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"Right now,Morgan. Time is a luxury we don't have."
"Now?"Her mind spun with the implications. This wasn't caution on Thomas' part; itwas urgency, and that unsettled her even more. "Where?"
"Rememberthe old warehouse district, down by the docks? Bay Street, Pier 9. Be there inthirty minutes. And come alone, Morgan. Trust goes both ways."
"Thirtyminutes," she echoed, the words a silent vow.
"See yousoon," Thomas replied before the line went dead.
Morgan stoodmotionless in the backyard, the phone still clutched in her hand. The realityof stepping once more into the fray, of confronting those who had orchestratedher ruin, wrapped around her like the cool embrace of the night. She cast afinal glance at the house where Derik lay oblivious to the night's unfoldingdrama, then slipped back inside to prepare.
There was noturning back now.
