Pandora's Box

by K. C. Blake

  Tyler held his hands out, flashing his palms at her in surrender. “Take it easy. What’s wrong, Madison?”

  Her upper lip curled in a fierce sneer, baring her teeth. She growled at him. She actually growled at him. It might have been sexy if it wasn’t so freaky.

  He blinked at her in stunned silence.

  Madison leaped high in the air and performed a perfect flying kick. Her sneaker clad foot hit him squarely in the chest, knocking him backwards. He fell in to the coffee table behind him. The wood collapsed under his weight and the glass shattered beneath him.

  Dazed, he tried to get his mental bearings. Madison’s movements flowed. Her eyes remained fixed, staring through him rather than at him.

  She returned to the fireplace and grabbed the black iron poker. The fingers of both her hands curled around the end. She walked over to him, her expression unmoved. He watched in disbelief as she lifted the poker high, aiming for his head. No hesitation in her. She swung it down hard and fast.

  Tyler rolled to the left.

  The poker hit the ground next to his face. He turned his head, shocked by how close it had come. But she wasn’t done yet. With what seemed like an annoyed grunt, she lifted it high again. She tried a second time to strike him in the head with the sharp end.

  He rolled to the right.

  It missed—barely.

  Tyler had had enough. He brought his feet up in a sharp kick, hitting her in the stomach with just enough force to send her reeling. She fell backwards. She didn’t make a sound. Add that to the growing list of disturbing behavior. There wasn’t a startled shriek or even a cry of pain when she hit the hard wood floor.

  Tyler moved fast. He climbed up her body, holding her down and grabbed the iron poker, one hand on each end.

  Her hands slid to the middle as she fought to retain possession of the weapon. Teeth bared, she fought like an out of control animal. They both struggled for the poker. Madison seemed to have superhuman strength. She pushed against him, lifting his hundred and eighty pounds in a reverse push-up.

  If he didn’t do something quick, she would win this one.

  He didn’t want to hurt her, but what choice did he have? He released the poker, grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her a couple inches off the floor. Reluctantly he slammed her down. Her head struck the bare floor with a sickening thud.

  The fight left her. Her eyes went up, out of sight, and the lids nearly closed over the whites. She let go of the poker and Tyler grabbed it, sliding it across the floor. It hit the opposite wall. Her eyelashes fluttered like hummingbird wings.

  “Madison?” He caressed her cheek and prayed she was okay.

  Her eyes drifted open. She blinked up at him, appearing confused. She tried to roll to her side, but Tyler held her still, afraid she might be seriously injured.

  “Don’t move until I have time to check you out,” he said. “I’ll get you some ice.”

  ******

  While Tyler was in the kitchen, banging what sounded like an old-fashioned metal ice tray against the counter, Madison assessed her situation. Her head throbbed painfully. She rubbed the back of her skull beneath the hair and tried to concentrate without causing her head to explode. The last thing she remembered was warming by the fire. Tyler had gone out for some more wood. How had she gotten from there to the floor with Tyler on top of her?

  And what had caused that horrible expression on his face? A look of fear, wary confusion, and concern all rolled into one.

  Of course she’d experienced the same disoriented feeling once before. She remembered waking in the bar with the waiter standing over her. He’d insisted she’d been there for over an hour. If it was true, if she’d blanked out not once but twice, it probably meant Grainger had been telling the truth. Her chip was old. It had deteriorated, causing violent outbursts.

  She was part of the Pandora’s Box experiment.

  Had her father known?

  If so, why hadn’t he told her?

  Tyler returned with ice rolled in a towel. He sat behind her and carefully helped her to sit up. His fingers were gentle as he probed the site of the injury. It still hurt like hell. She winced and bit her lip to keep from moaning as he placed the ice against the back of her skull. It felt nice and cool on the nape of her neck.

  “I think you’ll live,” he said.

  “What happened?” She asked the question even though she didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “That’s what I want to know. When I returned with the wood, you attacked me.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, trying to make light of it. “Maybe you fell asleep while I was gone. Have you had a problem with sleepwalking before?”

  She shook her head and winced. Bad move. She sucked in a sharp breath. Her hands went to her aching head, holding it between them as if she could stop it from coming apart by sheer will.

  “Easy there,” Tyler said.

  He tenderly rubbed her temples and the sides of her skull. His fingers slid beneath her hair. The gentle friction felt amazing against her tender scalp. She rested her head against his chest. Her mind shut down. Letting someone else take care of her didn’t come naturally for her, but she was tired of fighting on her own. Besides, Tyler had magical fingers. The pain receded slowly beneath his skillful hands.

  “Tell me about your mother,” he said.

  She froze.

  He explained, “I saw the newspaper clippings on her death. Did you know about the suicide?” His voice remained low, quiet, as if he thought talking to loud might send her over the edge. “I’m not sure it has anything to do with what happened to your father. I think you should probably fill me in, just in case.”

  She stiffened. He wanted to know about her mother, the last thing she wanted to talk about.

  “Clippings? My father kept them?” She shrugged. “I guess I must have missed them in my search. Or maybe I didn’t want to see them.”

  Tyler went to the desk and retrieved the folder. He dumped it into her lap. Instead of returning to his position behind her, hands massaging her scalp, he went to the window and stared into the night, leaving her to search the file alone. She flipped the cover open and gasped.

  Her mother’s face stared up at her, surrounded by the unsettling truth. She’d forgotten how young her mother had been at the time of her death.

  “I was six,” she said. Her voice sounded far away to her own ears, an alien voice totally detached from both past and present. “I don’t remember very much about that day, and my father refused to talk about it even after I grew up and started asking questions. He loved her so much. Her death nearly destroyed him.”

  “Is your father the one who found her?”

  It was a reasonable question and probably what he thought of as the worst case scenario.

  “Actually, I was the first one with the body.”

  “You found her?” Tyler’s hands tightened at his side as if the idea was too terrible for him to contemplate.

  “Not exactly.” Madison hadn’t shared this story with anyone before. Part of her wanted Tyler to know, but the other part of her screamed in agony at the mere thought of confessing the truth with her mouth and hearing it with her ears. “When my mother decided to kill herself, she locked me in the bedroom with her. I guess I should be grateful she didn’t decide to take me with her.”

  He cursed under his breath, but the words barely registered in her mind.

  She continued, “My mother sliced her wrists wide open with a butcher knife and she bled to death on her pretty pink roses bedspread. I remember the flowers turning red.” Suddenly Madison was in the room again, looking down at her mother’s bleeding arms. “I don’t know how long I was in the room with her…her body. Hours perhaps. I just remember watching her mumbling and rocking herself on the bed while holding a doll until it was finished.”

  Madison drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around them as she continued to talk. Her eyes focused, unseeing, at the far wall.

  Tyler closed the distance
between them, but he didn’t speak or try to touch her. He simply stood nearby and waited for her to finish.

  “Like I told you, I don’t remember very much.”

  Unable to sit still any longer, Madison struggled to her feet. She rubbed the back of her aching skull and looked around the cabin. Telling her story was easier here because this had been her father’s favorite place. She felt strangely safe.

  “Do you know why your mother took her own life?”

  “No clue.” She shrugged her shoulders. Big mistake. Sharp pain stabbed her between the shoulder blades. She winced, closing her eyes for a moment. She caught a flash of her mother lying in a pool of blood, eyes open and staring. “My memories are in bits and pieces like fragments of a puzzle that simply don’t fit. I remember her laughing, spinning around in a pretty dress, soft music, raised voices, and a monster.”

  “A monster?” Tyler raised an eyebrow at her.

  She made an I-told-you-so face. “What do you expect? I was six then, so my memories were corrupted by time. The things I think I remember from that night could have happened at another time or maybe they didn’t happen at all. I might have seen a good movie that made a deep impression on me, or the monster could be a symbol for something else.”

  He nodded, scratching his five o’clock shadow covered chin. “Have you considered hypnosis?”

  She had. But why bother? Her mother had killed herself years ago and knowing why she’d done it wouldn’t bring her back.

  She stood and stretched with a deliberate yawn. “Look, it’s late and I’m dead on my feet. Let’s get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He didn’t say a word, but his eyes remained on her as she climbed the stairs until she vanished from view. She went straight to her old bedroom, unable to face a night in her father’s bed. She fell on the bed, fully-clothed, and hugged a pillow to her chest. A tear slid down her face.

  After all these years she still missed her mother.

  ******

  As soon as Madison went upstairs, Tyler was on his cell phone. He sat on an uncomfortable wooden chair and punched in Brett’s number. Earlier he’d asked Brett to dig up everything he could on Boracci and Grainger.

  Odd, Tyler thought, his brow wrinkling. His Navy buddy took his cell phone with him everywhere he went, including the bathroom, so why wasn’t he answering?

  Because he’s probably taking a shower or something, you paranoid ass.

  Tyler set his cell on the coffee table and headed for the hearth. The flames were barely flickering now, and the room was growing cold. Although there was an available room upstairs, he decided to sleep on the couch. He wanted to be near the door in case someone from Grainger’s camp came for them.

  A sound from behind caught his attention. He smiled. So Madison had changed her mind about going to bed. Good. He hadn’t liked the idea of her going to bed sad. Maybe he could cheer her up, tell her some stories about his days in the Navy. Tyler hunched in front of the hearth and moved the logs around with the poker to get the fire going again. He tossed a few more sticks into it.

  The flames leaped higher.

  ******

  First thing in the morning, Madison went for a run. The car was gone, so she assumed Tyler had gone to town for supplies. She hoped he would bring back coffee, strong coffee and something to eat. She’d be starving after the workout.

  Madison stopped cold, breathing hard from what must have been a five-mile run. She bent over, hands on knees. Her lungs ached, yet she felt more alive than she had in days. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and her mind enjoyed the peaceful nature of her surroundings.

  It was cold in the hills overlooking Reno, Nevada, but Madison had her inner rage to keep her warm. Perspiration mixed with the cold air, a dangerous combination. She’d need to get out of these damp clothes, take a warm shower, and change into something from earlier days when she’d come to the cabin for fun. It was time to head back.

  She heard an animal rustling in the underbrush. The chilly wind played with falling leaves, turning them in the air and sweeping them upwards only to let them fall again. It was almost as if she was the last person on earth. She righted her body and pulled in a deep breath. She should run more often. Her problems seemed to melt away once she’d hit the second mile.

  However, her troubles had a way of finding her. The fact that she didn’t have a gun on her hit her like a two-ton boulder. She’d spent a great deal of time in these parts alone, never had a problem, but instinct told her this time would be different. She wasn’t alone anymore.

  The woods around her were too quiet. Not even the soothing sound of a bird chirping. Madison stiffened. She strained her ears, turning her head slightly, but she didn’t hear anything. At least not until—

  A twig snapped behind her.

  Madison spun around, hands raised to defend herself. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, took in the unexpected sight. After rolling her eyes, she lowered her arms. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. He stood still, a shadowy silhouette with the descending sun behind him. She didn’t know if she wanted to hug him or hit him for scaring the life out of her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  DeMarco grinned. “I couldn’t resist. It’s not every day that Madison Grey needs help. Besides, I had to give you this.” He pulled a square piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “Boracci’s address. I have the videos you asked for in my rental car, every major speech the president gave during time in the White House. At least every one I could get my hands on. Mind if I stay and watch them with you?”

  She thought about Tyler’s impending reaction to DeMarco’s sudden presence and cringed inwardly.

  “Maybe it would be better if you went to a motel, Marc. The cabin holds a lot of history for us. Considering the way you’ve been acting lately, I don’t think we should push it.”

  DeMarco’s face tightened. He began to pace back and forth between two tall trees. Some kind of inner turmoil was playing across his features. He opened his mouth a few times, yet hesitated to speak.

  Madison was anxious to see the videotapes. She didn’t have time to hold DeMarco’s hand and stroke his fragile ego.

  “Stay if you want,” she said.

  She turned to go.

  He grabbed her arm.

  “Not so fast,” he said. “When we broke up, I thought it was for the best. But lately I’ve been missing you more and more. I honestly didn’t realize how much I loved you until recently. I miss the closeness we had. Can you promise me one thing? After your name is cleared, will you give us another shot?”

  He had to be kidding.

  She trusted him even less now.

  “Why are you really here, Marc? Did someone send you to spy on me? Are you working with them?”

  “Everybody, with the exception of me, believes you and your father were working together to bring down the president.” At her shocked look, he said, “The president asked me to find evidence of your loyalty to him. Why are you surprised by that? No one really trusts anyone in Washington—and with good reason. You should know I had to tell them about your father’s safe deposit box. They ordered me to search your apartment.”

  Madison felt the blood drain from her face.

  “You searched my apartment?” Hands on hips. “When?”

  “I had just finished when you got home the last time I saw you.”

  The night he had told her to leave. The night she had thought he was going to kill her and she’d grabbed the gun in the utensil drawer. She had felt weighed down by guilt after he’d left. If she’d known he’d searched her apartment, she might have been tempted to shoot him.

  She needed to sit down. Not caring anymore if he followed her back to the cabin or not, she started to walk. Her legs felt like rubber. She clenched her hands into tight fists and forced her legs to move.

  “I didn’t find anything,” he called out.

  “Disappointed?” Over her shoulder she sai
d, “Were you trying to clear me or convict me?”

  She kept moving, not waiting for an answer. He lied to her so easily these days. She wasn’t sure she’d believe a word he said.

  ******

  A few minutes later Madison pushed the cabin door open. Tyler still hadn’t returned and she was glad. Maybe she could get rid of DeMarco before he got back. It was bad enough she’d called her former lover. Tyler would hit the roof if he walked in and found them together.

  DeMarco entered a couple of minutes later with a big box in his arms. He set it down just inside the door and opened the flaps. It was filled to the top with videotapes.

  “Well, here they are. I didn’t have time to sort them out, so they aren’t in any particular order.”

  “May I ask where you got them?”

  “A female acquaintance of mine has a thing for the man in the oval office. She records every speech he makes. Of course she only has the televised ones. I might be able to get my hands on some that weren’t televised if you really need them.”

  Madison shrugged. She picked up a tape and looked at the date printed on the box. She wasn’t sure what she was even looking for. Hopefully she would know it when she saw it.

  “Where’s your new buddy?” DeMarco asked.

  “Leave it alone,” she warned.

  DeMarco threw his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to speak.” He sighed. “Maddie, you have to believe I care about you and wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I’ve been trying like hell to clear you.”

  “I don’t want to hear it right now.” She held a hand up. “Please stop.”

  “We have to talk about this!”

  “Not now! I’m not going to fight with you. If that’s what you’re looking for, then you should leave.”

  DeMarco sat on the couch, looking defeated. “I don’t want to fight either.”

  “Then what do you want, Marc?” She left the tapes in the box. Placing herself between him and the fireplace, hands on hips, she pinned him with a hard gaze. “Tell me. You have my undivided attention. Spit it out. What the hell do you want from me?”