Walker
Lighthouse Security Investigations
Maryann Jordan
Contents
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I have to thank my husband, Michael. Always believing in me and wanting me to pursue my dreams, this book would not be possible without his support. To my daughters, MaryBeth and Nicole, I taught you to follow your dreams and now it is time for me to take my own advice.
My best friend, Tammie, who for over twenty years has been with me through thick and thin. You’ve filled the role of confidant, supporter, and sister.
My other best friend, Myckel Anne, who keeps me on track, keeps me grounded, and most of all – keeps my secrets. Thank you for not only being my proofreader and my Marketing PA, but friend. I do not know what I would do without you in my life.
My beta readers kept me sane, cheered me on, found all my silly errors, and often helped me understand my characters through their eyes. A huge thank you to Denise, Sandi, Barbara, Jennifer, Danielle, Tracey, Lynn, and Jamila for being my beta girls who love alphas!
Shannon Brandee Eversoll as my developmental editor and “G” as my editor and Myckel Anne Phillips as my proofreader gave their time and talents to making all my books as well written as it can be.
My PA Barbara keeps me going when I feel overwhelmed and I am so grateful for not only her assistance, but her friendship.
Chas…thank you for all you do!
Most importantly, thank you readers. You allow me into your home for a few hours as you disappear into my characters and you support me as I follow my indie author dreams.
Author’s Note
Please remember that this is a work of fiction. I have lived in numerous states as well as overseas, but for the last twenty years have called Virginia my home. I often choose to use fictional city names with some geographical accuracies.
These fictionally named cities allow me to use my creativity and not feel constricted by attempting to accurately portray the areas.
It is my hope that my readers will allow me this creative license and understand my fictional world.
I also do quite a bit of research on my books and try to write on subjects with accuracy. There will always be points where creative license will be used in order to create scenes or plots.
Walker (Lighthouse Security Investigations) Copyright 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by: Becky McGraw
ISBN ebook: 978-1-947214-38-5
ISBN print: 978-1-947214-39-2
Created with Vellum
I have never traveled to Mexico, but had the opportunity to live in Cairo, Egypt for two years, where I observed treasures and antiquities. I still remember the first time I saw the pyramids and was awestruck at their majesty. This book is dedicated to all of us who love to travel and see the wonders of the world (and for those of us who are armchair travelers).
1
Breathtaking. It was the only word Julie Baxter could think of at the moment. Breathtaking. And she should know, considering she had spent the last ten days looking at one incredible site after the other. With the sun shining in the brilliant blue sky and the lush green forests in the distance, she felt as though she could see forever into the past, peeking into ancient civilizations.
She had started her journey in Villahermosa, Mexico, on a two-week private tour of the Mayan ruins. In the past ten days, she had experienced the splendor of Mexico and learned more about the Mayan culture than she could have possibly imagined. Cities that lay in ruin. Buildings where the jungle threatened to overtake the stones. Temples to ancient deities. Architecture. Daily life. Royal life. Pyramids that reached to the sky affording a view unlike any she had ever seen.
And now, the city of Chichén Itzá was the stop for the day. The breeze blew her dark hair, whipping it about her face. Reaching inside her large, cross-body bag, she pulled out a hair clip and with a practiced hand twisted her hair up and clipped it into place. Reaching back into her bag for her phone, she began taking what seemed like the millionth picture since the tour had begun.
She wanted to capture every image possible considering this was the trip of a lifetime. On a teacher’s salary, she would rarely be able to afford a two-week private tour that included luxury accommodations with all meals provided.
“Ms. Baxter! Ms. Baxter!”
Turning, she smiled at her charges. Tiffany Daniels, Andrea Tucker, and Jackie Dumont scrambled up the stone steps toward her. All wearing capris and t-shirts, comfortable sneakers, and ball caps to shade their eyes from the strong sunlight, they looked every bit the American teenager tourist.
“I don’t suppose you’d have an extra granola bar in your Mary Poppins bag, would you?” Andrea asked, coming to a stop a few steps below her.
Responding to Andrea’s pleading expression, Julie shook her head. “I told you to eat more breakfast at the resort this morning.” As she spoke, she began digging in her bag.
“I know. I know,” Andrea agreed, tossing her blond braid over her shoulder. “I just don’t feel hungry first thing in the morning.”
“That’s not my problem,” Jackie said, her hands on her hips. “I think I could eat anytime, anywhere!” She took off her cap and ran her hand over her hair before pulling the dark curls back into a sloppy bun, flyaway tendrils around her face already wet with sweat.
Tiffany plopped down on one of the stone steps and looked at her arms. She began digging in her small backpack, pulling out sunscreen. “I wish I tanned like you do, Jackie. All I seem to do is burn.” With her pale skin and strawberry blonde hair, she was ripe for burning.
Julie’s sharp eyes ran over Tiffany’s complexion and immediately squatted in front of the young woman. “Let me see.” Ascertaining that Tiffany was just turning
a little pink but not a serious burn, she brought out more sunscreen. “You and me, sweetie. We both burn.”
After a moment, the four moved to a section of the pyramids that did not have the direct sun beaming down on it. The girls shared granola bars and bottled water while Julie reapplied her own sunscreen. Pulling out her ever-present planner, she made notes of what they had seen this morning.
“Oh, it looks like Hernando is looking for us again,” she commented, seeing their friendly, ever-smiling tour guide climbing the steps.
“What did you think?” Hernando asked, wiping his brow with a large, white handkerchief. Dressed in khaki pants and a khaki shirt he looked every bit the efficient tour guide. “Did you make sure to clap at each different side of the pyramid to hear the different sounds?”
The girls nodded, their enthusiasm never waning, and Julie was proud of them. A two-week tour of Mexico during the summer had been fun and educational but also hot and tiring. The girls were troopers and began chatting with Hernando, alternating between listening to his lectures and asking questions.
“Why does Chichén Itzá have less jungle around it?” Amanda asked, staring at the wide lawn of grass. “It’s beautiful here, but Palenque looked more primitive.”
Hernando rubbed his hands together and exclaimed, “Excellent question! The jungle around Palenque covers almost ninety percent of the beautiful site near the main temple. And of course, that’s what gave it the beautiful, lush atmosphere. Because the Chichén Itzá is closer to the tourism of Cancún, the lands around it have been graded to push the jungle back. From what the archaeologists tell us, this is more like what it would’ve looked like when the Mayans lived here. With Palenque, the jungle has naturally grown closer and closer, overtaking many of the buildings.”
Julie listened to Hernando’s explanations to the girls’ questions and soaked in all the history that she could, thrilled to be on this journey. Moving from the shade, the group made their way to the Great Ball Court where Hernando demonstrated the acoustically perfect walls. Sending the girls to different locations, he said, “Miss Daniels, turn and speak to the northern wall, and Miss Tucker will be able to hear you as she stands at the southern wall.”
They all began to try his experiment, laughing as they realized he was correct. Using her phone, Julie videotaped the girls, deciding to send it to Senator and Mrs. Daniels that evening.
Hernando continued, “We know from the carvings along the walls that this area was used for some games.”
“Like the Olympics in Greece?” Jackie asked, moving closer to the wall so that she could view the intricate carvings.
“I would like to say yes,” Hernando admitted, “but we are not exactly sure. The walls are eight meters high, about twenty feet, and the entire length of the main playing area is over three hundred feet long.”
“How does that compare to our football fields, girls?” Julie asked. She watched as they quickly calculated and determined that it was almost the same size.
“But why is the wall so high?” Tiffany asked, her gaze roving upward. “Where would the spectators stand?”
“It is supposed that the spectators would’ve stood at the top of the walls looking down. The sport has several variations that have been discovered through many carvings throughout the centuries. Generally, it is thought that the players would keep a rubber ball continually bouncing between these two walls.”
Julie stood at the end and tried to imagine the shouts from those above as the players below engaged in an epic battle of sport. Just as she was wondering what accolades the victors would win, Hernando continued his lecture.
“They may have worn a belt of some kind, used to hit the ball.” He moved his hips, demonstrating the movement, eliciting peals of laughter from the girls.
Moving closer to the wall, he captured their attention when he pointed to a particular group of carvings. “Here, we can see the depiction of a beheaded player, so we can assume that some of them paid the ultimate price when they lost the game.”
“Eew,” Tiffany shuddered, taking a step back. Julie moved closer and placed her arm around Tiffany.
“That’s horrible,” Andrea said, turning toward Hernando with a scowl on her face.
As the athletic one of the group, Jackie declared, “That’s sports.”
Nodding, he agreed. “If there’s anything you’ve learned from me in the last week or so, it’s that the Mayans were not to be trifled with. If you recall, when we were discussing Mayan culture, blood was considered to be a source of nourishment for their gods. They did not just sacrifice anyone. It was usually high-status prisoners of war that were sacrificed. So perhaps, whoever was forced to play in the Ball Court were prisoners. The lower status captives would have been kept for slaves. It is suggested that one of the reasons their culture did not survive was that they did not subjugate when they captured another kingdom. But rather, they would eliminate everyone.”
“We’ve seen the pyramid and temple. Can we now take a look at the observatory ruins?” Julie prodded.
“Of course, of course! Follow me,” Hernando said, his ever-present, wide, white-toothed smile beaming at them.
Julie gave Tiffany a one-armed hug and whispered, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I feel silly when I get upset about those kinds of stories.” Giving a rueful chuckle, Tiffany added, “I’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”
“I’m surprised that you wanted to take this trip.”
“Dad really wanted me to do something different this summer since I’m getting ready to start my senior year. He and Mom researched the area and decided that this part of Mexico was the safest.” Shrugging, she added, “And I really do like ancient history.”
Seeing Hernando walk away at a brisk pace, she said, “We’d better catch up. We don’t want to miss anything.”
They jogged ahead, quickly pulling alongside the others as Hernando began pointing out the ruins of the observatory.
“Of all the ancient cultures, the Mayan’s calendar system is the most complex and accurate. They used shadow casting devices and observations to trace the pattern of the sun. They used these alignments in the placing of pyramids and buildings in their cities.”
As Hernando continued to lecture, Julie walked around, impressed with the ancient people’s ability to study and learn. Beats playing a ball game where only the winner gets the right to live!
Not particularly athletic, she understood the desire to study the heavens much more than appreciating an ancient sport.
2
Walker paid no attention to the gorgeous Maine coastline nor the shouts coming from the grassy knoll next to the rocky shore. As a former SEAL, James Walker knew how to focus entirely on the matter at hand. And right now, the matter at hand was trying to get the ball into the net at the other end of the watery field of play while kayaking.
The two teams were evenly divided, five men each. Captain of his team, Walker claimed Rank, Tate, Cobb, and Bray. The other team, led by their boss, Mace, sported Josh, Blake, Clay, and Drew.
Mace Hanover had created Lighthouse Security Investigations, determined to hire the best. Each of his nine employees were recruited from former SEALs, Rangers, Special Forces, Deltas, and Air Force Special Ops, but they had also been trained as CIA Special Ops. Nicknamed Keepers from the Lighthouse Keepers of old as the original rescuers.
Mace believed in team building, camaraderie, and staying fit, and none of them were opposed to healthy competition. Or any kind of competition, Walker thought as he came up behind Drew and used his kayak as a weapon, snagging the ball away. The waves made for an unpredictable playing field.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Drew cursed, righting his kayak and turning around.
It was too late since Walker had the ball, and his team was providing perfect coverage as he paddled toward the nets. Looking over, he saw Mace paddling from the left, fast enough to come between him and the goal.
“Walker…clear!” Tate called from the side.
Hating to miss his shot, he nonetheless fired the ball toward Tate who snagged it easily but was almost tipped over by Clay, whose paddle knocked the ball out of Tate’s hand.
“Fuck,” he grunted as Mace came at him from the side. Maneuvering around quickly, he paddled closer to Clay as Cobb captured Clay’s attention on the other side. Even in August the water off the coast of Maine was cold, but as it sprayed over his body, the cool felt refreshing.
Clay tipped, and Walker snagged the ball, tucking it between his knees as he dodged the others on his way toward the goal. Seeing Mace coming at him again, he faked a toss, and Mace hesitated just enough for Walker to plow through the sliver of open water. With only a few seconds left before Josh came at him, he threw the ball into the net.
Hands in the air, a war cry was emitted while a cacophony of laughing and cursing ensued. No matter who won, the competition was good-natured, and the ten men began paddling toward the small strip of pebbled beach. Now, on the ocean field of victory, he was able to appreciate the blue, choppy water and full sunshine with only a few white clouds dotting the sky. Careful of the waves that were crashing against the shore, he easily maneuvered his kayak closer.
Beyond the rocks stood the tall, glistening white lighthouse. The main house was connected, whitewashed as well, with a red roof. Even in August the grass was lush and green and the surrounding forest thick with trees. He had traveled all over the world but had to admit that Mace had found a slice of paradise to start his business.
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