Morgan's Wife

by Lindsay McKenna

  As Jim eased himself to the ground, Pepper could see the pain in every line of his face. Her gaze automatically went to his arm, covered by the torn sleeve of his utilities. Had the wound opened? If it had, the bleeding could begin again, and the scent of blood might alert one of the dogs. As she worried, Jim gave her the hand signal to scale the fence.

  Pepper found the iron barrier fairly easy to climb, so she concentrated on remaining noiseless. Jim’s hands wrapped firmly around her waist as she slid down on his side of the fence. But as soon as her feet touched the ground, he eased his hands away, and she felt bereft. Did he realize just how much she needed his touch? Pepper glanced up at his shadowed face and found care and anxiety in his eyes. For her? She doubted it, knowing how he felt about Laura, who could soon be within reach.

  Pepper and Jim remained close together as they headed into the heavy jungle cover, making their way along the quarter-mile route to the plantation. Luckily, although street lamps lined the white gravel road leading to the house, few lights were placed elsewhere. Jim thought Garcia’s arrogance might have given him an exaggerated sense of safety, so that he hadn’t lighted up his house. Lucky for them.

  Jim’s every sense was excruciatingly heightened as he led Pepper through the maze of brush and trees toward the house. The breeze began again, rattling the hundreds of swaying palms growing among the rubber trees. He tensed as he spotted a guard moving slowly past the front of the plantation. Feeling Pepper’s light touch on his shoulder, he glanced to his left and saw her glistening features and the fear in her eyes. He understood that fear. They had exactly half an hour to slip inside that house, locate Laura and get her out.

  So many questions reeled through Jim’s mind. What if Garcia had forced Laura to sleep with him? Then the drug lord would have to be disabled. A blinding, hot anger rose in Jim, and he knew without a doubt he could happily take out the bastard with a shot to the head, if he’d touched Laura.

  A sharp, cracking sound emanated from the right. Jim froze, his hand automatically going to his Beretta. The wind had risen, gusting sharply, and the smell of rain surrounded them. He watched as the guard halted, turned and looked in their direction. A limb of a rubber tree fell with a thunk no more than a hundred feet from their position. Jim’s heart rate skyrocketed, but he didn’t move a muscle. The guard started toward them.

  Pepper’s eyes rounded as she saw the guard move. Oh, no! Luckily, the wind was still in their favor, so the dog with him wouldn’t scent them. A second strong gust of wind made another branch crack and give way—on the other side of the house. The guard stopped and looked in that direction. With a shrug, he pulled his guard dog back and continued his normal path around the house.

  Pepper closed her eyes, pressing her hand against her heart, which felt like a drum threatening to beat right out of her chest. She felt Jim relax and glanced at him. He was wiping sweat from his upper lip, his eyes remaining narrowed and watchful. She felt suddenly shaky and realized it was the aftermath of an adrenaline surge. Locking her knees, she stood very still, concentrating on not making a sound.

  They moved closer. The southern entrance to the plantation was supposed to lead to the kitchen. They moved to that side of the house, protected by the darkness, and moved swiftly toward the door. The information they had from the CIA mole laundress had indicated that the kitchen entrance was the only one with no laser beams or warning device attached to it, because of heavy traffic in and out that door during the day and into the evening.

  Let it still be so, Pepper prayed. She saw Jim reach out, his gloved hand almost caressing the brass knob. Tensing, she waited. Her breath jammed. Her eyes narrowed. Jim slowly twisted the knob. The door opened! Pepper expelled her breath in a relieved sigh.

  Miraculously, she found herself inside the darkened kitchen with Jim, who shut the door as quietly as he’d opened it. Looking around, she realized the room was set up like a restaurant kitchen, with huge pots and pans hanging over commercial appliances. Everything was stainless steel, clean and glinting dully in the pale moonlight. Trying to steady her breathing, Pepper followed Jim across the tiled expanse. So far, so good.

  Their plan was to take the kitchen stairs to the second floor sleeping area. But were guards stationed inside the house? They didn’t know. Pepper watched as Jim drew his Beretta and held it ready in his left hand. Their weapons had muzzle suppressors and silencers, so if they did have to fire, there’d be less chance of detection.

  She drew her own weapon, locked and loaded it, and held it ready in an upraised position in her right hand. The door leading out of the kitchen revealed a sliver of dimly lighted, carpeted hallway. Seeing no one, Jim pushed on the door. It squeaked. Pepper froze. Jim eased it open just enough for them to slip through. Watching the hall, the silence in the house deafening, Pepper moved toward the stairs.

  Luckily, they were carpeted, too, but the two of them climbed slowly, listening for telltale creaks. At the top, they faced another door. This time Pepper took out a small can of oil and applied it to the hinges. As she stuffed the container back into her web gear, Jim nodded his agreement. He got down on one knee and slowly eased the door open. The expanse of carpeted hall, lined with valuable paintings, was blessedly empty.

  In his mind, Jim visualized the blueprint of the second floor. As he moved soundlessly through the doorway, pressing his back against the opposite wall, his gun held ready, he knew that the second door was the one they’d tagged as most likely to be Laura’s room. What if it wasn’t? What if—He savagely stopped himself. First things first. Try the second door, the prison room.

  Pepper joined him, and they inched toward the door. Once there, Jim tried the knob. It was locked. Sweat poured down his body. Outside, he heard the wind rising and the first pings of rain on the roof tiles. Good, it would provide excellent cover—if they could find Laura and escape. His breathing was chaotic as he bent down and, ignoring the pain in his arm, jimmied the lock. He heard a distinct click and froze. The sound might waken whoever was inside. He prayed it was Laura.

  Pepper swallowed hard against a dry throat. Raising her weapon, she watched Jim straighten. His gloved hand moved to the knob. He twisted it. The door opened! Her heart rate skyrocketing, she kept her focus on the door. Would it creak? Awaken the person inside? Give their position away? Her hands tightened around the butt of her weapon.

  The door swung open easily. Moonlight streamed into the room, and Jim saw filmy curtains over windows covered by bars. He slipped into the chamber, every muscle in his body rigid with anticipation. Pepper entered behind him quietly closing the door. Straining to see, he spotted a canopied bed to the right, and his breath caught. Someone was in the bed, all but a twisted sheet thrown aside against the muggy night.

  Pepper remained at the door as a guard, watching him move soundlessly toward the bed and its occupant.

  Jim moved slowly up beside the bed. His eyes widened. A lock of blond hair spilled across the sheet. It had to be Laura! He’d recognize that color anywhere. Holstering his weapon, he leaned closer. It was Laura! She lay with her back to them, curled tightly, the sheet up over her shoulders. How beautiful and untouched she looked, Jim thought as he swiftly placed one hand on her shoulder and the other across her mouth.

  Laura jerked. Her eyes flew open. Instantly, she convulsed, terror in her expression.

  “Ssh! Laura, it’s Jim Woodward!” he hissed, his mouth close to her face. She struggled momentarily and he saw the horror in her eyes, felt dreadfully sorry he had to waken her like this. It took a moment for his words to filter through her panic. Then she stopped struggling. The sheet had fallen away, revealing her slender form covered by a long, pink-silk nightgown. Easing his hand from her mouth, he smiled a little.

  “Are you okay?” Jim wasn’t sure she was. Her eyes didn’t look quite right, he thought, and her skin felt clammy.

  Laura sat up, fear etched in her expression. She looked at Jim and then toward Pepper, in shadows near the door. Automatically,
her hand went to her lips.

  “Jim? Is it you?” Her voice trembled. “Oh, God, am I hallucinating again?”

  He grinned tightly. “It’s me, Tiger. And we’re no hallucination. This is real. We’re real. We’ve come to get you out of here.” He touched her tousled hair, then her cheek, with trembling fingers. His heart flared with anguish. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  Tears welled up in Laura’s eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “Jim, it’s really you,” she quavered. Awkwardly, she threw her arms around his shoulders.

  Groaning, he held her momentarily. They didn’t have time for this. “Laura, listen to me,” he urged in a low, ragged tone, “you’ve got to get dressed.” His eyes darted to his watch. “We’ve got twelve minutes before the guard comes around again. Can you walk? Are you hurt?” he repeated.

  Laura sniffed, fighting tears. “Y-yes, I’ll live.” She climbed out of bed, obviously shaken and uncoordinated.

  “Get some clothes on,” Jim coaxed. He watched her closely. Something was wrong with her. He saw it in the jerky way she opened the drawer, in the terror-filled look in her eyes. The moonlight illuminated bruises on her arms and around her throat. Just what the hell had happened to her? He stopped the questions before he could voice them. Glancing at Pepper, he motioned her over.

  Pepper moved swiftly to Jim’s side, holstering her weapon.

  “Help her get dressed. I’ll stand guard at the door,” he ordered gruffly.

  She nodded. For the first time, she got to meet the woman Jim loved without question. Laura was petite in comparison to her, and Pepper quickly saw how Jim could fall in love with her. In person, Laura Trayhern was beautiful in a delicate, almost-fragile way. Her blond hair, disheveled but still lovely, fell around her face, and her cheeks were flushed pink. But the woman was so obviously shaken that the slacks she’d retrieved from the dresser fell to the floor.

  Pepper quickly retrieved them and handed them to her.

  “Thanks,” Laura quavered.

  Holding her finger to her lips to warn her not to speak, Pepper saw the woman nod shakily that she understood the silent command. Pepper forced herself to listen for other sounds. The rain was pinging sharply against the windows of the room now, and the wind continued to rise. Good. All of that was to their advantage. Laura was trying to hurry, but she fumbled with her clothes. Pepper grabbed a green tank top, helped Laura pull off the silk gown and threw it aside. Completely naked, Laura reached for the slacks.

  Pepper glanced over her shoulder. Jim wasn’t looking. All his attention was on the door and the dangerous possibilities on the other side of it. Returning her attention to Laura, Pepper again could see why Jim would like her. Despite having had two children, the woman was in wonderful shape. Climbing into the slacks, Laura took the tank top from Pepper, pulled on a pair of cotton socks and slid into a sensible pair of leather shoes that Pepper had found in the walk-in closet.

  Jim glanced at them. Nine minutes; it was going to be close. Maybe too close. As he opened the door, he felt Laura come up behind him, her hand tentatively touching his shoulder. Pepper would bring up the rear. Opening the door, he looked both ways. Nothing. He moved in one swift motion across the hall to the stairway door. Laura followed unsteadily. Shoving that door open, Jim moved sideways, and Laura joined him in the stairwell. Pepper? He anxiously looked back toward the hall. She was locking the door. Hurry! he urged silently.

  Pepper turned on her heel and moved quickly to the door he held open for her. She saw the anxiety in Jim’s eyes, and her gaze automatically went to Laura, who stood with her arms wrapped protectively around herself. She was physically trembling, and she didn’t look very steady on her legs. There was more light here, and Pepper could see an oddly waxen quality to her skin, and dark, almost-purple circles beneath her lovely eyes. What kind of torture had she endured? Pepper found her anger surging as she reached out and slid her arm around Laura in support as they made their way down the stairs.

  After checking the downstairs hall, they slipped back into the kitchen. Eight minutes. Again Jim took the lead, opening the door to the yard. A gust of wind almost ripped it out of his hand. Cursing inwardly, he used his body to hold it in place, after making sure no guards were around. With his injured arm, he signaled Pepper sharply to come on through.

  The rain was falling with stinging force, the wind gusting and ebbing. Pepper kept an arm around Laura as she watched Jim move rapidly toward the rear of the house. Seven more minutes before the guard came by. Breathing rapidly through her mouth, she felt Laura sag against her suddenly. Alarmed, she turned and saw that the woman was semiconscious. With a strangled sound, Pepper again holstered her weapon and grabbed Laura’s right arm, pulling it up over her shoulders. She moved her own left arm snugly around her small waist and hitched the woman close against her.

  Jim signaled for them to follow him. Luckily, Laura was a featherweight, Pepper thought as she half dragged, half carried her across the lawn to the jungle. Once under cover of the trees, she relaxed a little. Still, Laura’s feet were dragging, making noise.

  Jim turned at the sound and realized Laura had fainted. Pepper was practically dragging her. Damn! Was Laura drugged? Hurt? Moving back to them, he quickly examined her, discovering several needle marks on both of her arms. Alarm soared through him.

  “She’s been drugged,” he rasped, his voice shaking with fury.

  “I’ll carry her.”

  Jim was about to protest, but realized it would be stupid not to agree to Pepper’s plan. Laura probably weighed less than a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, but he couldn’t carry her with his injured arm. He nodded brusquely, signalling that he’d help Pepper lift her over her shoulders in a fireman’s-carry position.

  Pepper lowered herself to one knee, knowing that that position was the easiest and safest way to carry a person, putting the bulk of their weight across the strength of the carrier’s shoulders. But how long could she actually carry Laura? she wondered. There was a vast difference between lugging sixty-pound packs and hefting a live human weighing more than a hundred pounds. Still, she had no choice. She was grateful when Jim helped maneuver Laura’s limp body expertly across her shoulders. Now it was up to her.

  The wind was strong, slapping at them, and rain slashed at Pepper’s face as she slowly got to her feet. Time was of the essence. She knew that a Coast Guard helicopter, flown by a woman lieutenant commander named Storm Gallagher, would meet them on the beach at exactly 0400. It was now 0325. They had to hurry. They hadn’t counted on Laura being injured.

  As Pepper began to walk with her burden, Jim stayed next to her. The wind and rain covered her mistakes as she moved awkwardly forward. The cold rain fell in sheets, and Pepper shivered despite the heat she was generating with the effort of carrying Laura. Rain dribbled down her face, blinding her, and if it hadn’t been for Jim’s guiding hand gripping her elbow, Pepper knew she would have fallen.

  The fence! Pepper was never so glad to see anything in her life. As they lowered her to the ground, Laura became semiconscious again. Jim moved around and took her in his arms.

  “Laura!” he growled. “Laura, wake up!”

  Pepper knelt nearby, seeing the anxiety and care burning in Jim’s eyes as he spoke. He touched Laura gently, almost like a lover, and it hurt Pepper to her soul. She had been right, after all. Jim loved Laura—still. Pepper tasted salt and realized it was her own tears.

  Laura sat up, encircled by Jim’s arms. “I’m so groggy,” she whispered, touching her brow. “I—I’m sorry. I can hardly think, hardly walk….”

  “I know, Tiger, I know. Look, we need you awake. We have to climb this fence. We can help, but you’ve got to help us, too. Do you think you can do it?”

  Laura shivered. “I’m so cold, Jim. And I’m dizzy.”

  “I understand, honey. But you have to help us. Can you?”

  She nodded, her hair tangled and dripping around her face. “I’ll try, Jim….”

  �
�That’s my Tiger,” he said, hoisting her to her feet. She was none too steady, but Pepper was there, helping keep her upright. Jim led Laura to the fence and turned to Pepper.

  “Let me use your back to get up there. Once I’m on top, help push Laura, and I’ll pull her up and over.” He grimaced. “Somehow.”

  Pepper nodded. She made Laura lean against the fence for support as she waited for Jim to get started up the fence. Once he did, she moved into place beneath him. His muddy, booted feet struck her back, but she stayed steady. With one leap, he made it to the top of the fence, and Pepper was glad for her height. She was able not only to maneuver Laura onto the wrought-iron fence, but to push her upward. Jim caught Laura’s outstretched arms, and Pepper knew what it cost him in terms of pain to gently lower her to the ground on the other side.

  Laura managed to stand when her feet hit earth, and Jim slipped off the top, leaping down beside her. Pepper was next. The wrought iron was slippery from the rain. She knew any minute now the guard could return and catch them. Grunting, she hoisted herself up the fence, her arm and shoulder muscles straining.

  A howling bark broke through the rain and wind. Pepper gasped. She heard Jim curse solidly. Scrambling, jerking a glance to her left, she saw the guard—and the dog. The Doberman had been released and was hurtling toward her! Anxiety shot through her. She saw Jim push Laura to the ground and pull out his weapon.

  Just as she clambered to the top, gunfire ripped through the dark night. A bullet struck the iron inches from her, and sparks flew in all directions. She saw Jim returning fire, but knew he couldn’t aim left-handed, so could offer only temporary cover at best. She had to get off the fence! Adrenaline pumping, Pepper had no choice but to leap. More bullets whined around her. Shoving off, she bent her legs. She hit the muddy ground off-balance. The soil gave way. Tucking, she rolled several times to minimize the force of her landing.