The Naked Truth

by Maggie Aldrich

  We waited patiently as my dad and I communicated back and forth. The passage was becoming warm from our excitement, and I started to sweat. I feared Darcy’s claustrophobia would become worse the closer we were to breaking out. Minutes passed with no sound. Were they scouring the room for the red button? Was their opening to the passage different than it had been in the media room? Or had Marco and Diego come back for them?

  Darcy slid down to the floor and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her lips moved as if in prayer, and she looked to be in a meditative state. Sweat trickled down my chest and I lifted my hair from my shoulders in an attempt to cool off. I glanced up and down the passage, wondering if we should try another room instead. Surely one of the doors opened from this side. What kind of moron builds a passageway you can’t get out of? There had to be an exit somewhere. I felt like we were running out of time. I reached up to tap out another message to my dad, hoping they were still in there, and I wasn’t about to give us away to the bad guys. Just as I began to tap, the door slowly swung open. I nearly collapsed in relief.

  ●CHAPTER 26●

  DARCY SPRANG UP AND RAN INTO THE ROOM, straight into my dad’s arms. Though we’d only been in that cramped, musty passageway for minutes, it had felt like much longer. Her relief was palpable, and she sobbed in gratitude. Fritz had a big smile on his face. I looked over to see my sweet husband still passed out on the pool table. He’d slept through it all.

  Darcy stifled her sobs and stepped back from my dad, allowing him to get a good look at me. I couldn’t move and remained rooted to my spot. We hadn’t seen each other in person for nearly two years. In spite of the fact that he may have been a drug runner and a double agent, (I still couldn’t reconcile that in my brain.), he was still my dad, and my heart ached.

  I looked him over and couldn’t believe how much he’d changed. Thinner than I remembered, his hair had grayed considerably and now curled over the tips of his ears. Wrinkles that had been evident before were now much more pronounced. The past two years had aged his face at least ten. I wondered if he thought the same of me.

  He opened his arms to me and beckoned me to him, a questioning look in his eyes. My brain hesitated, but my heart won out and, finally able to move, I rushed to him. He wrapped me in his arms and held me close.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I choked out repeatedly. We gently rocked back and forth and I took in the scent of him. Everything felt so surreal. I felt like I was hugging a ghost. My heart was filled with joy at his presence, but my head knew there were still so many unknowns. Was he a dirty agent? Was he a drug runner? Had his actions gotten my mom killed? For now, however, I could only hold him and give thanks.

  Finally, I stood back and held him at arms’ length. “Why did you let me believe you were dead, Dad? How could you do that? What happened?” I stammered.

  “Kiddo, I can explain everything, I promise.” His eyes searched mine for forgiveness, but it wasn’t something I was ready to give.

  Fritz cautiously stepped in and put his hand on my arm, squeezing it gently. “Listen, I hate to break this up, but we’ve got to get out of here.” I nodded and wiped my tears. After all, I’d found my dad, but we were still in danger. There was no time to catch up and get answers. The longer we stayed in here, the more likely we’d get caught, and then all hell would break loose. “We’ll have time for a family reunion later,” he said softly. “And we’ll make sure you get some answers, okay?” He slapped my dad on the back a little forcefully.

  “Okay, you’re right.” I sniffed and let go of my dad. “Let’s get to it.”

  I struggled to catch my breath and looked around the room for the first time. We were in some kind of huge game room, complete with a pool table, air hockey, darts, foosball, and even a basketball hoop. Screens dotted the walls. A bar area was tucked into a corner, fully stocked. I was surprised Fritz hadn’t set up shop and whipped up a batch of margaritas yet. I sure could have used one or three. A lone couch was tucked in the back of the room in a cozy area with two recliners and a coffee table. Of course, my husband had opted to snooze on the pool table instead.

  I walked over to poor Michael and rubbed his arm. He opened one eye and, upon seeing me, struggled to sit up.

  “He’s alive!” Fritz whispered, feigning fear. His face became more serious and he furrowed his brow. “You sober yet, man? You had me a little worried. Good grief, I’d hate to see you on the harder stuff.”

  Michael looked confused and put his head in his hands. He moaned out loud. “My head is killing me.” Looking up at Fritz, his eyes narrowed. “Did you drug me, Fritz?” His face contorted in confusion as he began to stand, and Fritz took a step back.

  “Uh,” Fritz looked around for help, “let me just mention that your father-in-law tried to kill you first. I’m just saying…”

  Michael again lowered his head and, upon trying to stand, stumbled to the side. My dad and I both reached out and caught him before he fell over. In doing so, my shirt hiked up and Fritz caught a glimpse of the Ruger tucked into my waistband.

  “Why don’t I hold that,” he said as we struggled to keep Michael standing. He reached over and took the gun, flipping it back and forth casually in his hands. “Thank God we’ve got a real weapon now.”

  “Geez, Fritz, be careful with that thing!” I cautioned as I looked back at him. How could anyone be so comfortable with a firearm?

  “Emily, come on, I know what I’m doing,” he said disdainfully.

  Frankly, I was glad to have the gun out of my possession. I’d much rather hold onto my struggling husband than have to deal with that hunk of metal in my pants. How do cops walk around with those things attached to their person for an entire shift? I had been constantly worrying I was going to shoot off part of my ass.

  “Why don’t you give me that,” my dad said. He let go of Michael and gestured toward Fritz with his hand held out.

  “Whoa,” Darcy said, walking up to him. “For all we know, you’re a dirty, drug-running double agent and definitely the reason we’re all in this mess. So, thanks, but no. We’ll be keeping that, George.” She directed a pointed look at Fritz. My dad nodded and dropped his hands in surrender. “You should help out with Michael, anyway.”

  Fritz suddenly doubled over in pain, nearly dropping the gun. “Damn. Sciatica. Killing me,” he squeaked out. Darcy gingerly took the gun from him, leaving Fritz to hobble around the room, grabbing at his leg and wincing. My dad and I steadied Michael, who was still groggy and unable to support his own weight. Fritz finally caught his breath and exhaled in relief.

  “Whoo! Man. That hurt.” He looked around the room and his gaze stopped on a small baggie. “Uh, you guys mind if I—”

  “Don’t you even think about it,” I growled. Michael tried to step out of our grasp and nearly fell over. Looking up at me, he sighed. “God, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m pathetic. And I feel fuuuunny.” Then he let out a small giggle and grinned slightly. I knew it killed him to be helpless like that. But seriously, it was kind of cute.

  “Absolutely none of this is your fault,” I told him. “If anyone’s sorry, it’s me.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. His face was rough, the five o’clock shadow now about ten hours old. If possible, he was even more ruggedly handsome than normal, but for the glazed look in his eyes.

  “No,” my dad interrupted. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.” He paused and looked over to the window, as if weighing options. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “Now that Michael’s mobile again, and we’re all here, I’ve come up with a plan.” We all stood, attentively listening. “We’re going to head out that window.” Darcy’s jaw dropped. “We’re going to have to work fast. Head to the back of the house and shimmy down the drainpipe to the portico. I think we can jump from there.” Fritz looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon and rubbed his beard.

  “Yeah, well, uh, see, this body doesn’t do a lot of shimmying and jumping off of buildings, George…” He patted his big, round
belly and jerked his thumb behind him. “I vote secret passage.”

  My dad walked over to the window and slowly forced it open. Cold air rushed in, and flakes of snow swirled above us. It was pitch dark outside. He expected us to go out in this? Hopefully, he knew where the cars were being held so we could easily get to safety. We’d be dead within an hour out in the elements otherwise. Of course, we might be dead within the hour if we stayed in here too.

  “The secret passageway is just where they’ll look, don’t you get it?” he said firmly. “We have to exit this house, and we have to do it now.”

  My ears perked up. He was saying “we”. Had he changed his mind? Was he going to go with us after all? Could he give up his vendetta against Izzy, if only temporarily, in order to get us to safety? Or was he simply going to lead us all out onto the roof in freezing temps and shut the window behind us, forcing us to leave without him?

  Fritz and Darcy walked over and looked out. “I don’t know,” Fritz said with a frown. “This makes me—”

  All of a sudden, Michael interrupted, his head shooting up. “Someone’s coming! Quick! Go! Go!” I heard the sound of footsteps echoing from far down the hall, the heavy tread quickly getting louder and louder. Fritz grabbed Darcy, and with amazing agility for a man his size, yanked her over the windowsill out onto the roof. Apparently, the roof escape option wasn’t looking so bad to him now. I heard Darcy slip and cry out as she tried to maintain her balance.

  “Emily!” Fritz hissed. “Now!” He motioned at me to hurry up. I pulled at Michael while he tried to push me in front of him toward the window.

  “Go, Emily. Get out, now!” Michael pleaded. “All of you, go!”

  “I’m not leaving you!” I cried. My dad, Fritz, and I pulled at him and he struggled to take a step, yanking us all sideways. His instability was too much for us to cross the distance and get him out the window in the split second that we had.

  I shot my gaze up and jerked my head at Fritz. “Go! Just go! Get help!” He shook his head no insistently and instead grabbed my dad, throwing him toward the window.

  “You go. I wouldn’t last thirty seconds out there!” Fritz had a point. My dad looked back at me frantically and I nodded in agreement. The footsteps were getting closer and closer. We had no time for indecision.

  “I’ll come back for you, I promise.” My dad took one last look at me and jumped out the window. I could hear cursing and slipping as he and Darcy struggled to maintain traction on the icy rooftop.

  Fritz slammed the window shut and quickly wiped the snow off the sill.

  “Emily, get down. Get down!” he hissed.

  I ducked under the pool table and rolled to the center, praying I’d gotten completely out of view. I held my breath and stayed completely still as the door flung open.

  ●CHAPTER 27●

  “WHAT’S GOING ON IN HERE? It sounds like a herd of elephants walking around.” Diego barked. I stared up at the bottom of the pool table, imagining myself invisible. Surely, he felt the coldness of the room. He’d know we had the window open. He’d start looking around and he’d find me! Moving my head just slightly, I saw that I could view him through a small crack by the upper corner of the table’s leg. He was still bundled up, as if he’d been outside. Thank God. He might not notice that it was frigid in here. I silently prayed that he couldn’t see me. I felt as if I were playing a life-or-death game of hide and seek.

  “Sorry, man. Uh, we were just playing a game of pool to pass the time. It’s all gooood.” Michael sang out. He sounded drunk. “Guess we got a little rowdy.” I looked over at the pool cues neatly lined in their holder. Man, I thought, I hope Diego doesn’t pay attention to detail. “This guy here thought he could beat me in a game of golf pool.” Michael laughed and stood up shakily, nodding at Fritz. “Wrong! So, now we’re going to try some darts, right, old man?” He was trying to stay in between me and Diego so I wouldn’t be seen. Plus, I’m pretty sure he was still seeing double and couldn’t move much further.

  “You wanna play some pool, gringo? Huh? I beat you at pool. I kick your ass at pool,” Diego sneered. “Gimme a stick.” Shit. “Come on, cabrón, you think you can play?”

  Diego walked up to Michael and, because of the height difference, chest butted him in the belly. I could see the muscles in Michael’s back tense up. His fingers spread and began to twitch, as if waiting to attack. I knew Michael could take him out in a heartbeat, but for the semiautomatic weapon in Diego’s hands, and the fact that he wasn’t quite on top of his game at the present. Keep calm, babe. Please don’t let him provoke you.

  “You think you can—”

  Suddenly, a voice called to Diego from down the hall, startling him. He grimaced and stepped back. “Sí! Un minuto, por favor,” he shouted loudly over his shoulder. Turning to look back at Michael and Fritz, he hefted his gun and hissed, “El jefe está aquí.” An evil grin spread across his face. “The fun is just beginning, mis amigos.” He turned on his heel and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

  The room instantly became silent, and I swore I could hear footsteps scurrying on the rooftop outside. Had my dad and Darcy made it to safety? Or would they be caught by el jefe’s henchmen just outside?

  I rolled out from under the pool table and struggled to sit up. Fritz leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, with a shell-shocked look on his face. Michael rested his hands on his knees and took a deep breath before reaching down to help me stand. And my dad’s snow-covered face stared at me from outside the window. Wait, what the?

  I dashed to the window and hefted it open. “Dad, what’s going on? You’re supposed to be getting help!”

  “Darcy’s getting help. Don’t worry. I helped her down to the back portico and told her where the vehicles are most likely stashed.”

  “Most likely? It’s freezing outside, Dad. What if she can’t find them? What if el jefe finds her first?”

  He struggled a bit as he hefted himself inside the room. His breathing was labored and his skin looked red and ruddy, like a farmer who’d been hard at work doing chores in the snow.

  “Darcy’s a big girl, Emily. Don’t worry.” Easy for him to say. He didn’t know that Jimmy Choo-wearing woman from Adam. He heaved big gulps of breath as he struggled to catch his own. “She’s dressed warm, and she’ll figure it out. She’s got to. I’ve got to get the rest of us out of here.”

  “But she’s all alone,” I said, wondering about Darcy’s survival skills and not feeling too good about them. “What if someone finds her out there? How’s she going to handle that? She’s got no weapon.”

  He sighed heavily, rubbing his face with his hand. “Well, actually, she does.” He paused and glanced at all of us, a look of chagrin on his face. “Seems we’re the ones without a weapon now. Darcy’s still got the gun.”

  ●CHAPTER 28●

  OUR ONLY WEAPON WAS NOW BEING TOTED around by a brown-haired Barbie with a bright pink manicure outside in a blizzard at night. I sure hoped my secret agent dad had some badass self-defense skills to get us out of this mess if we got caught escaping. I could’ve always utilized my own, such as they were. It was Fritz and Michael in his current state that I was most worried about. How on earth would we get my 210-pound husband out the window, across a rooftop, and down a portico when he could barely stand on his own two feet without attracting attention? And with Fritz and his sciatica? This was a recipe for disaster.

  The three of us braced Michael and made our way slowly to the window. Fritz kept eyeing the bag of pot sitting out.

  “It will give me fortitude,” he muttered as he strained to hold up Michael. I could tell he was longing for a hit and hissed at him, “Don’t you dare!”

  I had to elbow Michael in the ribs and shush him at one point when he started trying to get us all to do the Cotton Eyed Joe. I couldn’t wait to get my take-charge, level-headed husband back.

  We just reached the window when we again heard footsteps coming from down the hall. We all
paused and strained to hear the heavy tread getting closer.

  “I’m going out!” my dad commanded. “We’ve got to hurry! I’ll pull his top half while you two get his legs.” He hastily threw up the sash and climbed out on the rooftop. Snow again swirled in from above, flakes landing on my lashes. My dad heaved and Fritz and I each grabbed a leg and lifted. Michael attempted to brace himself with his arms to lend a hand. But then suddenly, Fritz dropped Michael’s leg and doubled over in pain.

  “Dammit!” he hissed. He fell down to one knee, grabbing at his back as the door swung open. Diego hoisted his gun up, aiming the barrel straight at us.

  “¡El Diablo Blanco!” he whispered in surprise as he saw my dad. A look of reverence crossed his face but was quickly replaced by anger. He looked around, stunned to see both my dad and me there with Fritz and Michael. But if he noticed Darcy was missing, he didn’t immediately let on. “¡Cierra la ventana! ¡Ahora!” He impatiently motioned my dad inside with the gun.

  My dad looked around in a panic. He was already outside, the darkness nearly enveloping him. He could easily just turn and disappear. I silently willed him to do so. But then what would become of us? Did they know the connection between all of us? Had they figured out we weren’t just curious passersby that got lost driving around? The thought made my head hurt.

  “I knew you bitches wouldn’t stay put,” Diego said as he looked at me. God, I thought, I hope Darcy is far, far away. His gaze swung back to my dad. “Don’t even think about it, El Diablo,” he sneered. El jefe will want to see you.” With a menacing look in his eyes, he jerked the gun barrel toward me and walked closer. I could smell tequila on him from five feet away, and he had beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “I’ll put a bullet right through her head if you take another step.” This guy was bloodthirsty and more than a little unbalanced. I didn’t doubt him for a minute.