by Debby Giusti
“You guys ready to build a sand castle?”
They both nodded.
“I’ll give you a hand until your teammate arrives. His name’s Tyler. He’s new on the island, staying at Ms. O’Connor’s house.” Matt tossed each of the boys a plastic shovel and drew a circle in the sand, outlining the moat. Dropping to his knees next to the boys, he began to dig.
Every few minutes, Matt eyed the road for passing cars.
Where were they? He’d given Lydia directions. Surely she couldn’t be lost. The main road ran north and south along the water. No one could miss the beach. Maybe he’d placed too much confidence in her rather hesitant agreement to meet him at the park.
Lydia tried to put up a good front, but under the surface, she acted like a skittish colt. Something had her spooked big-time. But what?
The kids worked hard, intent on the task at hand. A breeze blew from the water and sea gulls called from overhead. All in all the activity was going well.
So why was he letting a stranger sour his mood? This time, he’d make sure a pretty face didn’t lull him off course.
“I thought you wanted me to build the moat,” a voice said behind him.
Matt turned to see Tyler standing back from the group, head drooped almost to his chest. Lydia stood next to the child, her arms filled with beach towels.
“Hey, Tyler, I was just helping out until you and your mom arrived. I told the other guys you’d be here soon.”
Matt pointed to a boy with red hair and a face full of freckles. “This is Bobby Jackson.” He indicated a pudgy boy with a gelled flattop. “And Chase Davenport. Bobby lives next to your great aunt and Chase is two doors down. I thought since you guys are neighbors, it’d be nice for you to work together on the castle.”
Bobby handed Tyler a plastic shovel. “You can use this.”
“Thanks.” Tyler took the shovel and began deepening the moat.
Matt brushed the sand from his hands and knees, nodding to Lydia. “Have any trouble finding us?”
“No problem. We stopped at the library first.”
Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, tied with a red ribbon that matched the red shorts and polka-dot blouse she wore. She looked fresh and clean and smelled much sweeter than the kids playing in the sand.
“I wasn’t sure we should do this, but—” she glanced at her son “—Tyler really wanted to be here.”
“I’m glad you came,” Matt said. “Otherwise, I’d be one kid short.” He held out his hand for a beach towel. “Need some help?”
“Thanks.” She handed him a green towel with pink stripes.
He spread it out not far from where Tyler’s team worked, totally absorbed in their project. Lydia sat down.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“Tyler won’t mind if you use his towel.” She handed him another one, which he spread on the sand.
“You must have left Atlanta in a hurry.” Matt tried to sound nonchalant, fishing to catch a tidbit of information.
Lydia shrugged. “A spur-of-the-moment invitation. Katherine thought Tyler and I could use a vacation.”
“The woman’s got a big heart.”
Lydia nodded. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay her.”
“From what I know of Ms. O’Connor, that’s probably the last thing she wants.”
Lydia tilted her head and smiled. For an instant, the tension left her face and her eyes twinkled.
Pretty, but with a wary edge. She should be baking cookies and cheering at Little League games, not running from something…or someone.
He shook off the foolish thought and checked his watch. “Ten minutes left to work,” he called to the kids before turning back to Lydia. “Some of the parents should be showing up soon. A few of the moms and dads set up grills and cook hot dogs and hamburgers for the kids.”
“Is this part of your security chief duties?”
He laughed. “In a roundabout way. Helping kids get a good start in life makes for better citizens in the future.”
“So you’re helping out?”
“Trying to. The kids are great. And the parents are getting more involved. So far it’s been win-win.”
Car doors slammed. Matt glanced in the direction of the sound. “There’s Chase’s dad and Bobby’s parents. Nice people. The Jacksons are Katherine’s next-door neighbors.”
An attractive, thirty-something couple waved to Matt. “Good job, Bobby,” the man called out. The boy sprang to his feet and ran to hug his dad.
“It’s got a moat and two turrets and it’s bigger than the other kids’ castles,” the boy gushed.
Bobby’s mother rumpled her son’s red hair and then walked to where Lydia and Matt were rising from the beach towels.
“Sarah Jackson,” Matt said. “I’d like you to meet Lydia Sloan. She and her son, Tyler, are staying at Katherine O’Connor’s place for a while.”
With a quick smile, warm eyes and auburn hair the color of her son’s, Sarah reached out for Lydia’s hand. “Welcome to Sanctuary. Bobby’s going to love having a friend next door. The two of them can play together.”
Matt watched Lydia take a step back. The overt offer of friendship seemed to overwhelm the newcomer.
“We’re having a sleepover next Saturday,” Sarah continued. “Why don’t you let Tyler spend the night?”
“Thanks for inviting him, but I’m…I’m not sure how long we’ll be staying here.”
“This is my husband, Rob.” Sarah turned to greet a solidly built man who walked up to the group.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said to Lydia as they shook hands. Turning to Matt, he asked, “Any word on the road repairs?”
“Won’t take long once the crew gets started. Right now, they’re working on the main county access road. We’re next in line. I’ll let you know if I hear anything different.”
“Sounds good,” Rob said.
Luke Davenport stepped forward and extended his hand to Lydia. “I’m Chase’s dad. Welcome to Sanctuary.”
“Luke’s head of the Island Association,” Matt added. “He oversees just about everything that happens on Sanctuary.”
Luke slapped Matt’s back. “Having a good security chief helps.”
Matt appreciated the compliment. “Did you get that request I sent over to your office?”
“Don’t suppose I could change your mind?”
Matt shook his head. “I told you a year when I signed on.”
“Give me a couple weeks.” Luke turned to Lydia. “Nice meeting you, ma’am.”
Matt glanced at his watch, then walked to the center of the castle-building area and held up his hands.
“Time’s up, everyone. Brush yourselves off and then look at what the other teams have done. We’ll get the grills going and have some lunch after the announcement of the winning castles.”
The smell of charbroiled burgers filled the air a short time later. A number of the parents hovered around the grills, talking about the Friday night storm.
Lydia stood by herself near where Tyler and the boys played.
Matt had asked the church youth director to judge the sand castles and expected him to arrive at any minute. The kids were hungry, but Matt wanted to announce the winner before they gave thanks and got their food.
The youth director pulled into the parking lot. Matt looked up as a black Mercedes zipped along the road, heading south.
“Okay, kids, gather round.” The children circled Matt, all except Tyler.
Matt’s eyes searched the now-crowded picnic area, but he didn’t see Lydia or the boy.
Tires screeched against the blacktop.
Matt glanced around in time to see Lydia’s SUV race out of the parking lot, heading north.
FOUR
Lydia pressed her foot down on the accelerator while her hands clutched the steering wheel white-knuckle. She wished she could drive until there were no more men who could steal Tyler away.
And she never wanted to see another blac
k Mercedes again.
Of course, that might be tough on an island full of wealthy home owners. The car could have belonged to an island resident merely out for a drive.
Just like that, she felt foolish for running away. Foolish, tired, scared—the same feelings that had plagued her over these last seven months.
Tyler sat forlornly next to her. His blond hair hung damp with perspiration, the smell of a little boy who’d been hard at play filling the car.
Lydia forced in a deep breath, hoping to quiet her pounding heart and the pulse of blood running rampant through her veins. Would she react this way every time she saw a black Mercedes?
Checking her speed, Lydia eased her foot from the gas pedal. “Tyler?”
The boy stared straight ahead.
“I’m sorry we had to leave.”
Tyler’s fingers twisted around the buckle of his seatbelt. “Was he wearing an Action-Pac watch?”
“Who, honey?”
“The man in the black car.”
A chill ran down Lydia’s spine. “Did the man in the school yard wear one?”
Tyler nodded, his eyes wide, his forehead wrinkled with worry. “An A.P. digital. I didn’t see his face, but I saw his watch when he tried to grab me.”
Lydia’s stomach roiled at the memory of that frightful afternoon. Before this, Tyler had never mentioned a watch. Another clue, but would it help her find the man who tried to grab her son?
“You know, honey, sometimes I overreact. Now that I think about it, that wasn’t the same car as in Atlanta. And the driver wasn’t wearing a watch.”
No way she could have seen the man’s wrist, but she needed to reassure her son.
Tyler’s lower lip inched forward in a pout. “Then why’d we have to leave?”
Lydia sighed. How could she explain her immediate panic? Seeing the car had made her heart pound with fear. Her only thought had been to protect Tyler. So she’d pulled him from the beach activity.
Now, the look on her son’s face made Lydia realize her mistake. From here on, she needed to remain calm. Sanctuary Island was far from Atlanta. She and Tyler were safe here. At least for a while.
“I know you wanted to stay longer.”
He scrubbed a sandy hand across his face and captured the tear trailing down his cheek. “Bobby and Chase said we did the best. We could’ve won.”
Tyler needed stability and security, not a mother who ran scared. She smiled reassuringly. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
“Can I see Bobby again?”
“Maybe later.” A normal life, that’s what Tyler deserved, filled with friends and fun.
“Bobby said he’s having some of the guys over next Saturday. He invited me.”
Lydia’s throat constricted. She swallowed the lump threatening to shut off her airway. She wasn’t ready to let Tyler out of her sight for an hour, let alone a whole night. “We’ll see,” was all she could promise.
Turning into Katherine’s driveway, Lydia felt an unexpected sense of coming home. The house that loomed ominously two nights ago seemed like a safe refuge in the light of day.
Birds flittered in the trees, chirping a welcome song as a rambunctious squirrel dug for nuts at the foot of the live oak tree. At the far edge of the lawn, brick-red begonias nestled next to azalea bushes, thick with blooms, while purple periwinkles fluttered in the breeze.
“Get the library books from the backseat,” Lydia told Tyler as she pulled the key from the ignition.
“Bobby doesn’t have schoolwork. He’s on vacation.”
Lydia smiled. “But you’re not. Your school is still in session. At least for another two weeks. You’re on…” She thought for a minute. “A sabbatical.”
Tyler scrunched up his face. “What’s that?”
“It’s time away from your regular work so you can concentrate on special projects.”
“Was that what you were doing on the computer at the library?”
Lydia sighed. She hated lying, but she never wanted her child to know about his father’s nefarious activities.
“I’ve got an idea for a project I think you should do.”
Tyler’s shoulders slumped as he grabbed the books from the backseat, slammed the door and sighed. “More work.”
“Would a PB&J make it better?”
His face brightened. “Yum!”
Lydia had just handed Tyler his sandwich when the phone rang. She tensed. Who would be calling?
Slowly, she raised the phone to her ear and smiled with relief when she heard Katherine’s hello.
“How’s your sister-in-law?” Lydia asked immediately.
“Feisty and stubborn. The doctor said her progress is remarkable.”
“Because you’re there to help. You’ve been so thoughtful to us, as well, Katherine. Clothing and toys for Tyler, groceries—”
“Enough of that. I knew you’d never use my credit card. I decided to take the situation into my own hands. Besides, we’re family. And that’s what families do. Help one another.”
“How can I ever thank you?”
“By taking care of yourself and Tyler. You’ve been through so much. Use this time to heal.”
Tears stung Lydia’s eyes. She blinked to keep them from spilling down her cheeks, grateful Tyler had gone into the living room to play.
“I know what you had to put up with when it came to Sonny,” Katherine said.
“He tried to be a good father. It was the husband role that seemed to be the problem.”
“I blame his upbringing. And that sister of mine who ran off and left him as a child. Then his father thought he could raise him and wouldn’t ask for my help. Without God in his life, Sonny never learned about sacrifice and commitment. Tell me, dear, were you ever happy?”
The question caught Lydia off guard.
“At first everything seemed good. Maybe I was naive. We were young and poor.”
Despite their differences, she and Sonny had made the best of a bad situation. Until the day she had walked into his office and discovered the vile pictures on his computer screen.
Change of subject. “You know, Katherine, I saw some photos on a bulletin board in the Community Center.”
“Joel Cowan’s work. He’s the island photo bug.”
“Funny, but a man in one of the pictures looked like Sonny.”
“Why that’s odd. Sonny always said he was too busy to visit the island.”
“But he encouraged you to move here.”
“That’s right, dear. After Patrick died. Sonny said a man he worked with knew about the gated community. Although Sonny never implied he’d been to Sanctuary.”
If Sonny hadn’t visited Katherine, then what had he been doing on the island? And who was the other man in the photo?
“My mistake, no doubt,” Lydia said. “I hope you can relax a bit while you’re in Ireland. See some of the sights.”
“Actually, one of the neighbors took me for a nice ride today. A gentleman about my age. He’s been so thoughtful. I invited him to join us for dinner. I must say I’m enjoying his company.”
Lydia smiled, happy for the woman who seemed more like her aunt than Sonny’s.
“Wouldn’t hurt you to look around, Lydia. Find someone to make your days a little brighter. In due time, of course.”
Matt Lawson’s smiling face as he worked with the children on the beach came to mind. Lydia shook off the thought and concentrated on what Katherine was saying.
“Tell that sweet grandnephew of mine to go next door and meet Bobby Jackson. They’re about the same age. Sarah and Rob are good folks.”
“The boys are already friends.” Lydia told Katherine about the contest and the fun on the beach.
“I’m glad he had a good time. By the way, the Community Church is on the mainland, just off the Bay Road. Nice congregation. When you’re ready.”
“Matt mentioned it.”
Katherine gave Lydia her phone number in Ireland. “Your cell won’t work trans
atlantic.”
“Stupid of me, but I forgot it in Atlanta,” Lydia admitted. Really stupid. In her rush to pick up Tyler, she’d left the phone at the police station.
“No problem, just call direct. And hug Tyler for me.”
Lydia hung up, wondering about the Community Church Katherine mentioned. Matt said he helped with the youth program. Not what she expected from a former cop. But then, she had a jaded view of law enforcement.
“Can I play on the beach, Mom?” Tyler called from the living room.
“May I,” Lydia corrected. “Let’s take a walk instead. The fresh air will do us both good. I’ll get a plastic bag. We can collect shells.”
Lydia turned on the security alarm and locked the door behind them. Tyler grabbed his Frisbee off the picnic table and stopped at the edge of the deck where he sloughed off his shoes, then skipped ahead to the beach, spraying a fine stream of white sand with each footfall.
He kicked his feet in the waves and splashed cool saltwater on Lydia’s legs as she neared. Giggling with glee, he tossed his Frisbee into the air and raced to catch the flying disc before it landed.
“Not too far into the water,” Lydia warned as he ran through the surf.
Bobby’s house sat next to Katherine’s. The brick two-story had a wide deck that led down to a terraced yard where a children’s climber filled the grassy knoll.
Two houses south, they passed what Matt had said was Chase’s home, a grand Tudor that sat back from the beach. Three more palatial dwellings peered at them through the foliage of live oaks and tall pines as they continued along the shore.
Pointing to a bed of colorful shells, Lydia pulled the plastic bag from her pocket. “Let’s collect seashells.”
The bag was half-full when someone called to them.
Looking up, she shaded her eyes and saw a pink stucco three-story home rimmed in decks with wrought iron railings. A pool, gazebo and formal garden decorated the backyard where a tall, slender man stood on a lookout platform that separated the beach from the lush lawn.
“I heard I had new neighbors. You must be Lydia Sloan,” he called down from his perch.
News traveled fast on the island, she thought as he descended the stairs and jogged toward them.
