Nowhere to Hide

by Debby Giusti

  “Ask and you shall receive.”

  He’d asked for God’s help, and he’d gotten it.

  Thank You, Lord.

  If only Lydia would realize the power of prayer. He thought back to the night they’d kissed, the memory bringing a smile to his lips.

  “Keep your mind on the road,” he said aloud, laughing like a schoolboy in love.

  Matt turned on the radio and tuned in an easy listening station. Music filled the truck. A woman’s fetching soprano told a tale of love and heartbreak that followed one upon the other. His elation plummeted.

  If the situation in Atlanta resolved, Lydia would probably head back to the big city. Where would that leave him? Like the singer said, “Alone and lonely with only a memory to hold in the night.”

  Matt switched the station.

  “And now the weather,” the announcer said. “The storm off the Southeastern coast of the United States threatens to come ashore by early evening. Storm trackers place the path between Jacksonville and Savannah. Coastal residents are warned to stay vigilant and tuned to local weather stations.”

  Matt turned off the radio and picked up his car phone. He punched in Lydia’s number. Her voice sounded strained when she answered.

  “It’s Matt.”

  “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  “The weather report said the storm will hit this evening. If it gathers strength you and Tyler need to evacuate. I’ll call Jason and have him give you a hand getting off the island.”

  “He has enough to handle without babysitting the boss’s girlfriend.”

  Matt liked her choice of words.

  “We can get to the mainland on our own,” Lydia assured him. “When are you coming back to Sanctuary?”

  “As soon as I can. Keep your doors locked, Lydia, and use the silent alarm if there’s trouble.”

  Lydia stood on the deck, studying the darkening sky. A storm had welcomed them to Sanctuary and now another might force them to leave.

  So much had happened since their arrival. She had found a man who cared for her, a man Tyler adored. In her heart, she knew Matt wanted what was best for both of them. That’s why he was headed to Atlanta to turn in the information Sonny had collected, information that would bring an end to their ordeal.

  Rain began to fall, and she raced back into the house. Tyler was in his room, packing a few toys in his backpack.

  “I’ve got my Action-Pac,” he said, tapping the zipper compartment of his tote. When he looked up at her, his face was lined with worry.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “Remember when you checked the game discs, Mom?”

  Right after the fire. “Yes, I remember.”

  “I forgot to give one of them to you. It didn’t work so I threw it in the trash.” He glanced at the can in the corner. “That’s okay, isn’t it, Mom?”

  “Of course.”

  He hesitated for a long moment, brow wrinkled. “What about Dad’s pocketknife?”

  Lydia looked down at her child. Sonny had promised Tyler could have the knife when he turned ten. She had found it in the rubble of the fire and tucked it in her handbag for safekeeping.

  “The knife’s in my purse. I won’t forget it.”

  He nodded, and for a second, Tyler looked years older than his age. He was growing up too fast. Let him be a boy for a little longer.

  “Finish packing while I call Bobby’s mom,” she said, leaving his room. In the kitchen, she picked up the phone and tapped in the Jacksons’ number.

  “It’s Lydia,” she said when Sarah answered. “Tyler and I are heading to the mainland soon. Can you recommend someplace safe where we can ride out the storm?”

  “Oh, Lydia.” Sarah sounded stressed. No doubt the approaching storm had her troubled. “I wish you could follow us, but I’m driving straight to my parent’s house. Bobby and I are leaving Rob.”

  From her tone of voice, something more than a storm was brewing at the Jackson house. “Leaving? You mean because of the storm?”

  “I wish that’s all it was. Look, I can’t talk now. But if you and Tyler head west, you’ll eventually get to Interstate 95 and the motels. You’ll be safe there. I promise to call when Bobby and I are settled.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Sarah sighed. “Pray for us, Lydia.”

  If only she could.

  Atlanta traffic snarled through the city at a pace that tried Matt’s patience. Two lanes closed for road repair had turned the city’s interstate into gridlock.

  Matt picked up his phone. He had called Roger Harris earlier to set up an appointment with the chief of police. Because of the traffic delays, he wouldn’t make the scheduled meeting.

  “Roger, it’s Matt. I’m hung up in traffic coming into the city. Can you relay that to the chief? See if I can move the meeting back thirty minutes or so.”

  “Will do.”

  By the time Matt arrived at police headquarters, he felt as though he’d been pounded in the gut with a baseball bat from the frustration eating a hole in his stomach. He needed to deliver his information and head back to Sanctuary. Lydia and Tyler were still in danger, and with the encroaching storm, the island might have to be evacuated. This wasn’t the day for him to be lollygagging in Atlanta.

  Harris greeted him when he stepped into the office. “The chief’s not here. There’s an emergency at Lenox Square. Doubt he’ll be back at headquarters before the end of the day.”

  “Then tell me how to get to Lenox?”

  “No can do, buddy. He won’t be dealing with anyone or anything except the current issue until tomorrow at the earliest. White powder and a large amount of it. It’s got the city spooked. Hazmat did an initial test and found it positive for anthrax.”

  “Yeah, and how often are they wrong?” Matt’s irritation was evident in his voice. “You know those initial tests are too sensitive. Didn’t you have something over at Fort McPherson a few years ago? Hazmat said it was a sure thing, then twenty-four hours later, the CDC gives the all clear.”

  Harris let out a breath. “I hear you. But that still won’t get you in to see the chief.” Harris held out his hand. “Give me the file. I’ll make sure he sees it once the emergency passes.”

  Matt wanted to discuss the information with the Chief and no one else. “You ever have any dealings with the Men’s Club?”

  “Not me.”

  “How about Paris?”

  “Yeah, he was working that arson case.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Matt said.

  Lydia’s contact hadn’t been sure of the dirty cop’s name. Matt had worked with Harris in Miami. Six years and not a blemish on the man’s record.

  Everything told him Harris wasn’t involved, but he wouldn’t do anything to endanger Lydia and Tyler.

  “The file can wait. Tell the chief to call me when the anthrax scare is over.”

  Anxious to get back to Sanctuary before the storm hit, Matt hastened to his pickup, slid into the driver’s side and dropped the printout on the seat next to him. Grabbing his car phone, he dialed the cell he’d given Lydia.

  “The chief was tied up with a possible anthrax scare,” Matt said when she answered.

  “Did you leave the information?”

  “I couldn’t. Not that I think Harris is involved. But you and Tyler are too important to me to take a chance by divulging your whereabouts or the evidence Sonny hid.”

  “Oh, Matt,” she sighed.

  “I’ll return to Atlanta after the storm passes and when the chief’s free. He’ll get the names, just a few days later than I planned. How’s Tyler?”

  “Right now, he’s eating oatmeal cookies and watching a DVD.”

  “And the weather?”

  “Raining. The wind’s picked up a bit. I managed to fasten the shutters on all the windows. We’ll leave as soon as I cover the sliding door to the deck.”

  “You need to get off the island now, Lydia.”

>   “When I finish.”

  “Leave it. Your safety’s more important than the house. Katherine would tell you the same thing.”

  “It’ll only take me a few minutes.”

  Matt hung up with worry gnawing in his gut. He tapped in the number to security headquarters. No answer. The call automatically forwarded to Eunice.

  “How’s the weather?” he asked.

  “Getting worse. The water’s rising. The guys are notifying the residents of a possible evacuation.”

  “Contact Jason. Tell him to head over to 50 Cove Road. That woman who moved into Katherine O’Connor’s house needs help.”

  “Any idea when you’ll be back in the area?”

  “ASAP, Eunice. Keep me posted.”

  Matt closed his cell and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing.

  He tried again.

  The truck was only a year old and top-of-the-line. No reason to have a problem and way too early to need a new battery.

  Grumbling, he climbed out and raised the hood.

  Oh, yeah, he had a problem. A big one.

  Someone had yanked out the fuel pump relay.

  TWENTY

  Lydia raised the first of the two storm shutters to the sliding-glass door and slipped it into place. Wiping the rain from her face, she adjusted the hood on her coat and reached for the second shutter.

  Tyler stuck his head out the door.

  “Stay inside, honey. I don’t want you to get wet.”

  “Mom, there’s a man at the front door.”

  “Who is it?”

  Tyler shrugged, a worried look wrapped around his small face.

  “Get your slicker. We’ll leave in a few minutes.”

  Glancing around the corner of the house, Lydia spied a pickup parked in the front drive with the familiar security logo on the door.

  “Matt—”

  She stepped forward before realizing the person peering through the front door peephole wasn’t Matt.

  “May I help you?” she called over the rising wind.

  The guy twirled around, seemingly caught off guard.

  “Matt phoned Eunice. Said you were still on the island. I’m Butch Griffin with security.”

  Lydia remembered the young woman she had met at Matt’s office. “You’re Natalie’s dad. Thanks for coming over.” She pointed toward the back of the house. “I’ve got one last shutter to slip into place. Mind giving me a hand?”

  Butch shook his head. “No way, lady. We’ve got a mandatory island evacuation.”

  “But—”

  “The water’s rising. Your car won’t make it across the mainland road. I’ll have to drive you out.”

  “I didn’t think it had gotten that bad.”

  “Leave everything. Let’s go.”

  “My son’s in the house.”

  Butch nodded. “Get the boy. We’ll take my truck.”

  Lydia hastened inside and glanced at the boarded-up windows. Hopefully Katherine’s home would survive the storm. Lydia pulled the heavy curtain over the sliding door. If only the uncovered safety glass would withstand the raging wind.

  The house seemed eerily dark as she grabbed Tyler’s slicker. She could care less about their few possessions. The important thing was keeping Tyler safe.

  She glanced at the oil painting on the wall depicting Christ on the Sea of Galilee.

  You protected the disciples from the storm. Now protect us.

  Butch entered the house and stood in front of Katherine’s curio cabinet, eyeing the figurines.

  “That man scares me, Mom,” Tyler whispered as she guided his arms into the slicker. “I pushed the alarm.”

  “You did what?”

  “The silent warning. Remember Chief said to tap in the code if a bad man was outside? I sent Matt the signal.”

  “Honey, Mr. Griffin is here to help us. Besides, Matt’s in Atlanta. He won’t be back for a few more hours.”

  Lydia didn’t know how to cancel the alarm. Not wanting to cause more trouble, she decided not to tell Butch about Tyler’s rash mistake.

  The rain pounded them as Lydia helped Tyler into the truck and scooted in next to him.

  “I called Eunice,” Butch said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Mainland road’s already flooded. We’ll head to the marina. There’s a boat that’ll take care of you.”

  His choice of words sent goose bumps scurrying along her arms. Evidently, Eunice hadn’t mentioned the silent alarm.

  At the end of the driveway, Griffin turned north toward the marina.

  Lydia pulled Tyler close. He felt warm. “Does your tummy hurt, honey?”

  “No, but my head does,” he admitted.

  She dropped her cheek to his forehead. “You’ve got a fever.”

  “There’s a hospital on the mainland, if the kid’s sick,” Butch said.

  Probably just a twenty-four hour virus, but after Tyler’s harrowing experience in the rip current, she’d feel better having a doctor look him over. If Tyler had aspirated water, something more serious might set in. Butch was right. They could get medical help once they reached the mainland.

  Rain pounded the car. The windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the deluge.

  Lydia strained to see the road. “Whose boat are we taking?”

  “Neighbor of yours. Jackson.”

  “Bobby’s dad? I thought he already left the island.”

  Butch snorted. “Wife and kid got out by car. Jackson wanted to take his boat.”

  Lydia drew Tyler closer. Whatever problems Sarah and Rob were experiencing, Lydia knew she could count on Rob to get them safely to the mainland.

  At the marina, the wind whipped off the ocean, sending sprays of water flying over the dock. The gray sky grew even darker as Lydia and Tyler crawled out of the truck.

  Tyler tugged on her arm. “Mom, look.”

  He pointed to the far side of the parking lot where a lone car sat parked.

  A black Mercedes.

  Lydia adjusted the hood on Tyler’s slicker to keep the rain off his face. “It’s okay, honey. Lots of people have that type of car.”

  Griffin nudged her forward. “Hurry, you two. The water’s rising.”

  Taking Tyler’s hand, she guided him toward the large boat at the end of the pier. Even to her less than nautical eyes, the high-powered craft appeared seaworthy.

  She’d be glad when she saw her neighbor. A friendly face would ease her concern.

  Rob came out on deck as they approached, his face strained. Stepping onto the dock, he picked Tyler up and carried him onto the boat. Griffin and Lydia followed.

  “Thanks so much,” she said once they were in the cabin. Protected from the storm’s fury, she felt a sense of relief. She led Tyler to a small couch, sloughed out of her wet raincoat and helped Tyler take his off, then sat next to him.

  “Tyler’s got a fever, Rob. He needs to see a doctor.”

  “The storm’s moving in fast. We’ve got to get underway. We’ll talk later.”

  Tyler rested his head on Lydia’s shoulder and closed his eyes. The heat from his body burned against her.

  Lydia laid Tyler on the couch and climbed the steps to the bridge. Surely, Rob had a first-aid kit on board with something to combat fever.

  Sheltering her eyes with her right hand, she held on to the stair railing thankful for the canopy that buffered the wind and rain.

  She glanced around. The boat was headed away from the mainland.

  “Aren’t we going the wrong direction?” she called out over the sound of the powerful engine and the waves slapping against the craft.

  Rob turned to glare at her. “Get below, Lydia.”

  She pointed to the large gray forms rising in the distance. “Those are the boulders by Katherine’s house.”

  Griffin grabbed Lydia’s arm.

  “Take her below,” Rob ordered. “Watch both of them.”

  “Let go of me,” she demanded.

  Griffin shoved her toward the ca
bin. She pulled her arm free and glared up at Rob. “What’s going on?”

  “Tying up loose ends, Lydia.”

  “I…I don’t understand.”

  “Your husband didn’t understand, either.”

  She gasped. “You knew Sonny?”

  “I know most of the people who work at my club.”

  “Your club?”

  “Sonny liked the rich life, the big homes and fancy cars. Of course, when he realized the club was involved in diverse activities, we had a parting of the ways.”

  “He came to Sanctuary to see you,” she said, everything falling into place. “Is Joel involved, as well?”

  “Not that wimp.” Rob laughed. “Sonny came down to help me with a special Web project. A few weeks later, he tells me his aunt is looking at property on the island. Guess he figured one of these days the old broad would die, and he’d inherit the house. Setting himself up for the future.”

  “The black Mercedes. That’s your car.” Lydia glared at Rob. “When Sonny wanted out, you killed him.”

  Rob glanced at Griffin. “Talk to my man, Butch.”

  She whipped around to look at the security guard. “You set the fire in my house.”

  “Just following orders from the boss.” Griffin’s shirtsleeve rose as he pointed to Rob, exposing an A.P. digital watch.

  “You tried to grab Tyler in the school yard,” Lydia gasped. “Which one of you broke into Katherine’s home?”

  “You made it easy for me,” Rob said. “The sliding-glass door wasn’t locked.”

  “But the alarm—”

  “Bobby saw Tyler punch in the code.” He smiled. “Kids can be so helpful.”

  He glanced down into the cabin where Tyler slept. “Your boy said his dad had given him a high-tech toy. What better place for a computer geek to hide the evidence. I checked all the discs. Nothing.”

  Rob pursed his lips. “Did a little nosing around while I was there. Made sure there was no evidence to worry about. After I get rid of you and Tyler, the police will shut the book on Sonny Sloan and family. They’ll think you set the fire, instead of Griffin.” He looked at his accomplice. “Mr. Pyro Man, we call him.”

  Butch bared his teeth. “Fire can be used in so many ways. Even for a guy who needed to be silenced in jail.”