Never Tempt Danger

by Denise Robbins

  Halfway down the hall a thought struck her. She recalled several times when they had worked late into the night or even just watched television when they would get up to go to bed, Jimmy left her because he forgot to lock something up. Shutting her eyes, she evoked the image of Jimmy dressed in his Oxford shirt, kissing her and saying, “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to lock up.” Then he spun away and walked out, leaving her to watch his cute butt in navy dress slacks. She opened her mind and searched for sounds. Tilting her head up, she recollected the squeak of a door and then…footsteps…down. The basement.

  Gilly walked toward the front of the house. Next to the closet-sized half-bath was another door, a door that led to the basement. She turned the knob and pulled. The squeak that greeted her confirmed her memory and she smiled with satisfaction. Reaching into the darkness, she glided her hand along the wall and flipped the switch. Nothing happened. She flipped the switch again.

  “Shoot!” The light must have burnt out. She hated basements. They reminded her of the movie she had seen when she was a kid, the one where critters lived in the bowels of a house and whenever it was dark they snatched people, took them to the basement, and threw them into the little fireplace. A shiver slid up her spine and shook her shoulders. “Great. Way to scare yourself, Gilly.”

  It was not a childish fear that had her reach behind her back removing her weapon from its holster. It was not. It was preparedness. It was what any good, intelligent agent would do when entering an unknown area. “Yeah,” she said as she held onto the wooden rail and took her first step down. It creaked under her weight.

  “Ha, ha,” she murmured. “I don’t weigh that much,” she complained taking a few more stairs before halting. Had she heard something? She listened. The only thing she heard was her heart beating a rapid pulse. Damn childhood nightmares!

  Ignoring the hairs that stood at attention on her arms and at the nape of her neck, Gilly rushed down the stairs until her feet hit pavement.

  Hand waving in the air in front of her, she felt for the string attached to the overhead light. She felt the cotton brush against the back of her hand then wrapped it around her fingers and tugged. The room lit, blinding her causing Gilly to squint. When her eyes adjusted, she opened them and let out a blood-curdling scream.

  Her finger poised on the trigger, she blinked several times before stepping closer and punching it. Apparently, Jimmy had invested in one of those boxing dummies, the kind that attacks back. Upon closer inspection, she wondered if he hadn’t built the dummy himself.

  “Not bad.” She wondered if it had given him a good workout. “Later,” she told the stoic machine and turned to scan the room.

  Again, a chill quivered through her. The place gave her the creeps, reminding her of the inside of a prison. Everything cement and gray, except for overhead where cobwebs hung among pink insulation between wooden floor beams. She glanced around. There really was not much in the basement. A freezer sat in one corner humming annoyingly loud in the small space. Boxing Boy stood in another corner amongst other workout gear including a dusty weight bench and dumbbells. On the opposite side of the room was the obligatory hot water heater and furnace. Why could builders never put those things somewhere more accessible and less creepy?

  She hesitated then took a step further into the space. That was when she spotted the fuse box behind the stairs. At least they hid that eyesore. She tucked her gun back into its holster. “Okay, not too many places it could be.”

  She started with the boxer. Pushing the obvious power button, she expected it to come to life. When it did not, Gilly was only slightly disappointed. She did not think she would be thrilled to have it talk to her let alone take a swipe at her. She searched it for any hidden compartments and came up empty. Dusting off her pants, she aimed her sights on the freezer thinking maybe Jimmy had done what her grandfather on her mother’s side had done and placed his cash in empty frozen food boxes inside the freezer rather than a bank.

  She pictured him, six feet tall, dark silver hair stuffing wads of cash into the empty lasagna box. “Gilly,” he’d say, “why should I give my money to the government or the banks just so they can make more money and make me pay taxes on my sweat?” Then he would wink at her and place the box to the bottom of the freezer. Afterwards, he would sling an arm over her shoulder and whisper in her ear. “That’s your savings, button, yours and no one else. Remember that.” Gilly smiled remembering the warmth of her grandfather’s arms and the depth of his caring. Sure enough, his stash had paid for her college education. You bet there was a similar ‘rainy day’ stash in the back of her freezer.

  Grinning, she lifted the lid on the white appliance. She peered inside and gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. The lid slammed shut, and she jumped. Heart pounding in her chest, Gilly took steadying breaths then gripped the silver handle of the horizontal freezer. Prepared this time, she closed her eyes and jerked the lid up quick as if it were a band-aid on a wound. “Just get it over with.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open and Gilly forced herself to look. She fought the need to scream and run. Instead, she planted her feet on the floor and gazed at the frozen corpse of Daniel Franks, the lead engineer on the DARPA project. Curled up in the fetal position, he appeared to be sleeping, but she knew better. Black and blue spots marked the left side of his face and she saw some abrasions on his neck and arm. She wanted to touch him to see what had happened to him, besides being turned into a Popsicle, but she did not dare.

  “What happened, Daniel?” Her brows furrowed. “Why were you even here?” As she shut the lid, the answer hit her. He was probably looking for the same thing, looking for Jimmy’s files and code. But…but if that were true, which is the only thing that made sense, then who had killed him and did they have the files? She sucked in air and blew it back out. “No.”

  Jimmy hid the FLASH drive well enough that the only people or person that could locate it had to know him. She swept the room with another look, her gaze stopping at the shadowed stairwell. Excitement bubbled in her veins. She practically leapt across the room and stood in front of the electrical power box. Her fingers itched in anticipation as she reached out, pressed the lever, and opened the gray metal door. Disappointment whooshed out in a long breath. All she saw were black toggle switches and a very neatly printed switch-to-room label.

  “Damn!” She slammed the metal door and it bounced back open. Using two fingers, she pressed the darn lever to shut the thing. Her eyes widened and her heart skipped. Moving to the side, she saw that the junction box was not flush in the wall. There was a gap about a quarter inch in size between the wallboard and the metal plate.

  With her hands placed on both sides of the box, Gilly slipped her fingers into the gap and felt along the rim. When she found nothing, she gave the metal a slight tug. The whir of ball bearings made her grin with giddiness. She stepped back and watched as the electrical switch box slid out. Behind it, sunk into the skeleton of the wall, sat a safe. Warmth filled her as an image of Jimmy drifted into her mind. “You were so damn smart.”

  She leaned into the dark opening and punched in the code she knew would open it up. The same code Jimmy used on his computer. One thing about computer folks, they hated remembering different passwords. As long as it was a strong password not found in the English dictionary, computer experts tended to stick with it. The snick of the lock releasing told her she had been right.

  Grasping the handle, she jerked it up and to the right and the heavy door opened, revealing its contents. Hands shaking, she reached inside, wrapped her fingers around an envelope and YES the FLASH drive. After pulling them out, she shut and re-locked the safe then pushed the breaker box back into place. She removed the FLASH drive taped to the envelope and stuffed it where no one would dare think to look. Tucked into her bra.

  When she glanced down, she noticed the writing on the envelope. It was addressed to her. Jimmy left her a letter. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed the tears back. She did not
want to read it. She couldn’t.

  Her head snapped up. Footsteps! Someone was in the house. Stuffing the envelope into the waistband of her pants, she retrieved her 9-millimeter from its holster, and slunk behind the stairs into the shadows. Back pressed against the cool wall, heart pounding in her ears, she listened, following the heavy footsteps. Whoever was up there had gone to the kitchen and was now in the den. She heard the echo of heels slapping against wood. The door to the basement squeaked and Gilly tried to become invisible, pushing herself harder into the wall.

  The light! Shit, shit, shit! The light was on. Whoever stood at the top of the stairs would see her as soon as he reached the bottom. Definitely he, she thought, by the heavy tread that drifted off again. She blew out a relieved silent breath. Should she douse the light? Maybe kill all the power? The lever was right there. Her gun aimed at the stairs, she wrapped the fingers of her free hand around the cold handle and tugged downward. With a loud screech and a pop, the room went pitch black.

  The footsteps came back and paused. She gritted her teeth against a wave of panic as the intruder took a step down. Then another. And another. Oh, man! Facing the stairs, she waited. Her heart beat against her ribs. When the foot hit the stair at eye level, she snaked a hand through the open kick plate, and jerked hard. With a yelp and thud, he tumbled down the stairs and did not stop until he hit the bottom. “Shit!”

  Gilly rushed out from the shadows, her weapon aimed at the barely visible blob groaning on the floor. She started past him, her intent to get while the getting was good, but somehow her feet became entangled with his. She stumbled, tried to regain her balance, and ended up tumbling backward. Landing directly on her would be attacker. Air whooshed out of her lungs when her back met the hard resistance of his solid chest, her head cracking against his skull.

  “Ow!” Her gun skittered across the floor and pinged against the freezer. She turned to roll off the man and go for her weapon. An arm snaked out and grabbed her thigh. “Let me go!” She lifted her other knee and with as much force as she could muster, kicked backwards.

  “Mother f—!” He let loose and Gilly scampered across the room, feeling blindly along the cement floor until her hand met titanium.

  Picking up her weapon, she pivoted to her ass and scooted back against the side of the freezer, pulling her knees to her chest. “Do not move, asshole!” she panted, her gun grasped between both hands, aimed at the groaning dark mass. Damn him! Why could he not leave her alone?

  “Gilly,” the man gasped out.

  “What?” she snarled.

  “Gilly.”

  She jumped to her feet and hurried to the breaker box. After finding the lever in the dark, she shoved it up, and walked back to tower over the dumb son-of-a-bitch sprawled on the floor, his hands tucked against his crotch.

  TWELVE

  “What the hell are you doing, Danger?”

  “Protecting your ass,” he growled through gritted teeth.

  “Damn it, Luke! I could have killed you.”

  Lucas shoved himself up to a sitting position, wincing as he did. “You almost succeeded, but almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” He regarded her with a raised brow. She stiffened, threw her arms up in impatience. “Would you mind putting your weapon away if you’re going to continue ranting with your hands?”

  Gilly stopped moving, looked at the weapon in her hands then with a shrug holstered it. He blew out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

  “You’re not welcome,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. Yup, she was pissed.

  He held up his hands, palms out. “Mind if I get up, maybe find some ice?” Without waiting for an answer, he maneuvered himself to his knees then got to his feet, biting the inside of his cheek the entire time.

  “Ice?” Her eyes narrowed at him then widened. “Oh.” She had the nerve to giggle at him as she clamped fingers around his bicep. “Come on.”

  “Would you mind slowing down a little?”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled but kept up the same pace. Lucas shook his head. He should have known he would not get any sympathy from her.

  They reached the top of the stairs and she dropped his arm, left him to his own as she wandered off without a word. Before trailing in her wake, he took a deep breath, raked fingers through his hair, and prayed for patience. On an exhale, he moved into the house, following the sounds. He located her in the kitchen, her head in the freezer.

  “Whose house is this?”

  Her head popped out of the freezer. “Jimmy’s.” She elbowed the door shut. In her hands, she held a plastic baggie of ice, which she zipped shut and tossed on the counter in front of him.

  “Thanks.” He took the ice, eased himself onto a bar stool, and set the cold bag on his lap, gritting his teeth. Feeling himself grow numb in an area that really should never be numb, he glanced up and saw a very beautiful, disheveled redhead glaring at him with animosity through sea green eyes.

  “Mind telling me how you found me?” Her sharp voice grated along his spine, caused him to straighten in defense.

  “You stole my car, remember?” He stabbed a finger in the air in her direction. “A car you know I worked damn hard to restore.” He dropped his hand to the counter.

  “And that answers my question how?”

  “I protect what’s mine.”

  Copper-colored eyebrows shot skyward on her forehead then dropped. Placing both palms on the black granite in front of his, she leaned forward, her nose within inches of his. “In other words, there’s a tracking device on the car.”

  He lifted one shoulder and let it drop. Gilly shoved away and turned her back on him. He hated that! “Mind telling me why we’re sitting here?”

  “You’re sitting,” she quipped without looking at him. “I’m standing.”

  He drew out her name in a low, warning tone. “Gilly.” She turned and her gaze met his, hard and unwavering. “Tell me why we’re here. Tell me why you pulled a disappearing act.”

  Her chin dropped to her chest. “He’s dead.”

  The murmured response cut him. The fact that she obviously cared for the guy sliced at his heart. Shoving his own emotions aside, he removed the ice pack and slid to his feet. Before she could retreat, he rounded the bar, and clapped a hand on her arm. “I know.” He swallowed a lump of regret. “I’m sorry.” Sorry for his loss. Sorry for letting her get away to find someone else.

  She bobbed her head up and down. With two fingers, he lifted her chin until her gaze met his. “I am sorry.” He pulled her into his arms, wrapped her against him. She stiffened then relaxed and gave into the comfort he offered. He stroked her silky hair with his large hand. “Why did you come here?”

  Gilly pushed at his chest and moved away from him, leaving behind a cold ache where she had touched him. “I had to find the files.”

  Files? His brows knit in confusion. “What files?”

  “The work we did on the DARPA contract is confidential. Jimmy kept the files on a FLASH drive. I had to locate it before someone else did, before they ended up in the wrong hands.”

  She gasped and covered her mouth. “What?”

  Her hand slipped away. “D…D…Daniel is downstairs.”

  “Gilly, I didn’t see anyone else down there.”

  She shook her head in a quick jerky motion. “The freezer.” She shoved past him. Lucas halted her momentum, pulling her up short around the waist, and turned her to face him. “Daniel is dead, shoved into the freezer in the basement.”

  His eyes went wide. Then he moved her aside and headed toward the basement door with her right on his heels. “Who is Daniel?” he asked as he rounded the corner.

  “One of the engineers on the project.”

  He tromped down the wooden stairs with Gilly following right behind. When he reached the freezer, he released the latch and the lid lifted open. Sure enough, curled up in the fetal position was a man. Not that it was necessary, but Lucas put two fingers against the man’s throat
and waited for a pulse he knew would not come. Dead.

  Lucas didn’t want to contaminate any possible evidence, but since he and Gilly had both probably compromised the crime scene already, he didn’t think it would matter much if he moved the body to determine cause of death. He grasped the shirt collar on the cold dead body and shifted his position. The cause of Daniel’s demise obvious, Gilly gasped from over his shoulder. The man had a bullet hole in his chest.

  “Who would shoot Daniel? He was such a nice man, a little plain maybe, but nice.”

  “Why the hell was he here?” He asked shutting the freezer. “Did you see any blood down here?”

  Gilly shook her head.

  “How about upstairs?”

  “I didn’t notice any, but I didn’t go into every room.”

  “Well, let’s check them out now.”

  He took the steps two at a time and at the top waited for her to catch up with him. Once she had cleared the stairwell, he shut the door behind her and headed back into the main part of the house.

  “I don’t—”

  A loud explosion rocked the house cutting off her words. Glass shattered and splintered through the air. Lucas spun, leapt at Gilly, and tackled her to the ground, shielding her with his body. “Are you okay?” She didn’t speak. “Gilly, Gilly, answer me. Are you all right?”

  Brownish-red lashes fluttered. “I—can’t—breathe.”

  He rolled off her, grabbed her wrist, and keeping low dragged her into the bowels of the house away from glass. Squatting, his back against the wall, he released the weapon from its holster. He stood, aimed his weapon out ahead of him, and swept the area. “Can you move?”

  “Yes.” Gilly got to her feet and took up post behind him, mirroring his movements. “Do you see anything, anyone?” she whispered.