by Debby Giusti
“Naw. Not Harris. He’s close-lipped, but one of the other guys. Guess he had a buddy in your old department. Said you weren’t to blame for your partner’s death.”
Matt’s stomach tightened. He remembered his cell phone ringing and the message Pete had left on voice mail. “Drug bust’s going down tonight. Meet me at the warehouse.”
A message Matt had retrieved too late.
Butch sniffed again. “A guy can’t see around the corners. You know what I mean?”
Matt knew all too well what Butch meant. “You’ve got the job, if you want it.”
“Appreciate it.”
Matt stuck out his hand. “Take the day to find a place to live. Plenty of rental units on the mainland. You might want to stop by the sheriff’s office while you’re there, introduce yourself. We work pretty closely with his department. Fact is they allow us a lot of leeway here on the island. We call them in if we’ve got a serious problem or need to make an arrest. Other than that, they leave us pretty much to fend for ourselves.” Matt handed Butch a map of the area. “That’s the way I like it.”
“Sounds like you and me will do just fine.” Butch stood, grabbed the map and drew his hand to his forehead in the form of a salute.
“See you tomorrow, bright and early,” Matt said. “We’ll get you some clothes. Fill out the paperwork and you’ll be good to go.”
After Butch left, Matt called the sheriff’s office to let them know to expect the new security guard. Eunice would get the forms ready, and by the end of the next workday, Butch would officially be on the payroll.
If the new hire worked out the way Matt hoped, he might be able to leave Sanctuary ahead of schedule.
Picking up the phone, Matt tapped in a Miami number.
“You’ve reached the voice mail of Detective Don Wilson. To leave a message…”
Matt followed the prompt and waited for the beep. “Don, it’s Matt Lawson. Everything’s quiet along the Georgia coast. I’m ready to find greener pastures. Let me know if you’ve heard anything new.”
He hung up and reached for his Bible, rubbed his fingers over the soft leather, then flipped through the pages.
Lead me, Lord. Don’t let me become complacent or swayed by my heart. Show me the path You would have me walk. Into Your hands, I commend my spirit.
ELEVEN
Twenty-four hours later, Sam Snyder’s retirement papers lay on Matt’s desk stamped with the Island Association’s approval. With Butch Griffin on the job, there was no reason not to let Sam go. Matt enjoyed the old man, liked to hear his banter about the early days on the island and appreciated the knowledge he had gained over the years. But Sam’s heart was no longer in security.
Butch seemed to be more than up to filling the old man’s shoes. Of course, not all the members of the team were happy about the new hire.
Jason pushed open the door to the security office and stomped across the hardwood floor. He glared at Matt, then grabbed the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.
“What’s bugging you?” Matt asked. “Bad grade on one of your finals?”
“As if you don’t know.”
Matt sighed. “You’ve been madder than a hornet since Butch Griffin started on the job. He give you a hard time?”
Jason shook his head. “Not me. It’s Natalie.”
Matt scrunched up his face. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what Jason’s long-lost love had to do with the new hire from Atlanta.
“Bet he didn’t mention anything about kin of his living in the area,” Jason said.
“Matter of fact, he said his daughter had a place over on the mainland.”
“And did he tell you her name?”
Matt shook his head. “And I didn’t ask.”
“Well, it’s Natalie. Natalie Baxter. Her mom remarried after she divorced Griffin. Seems Natalie’s stepdad adopted her. She took his name, Baxter.”
The security group was a tight-knit team—small but committed—with each man knowing he could depend on the others. From the tone of Jason’s voice, the young man standing before Matt would have a hard time working with Natalie’s biological dad.
“What’s the real problem, Jason? You still in love with Natalie?”
Matt knew he’d struck pay dirt by the look on Jason’s face. The girl had found greener pastures while the young man served his country in Iraq. Not the first time some deserving “Joe” got the shaft because Uncle Sam deployed him far from home. Matt felt for the kid, but life wasn’t easy, a lesson Jason had learned the hard way when he returned home.
Jason sniffed. “Natalie didn’t have anything good to say about her dad when we were in high school.”
“She was just a teenager.” Matt didn’t want to defend the new hire against a current one, but Jason seemed ready to blow this whole thing out of proportion.
While Natalie seemed nice enough, her judgment of her father had a lot of bias. Jason wasn’t taking that into consideration.
“Whatever happened was a long time ago and it involved Butch and his wife. No need to bring a man’s past into the job today. You understand me, Jason?”
The kid stared at Matt for a long minute. “I’ll work with him. But if I catch him doing anything to Natalie, I’ll—”
“He told me he was trying to reconnect with his daughter. Having her father around might be good when the baby comes.”
Matt tried to remember if he’d seen a ring on Natalie’s left hand. “Who’d she marry?”
“No one. The guy left the area when he found out she was pregnant.”
“That baby will need a man in his or her life. Butch Griffin’s timing might be the best thing that could happen. Give him the benefit of the doubt. People make mistakes.”
“I’ll keep my eye on him,” Jason said. “See what turns up. And you’ll be the first to hear, if I find anything wrong. That is, if you’re still in Sanctuary.”
“I’ll make sure there’s a competent replacement before I move on, Jas.”
“Yeah, right.” Sarcasm was evident. “They’ll probably make Griffin chief.”
Was that the real issue? “He’s replacing Sam. The Association’s still working on my job.”
“Let me know when they find someone.” The kid didn’t look back as he pushed open the door and walked out of the office.
At least Sam Snyder approved of Griffin. Later that afternoon he stopped by Matt’s office to say goodbye.
“Nice to know I’m not leaving the team shorthanded,” the old-timer admitted. “That new boat of mine is a powerhouse. Eats up the water. If you want to go out for a spin or do a little fishing, I’d be honored to have you aboard.”
“Thanks for the offer,” Matt said. “One of these days, I’ll take you up on it.”
“You know the number,” Sam said. “Call me anytime. Day or night.”
Matt hoped to take a few days off before he left Sanctuary for good. Then he thought of Lydia. Why had she come into his life when he was ready to move on?
He told Jason women could get a man into trouble. Maybe he should listen to his own words of wisdom. Might help him when it came to saying goodbye.
The way his heart reacted every time he got close to Lydia was a sure sign he wasn’t thinking straight. Lovely Lydia—a little alliteration that pointed to a problem in his life.
Leave her alone, his voice of reason cautioned.
Matt refused to listen.
The next morning, Matt answered a call from the City of Miami Police Department.
“It’s Don Wilson. Sorry for the delay getting back to you.”
“Thought you were probably on the road,” Matt said.
“New Orleans.”
“Let the good times roll, eh?”
“Mais, oui, monsieur. Your ears should have been burning.”
Matt straightened in his chair. “How’s that?”
“Santiago was spotted leaving a hole-in-the-wall joint down on Bourbon Street.”
“José Santiago
?”
“One and the same. Right-hand man to Ricky Gallegos.”
“The guy who killed Pete,” Matt said.
“An undercover cop saw Santiago, then lost his trail.”
“He could lead us to Gallegos,” Matt reminded Wilson.
“Exactly. Everyone’s on heightened alert. I got home late last night and plan to head back in a day or two. Ran into Vic Wallace at the airport. Made me wish I’d majored in computer technology instead of criminal justice. Wouldn’t have to worry about scum like Gallegos.”
“Vic’s doing okay?”
“Living the good life with the I.T. firm he started. Plus, he took a gamble and invested in that Action-Pac craze sweeping the country. Everything the boy touches turns to gold.”
“Is he still doing a little computer consulting on the side?”
“Horwitz calls Vic in when we need help. Speaking of the boss, Horwitz wanted you to know your job’s still open.”
“He said that?”
“I told you before, Matt. No one blames you.”
“Do me a favor. Let me know when Santiago pops up again. I want to be there, Don.”
Silence.
“Don?”
“Yeah. I owe you one. I’ll make it happen. And think about coming back to Miami. Horwitz said he’ll keep the slot open for two more weeks.”
Matt hung up the phone feeling a sense of euphoria. Spotting Santiago meant Ricky Gallegos couldn’t be far away.
New Orleans. Matt shook his head. He’d wasted all these months in Sanctuary following a bogus lead. Maybe it was time to head back to Miami.
The next call was from the mainland sheriff.
“That new security guard’s just what we needed,” the sheriff said.
Matt settled back in his chair. “How so, Wayne?”
“Gave us a tip. Seems he met a guy down by the wharf. The guy liked the bottle a little too much. Started talking. “Course, he had no idea his buddy buying the booze was involved with law enforcement.”
“What’d the guy say?”
“Said he liked to look in windows on the island. Spy on the ‘rich broads.’ His words, not mine.”
Matt tried to recall everything that had happened the night he’d chased the Peeping Tom. Rob Jackson had stood on his back deck, pointing toward the beach. “Kid ran through my yard. Headed toward the water. ’Bout a minute ahead of you,” Jackson had said.
“How old’s the boozer?” Matt asked the sheriff.
“Forty-two, but he’s been worn hard. Looks mid-fifties, if not older.”
Not a kid, that’s for sure. Maybe Jackson didn’t get a good look at him. Or maybe Griffin found the wrong guy.
“A couple of my guys pulled surveillance after your man tipped us off,” the sheriff continued. “You’ll never guess what we caught the boozer buying?”
“A little crack cocaine?”
“You got that right. We locked him up. Says he never broke into anyone’s home, but we’ll let the lawyers work that out. Give Griffin a pat on the back. He made our job a lot easier.”
Matt returned the phone to the receiver. Griffin was proving his competence. Matt should be elated his newest employee had done such a good job, but something bothered him.
Jealousy?
No. Call it his skeptical nature, but he questioned when things seemed too good to be true.
Like Lydia.
Sweet, smart, a loving mother. Too good to be true? He didn’t think so.
It was all true, but she’d landed in some kind of trouble. Her dead husband was probably at the center of it.
Matt glanced at his watch. Time to make a drive through the island, check on the homes of absentee owners…like the one on Cove Road whose owner was in Ireland.
Or maybe it was better he stayed away. No sense tempting fate, and that’s what Lydia was—so very tempting.
Lydia left the sliding door open, inviting the ocean breeze and the sounds of Tyler and Bobby Jackson playing on the deck to float through the house. Her heart warmed, and for a brief moment she thought how good it would be to live on the island and call Sanctuary home.
She glanced at the painting hanging on the wall of Christ in the boat with the disciples. Her life had been stormy ever since the fire.
“Jesus, I trust in You.” The short prayer stitched on Katherine’s sampler came to mind. Call her a doubting Thomas, but Lydia was convinced God didn’t listen to her prayers. And if she couldn’t rely on God, she had to rely on herself.
A whole world of problems still waited to be solved back in Atlanta. She needed to contact Ruby and the reporter and see if either of them had found information that would shed light on this whole sordid mess.
As soon as Katherine came home to watch Tyler, Lydia would return to Atlanta. With Tyler safe, she could take some risks. If she dug deep enough, the pieces of the puzzle surrounding Sonny’s death eventually had to fall into place.
The sound of tires on asphalt drew her attention to the front window as Matt braked his pickup to a stop. She had wanted to call him over the last few days, but what would she say? Funny thing happened the other night. My emotions got the best of me.
Better to let sleeping dogs lie, not that the man stepping across Katherine’s porch reminded her of a dog.
Anything but.
She smiled, enjoying the way his broad shoulders filled out his polo shirt. The serious look on his face softened when she threw open the door and laughed.
“I thought about tripping my security alarm so I could see you again.”
A smile played over his lips and lit a small glow in the pit of her stomach.
“How about a cool drink on a warm afternoon?” she asked.
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” He stepped into the house as Bobby and Tyler rushed in from the deck.
“Hey, Chief!” Tyler called out.
“What’s up, guys?” Matt followed Lydia into the kitchen. The boys scampered after him.
“Bobby said you’re the best swimmer around,” Tyler said.
Lydia started to squeeze lemons at the counter while Matt motioned the guys to the kitchen window. “Look out there, fellows. What do you see?”
Bobby shrugged. “Water.”
“And some big rocks,” Tyler added.
“That’s right. Rocks and water. But what you don’t see is the strong current that can pull you out to sea or throw you up on those boulders. You boys remember what I said about not swimming in this area.”
Bobby nodded. “Some of the older guys say they swim there.”
“Well, they shouldn’t. It’s dangerous. And I hope you boys understand good water safety.”
“I do, Chief,” Bobby said. “But Tyler can’t swim. He doesn’t know water safety.”
Tyler’s eyes widened. “Someday I’ll take lessons and learn how to swim for miles.”
“The chief taught Chase how to swim,” Bobby volunteered.
Lydia appreciated Matt’s firm yet gentle manner with the two boys. Sonny had little patience with his son and no time for any of his friends. Although she didn’t care for talk about rip currents and treacherous rocks, she liked the way Matt was responding to the boys’ comments.
“Could you teach me?” Tyler asked.
The sincere look on her son’s face made Lydia realize how much her fear was costing Tyler.
“Go outside, boys,” she said, hoping to change the subject. “I’ll bring you a snack.”
Lydia poured four glasses of lemonade arranged them on a tray and carried them to the deck along with a plate of oatmeal cookies.”
The boys ate at the picnic table while she and Matt sat nearby.
“You know how to spoil a guy,” Matt said, reaching for a cookie. “Smells wonderful.”
“Probably just like your mother used to make.”
His face clouded, and he shook his head. “There were five of us. More than she could handle. Not that we were bad kids, just rambunctious. Most days, we were lu
cky to get something to eat for dinner, let alone a snack.”
Lydia looked at Tyler and thought about the differences in people’s lives. She’d do anything to make her son’s childhood one he would always remember with love. At least that’s what she hoped.
“Mom tried to provide what we needed,” Matt continued. “But times were tough.”
“How’d you learn to swim?” she asked.
He smiled. “Church camp each summer. And some great folks who were determined to make a positive impact on my life.”
“Swimming lessons and a little spirituality on the side?”
“Made me realize there was more to life than what the gangs at school were telling me. The swimming paid off with a scholarship to college.”
“And you could teach Tyler?”
Matt tilted his head and stared at her. “Is that something you want me to do?”
The boys suddenly quieted, and Lydia realized Tyler had heard her last question. If the conversation continued, there would be no turning back. But she couldn’t let her own concerns affect her son.
She looked at Tyler. His eyes were wide with anticipation.
“Would you teach Tyler to swim?” she asked Matt.
Her son held his breath.
“I’ll be out of town for a day or two. But I’d be happy to teach him when I get back.”
“Ya-hoo!” Tyler raised his arms over his head and shook them in the air. He slid off the picnic bench and ran to his mother.
“Thanks, Mom.” He wrapped his arms around her neck and gave her the biggest bear hug she’d had in months.
She laughed in spite of the anxiety that pricked at her. “Thank Chief Lawson.”
Tyler pulled away from her and dashed to hug Matt. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said as he buried his head in Matt’s chest.
Lydia watched Matt’s face soften. He placed his large hand around the boy and hugged him back. “Don’t you worry, before long, you’ll be the best swimmer on the whole island.”
Lydia hoped she’d never regret her decision to let Tyler learn to swim. She feared the water, feared it for her son as well as herself.
She looked up to the heavens.
If You’re listening, God, be forewarned. I’ll never forgive You if something happens to Tyler.
