give him. “I wish I didn’t love you,” she whispered.

  He winced, as if her words were like a dagger through her heart. “Let’s just concentrate on finding a way out of here right now. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

  Penelope nodded and helped him to his feet. He had a quick look around, but there wasn’t much to see. The place was empty. Nothing but concrete floors and walls and a single lightbulb suspended from a concrete ceiling. “I think this must be an old bomb shelter.”

  “Why would a museum have a bomb shelter?”

  “A lot of public places had them built during the Second World War,” he said. “It’s hard to imagine now, I guess, but there was a very real fear back then of a German invasion. Not to mention saboteurs. Then during the Cold War, some of the shelters were refitted with lead linings, in case of a nuclear explosion.”

  “A lead lining?” Penelope’s heart thudded in alarm. “Do you think this is where they plan to hide the cesium?”

  “It’s possible—” Simon broke off as he spun toward the stairs. “Did you hear that?”

  Penelope shook her head. She hadn’t heard anything.

  He put a fingertip to his lips as he started toward the stairs. Putting a foot on the bottom step, he motioned for her to get behind him.

  The door opened a crack, and a woman’s voice said softly, “Hello? Is anyone down there?”

  Penelope expected Simon to rush her, but instead, he collapsed against the wall and let out a breath of relief as the woman came down the stairs toward them.

  Penelope stared at her in disbelief.

  “About time you got here,” Simon grumbled.

  Helen shrugged. “Better late than never.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “What is going on here?” Penelope demanded. She felt as if she’d suddenly been transported to some strange new dimension. A dimension where she was the dumb sister and Helen was the bright one. “Helen, why do you have a gun? Why are you and Simon acting as if the two of you are best friends when you barely know each other?”

  Helen glanced at Simon. “Do you want me to tell her or shall I?”

  Simon couldn’t quite meet Penelope’s eyes and for good reason. Here was yet another deception.

  Penelope felt like bursting into tears. “Someone had better tell me,” she warned.

  “Simon and I work together,” Helen said.

  “Work together?” Penelope repeated incredulously. She turned to Simon. “Is that true?”

  He shrugged. “Not exactly. Your sister is my superior.”

  Penelope’s mouth dropped. Helen? The perennial beauty queen was a federal agent?

  “I hate to pull rank,” she said, “but we’ve got to get moving.” She turned and raced back up the steps. “Hurry up!”

  Simon all but dragged Penelope up the steps, and just as they emerged into the darkness, a bullet ricocheted off the metal door. Simon pushed Penelope to the ground and shielded her with his body. Helen had also hit the dirt. “It came from over there,” she said. “If he’s on the viewing platform with night vision, we’re sitting ducks in here.”

  “We’ll split up,” Simon said. “Give him more than one target to worry about.”

  Helen tossed him her gun, then pulled another from her purse. “I’ll give you cover. Just get Penelope out of here.”

  This couldn’t be real, Penelope kept telling herself as she and Simon crawled beneath the hedges, keeping to the deepest part of the shadow. She had not just been shot at. Simon wasn’t out of his coma. Her sister wasn’t a federal agent who suddenly seemed every bit as capable as a female James Bond.

  Penelope had been crawling behind Simon for several minutes when he suddenly stopped, turned back and put a finger to his lips for silence. She heard it then. The unmistakable sound of labored breathing. Someone was standing on the other side of the hedge, mere inches away.

  Penelope got Simon’s attention and
mouthed, “Helen?”

  He shook his head. Motioning for her to remain where she was, he began to crawl toward an opening in the hedge. When he’d disappeared through the passage, Penelope lifted a hand to her mouth, trying to control her own ragged breathing.

  She heard a soft thud and the sound of a body hitting the dirt. Then the leaves over her head exploded as a bullet plowed its way through the hedge, and she clapped both hands to her mouth to keep from screaming.

  She wanted to call out Simon’s name to assure herself he hadn’t been hit, but if he was down and she gave her position away…

  There was nothing she could do but wait it out. Several minutes went by. It seemed like an eternity during which time Penelope imagined all sorts of dire scenarios. Simon could be bleeding to death, just inches away from her. How would she be able to live with herself if she didn’t try to help him?

  If Simon could come back, he would have, she reasoned. Something was wrong. He wouldn’t just leave her here like this…would he? Would he willingly sacrifice her for the sake of the mission?

  “There’s more at stake here than just you and me.”

  As the ominous warning came back to her now, Penelope began to crawl on her hands and knees toward the next opening.

  As she moved into the adjoining pathway, she could see something in the shadows ahead of her. A dark form that looked like a body…

  Simon! Her first instinct was to get up and run to him, but some instinct she didn’t even know she had warned her to keep low. She didn’t want to make herself a target.

  When she reached the body, she rolled him over. It wasn’t Simon. Oh, dear God. She almost sobbed in relief. Penelope could barely make out his face in the darkness, but she knew he was the man Jane had called Dirk.

  She had blood all over hands where she had touched him, and Penelope scrambled away from him. Still trying to keep to the shadows, she rose shakily to her feet. Which way out of the maze?

  Staring up at the building, she tried to pinpoint her office window. That would at least help her get her bearings.