Nearing the shore, the men jumped into the chilly water, lifting their kayaks over their heads, scaling the rocky hill toward the spectators.
Setting his kayak on the ground, he grabbed one of the towels laid out for them and scrubbed it over his hair and body. Forgoing a T-shirt, he enjoyed letting the sun offer its warmth straight to his skin. Tall, muscular, his dark hair and blue eyes gave evidence to his Irish heritage.
Mace’s adopted son, David, ran over to give his dad a high-five. Walker watched as Mace’s hard face softened into a smile as he thanked David for his exuberant cheering. Mace then walked over to his wife, Sylvie, planting a kiss on her lips as she beamed adoringly into his face.
Walker had seen that scene unfold before him numerous times, but it never failed to move him. He and Mace had connected once they were both assigned to CIA Special Operations. Mace was as hard, tough, dedicated, and as driven as any man he had ever met. Being with him during the process of building his business had been inspiring. Mace had never lost his edge but now managed to combine a loving family into the whole package.
David ran over to Walker and looked up with a huge smile on his face. “That was amazing, Walker. I didn’t think you had a chance to get that last shot!”
Ruffling David’s hair, he chuckled. “Your dad may have been Special Forces, but don’t ever doubt the prowess of a SEAL in the water.”
“I can’t wait till I can play with you all,” David exuded. “I’m going to be the best at kayabaskepolorestling!”
Walker and the others laughed at the name given to the LSI’s mashup game of kayaking, basketball, water polo, and wrestling.
His closest friend, Rank, made his way over to his wife, Helena. Picking her up with his wet body, he twirled her in a circle as she screamed and laughed. Walker shook his head at their display as well. Rank was another meticulous planner of missions, but from the moment Helena dropped into his world, he had not been the same. Still meticulous...but with less hard edge.
“Let’s eat!” Marge called out before swatting at her husband, Horace, who was first in line at the food table.
The others laughed and grabbed the heavy paper plates as they moved to the food. Marge and Horace Tiddle had been hired by Mace, but Walker could not imagine what all their job description would entail. Horace, a retired SEAL, tended the grounds around the compound, kept the vehicles in running condition, and their equipment and weapons in top shape.
Marge, a former CIA Op, retired from the field years ago but had developed a special relationship with Mace. She took care of the LSI building, cooked for the men, and was all around den mother.
Babs, another CIA Operative and badass that Mace had met, had no problem keeping up with the guys, but she chose not to work in the field. Mace understood and respected her reasons, and the others accepted her, grateful for what she brought to the team. She, along with Sylvie, managed the business end of Lighthouse Security Investigations. Petite, her hair was cut shoulder length, black with purple tips. Walking by her, Walker pretended to bump her out of the food line, earning a laugh and a shoulder punch. Stepping back to let her go first, he observed her eyes constantly drifting over to Drew and wondered when the fellow Keeper was ever going to realize Babs was sweet on him, no matter how hard she tried to keep her feelings from showing.
Shaking his head, he was glad romance was not a bug that had bitten him and did not plan on it happening. He loved the freedom of choosing any mission that Mace needed him to go on, not worrying about the quick planning needed or being encumbered by a relationship back home.
With Rank and Helena making eyes at each other in the line in front of him, he gave Rank a slight shove, saying, “Move the fuck on. You’re holding up the food.”
Before he had a chance to say anything, Mace cleared his throat loudly, reminding them that David was present.
“Dad,” David groaned. “Just because I hear curse words doesn’t mean I’m going to say them.”
“Sorry,” he grumbled, the tips of his ears burning hot. Another reason to not have a relationship or become a dad…I can’t say what I want when I want.
Soon the group had settled into lawn chairs scattered about the lush grass overlooking the ocean crashing on the rocks below. Behind them sat the white, red-roofed house next to the lighthouse. The lighthouse was no longer in use, and Mace had bought the entire acreage of land all around to ensure their privacy. Appearing as just a group of friends gathered for a meal, the outside world had no idea the hub of their compound had been built into the caves below.
With his belly full, he stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and let the August sun warm his body.
Bolting awake, Walker sat up in bed, his attention sharp as he searched for the reason why he awoke. There were no sounds to be heard, and his Spidey senses were not going off. Laying back down, he punched his pillow, willing sleep to come again.
As a SEAL, Walker learned to sleep in any environment. The cold, hard ground. The hot, desert sand. On a boat rocking wildly in the waves. An airplane during turbulence. And now that he was a civilian, he sometimes found the soft mattress on his king-sized bed to be a difficult place to sleep.
A strange uneasiness had filled him during the evening hours, and sleep had finally come after fitfully tossing from one side to the other. Some nights the dull ache in his lower back kept him from finding sleep. He had chafed at his forced retirement when his back could no longer handle the physical demands required by a SEAL. Medical retirement was much more prevalent than most people would ever imagine for SEALs, whose bodies had been pushed to their limits.
Now, he wondered if he would be able to go back to sleep. Eventually, he did but remained fitful during the night.
3
To beat the heat of the day, Julie and the girls spent the late afternoon at the hotel swimming pool. The water was clear, and the surrounding area, filled with palm trees and the sound of birds, was a bit of paradise. The thatched roofs of the bungalows and the terra-cotta tile roofs of the main hotel, lush green grass, and thick trees around continued the realization that they were in the tropics.
They were traveling at a less-crowded time of the year, but August made for a hot trip. Occasionally dipping into the water herself, Julie spent most of her time stretched out on a lawn chair, hoping her pale skin did not burn while keeping an eagle eye on the girls in the pool. The trip had been a dream come true, one that she never expected.
The Ancient History teacher at Belford Academy, the private high school in Florida where she worked, had made arrangements with Senator Daniels’ daughter and two of her friends to chaperone the two-week Mayan private tour. The week before departure, the teacher had to have an emergency appendectomy, and the entire trip was in peril.
When Senator Daniels appeared in Julie’s office, she was shocked when he proposed that she become the chaperone.
“But I don’t know anything about ancient history,” she protested. “I would be no better than the average tourist.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” he insisted. “It’s a private tour, so you won’t have to worry about being around a lot of other people. You will have the same tour guide for the entire two weeks, and I have vetted him and his company, assured that they are the best. My daughter adores you, and my wife and I feel that you would be the perfect chaperone.”
Before she had a chance to protest more, even though the idea of going on the trip was already sending excitement through her veins, the Senator continued his persuasion. She looked down at her planner, already knowing the summertime was not filled with places she had to be or things she had to do.
“The accommodations will be at the best resorts. All meals are included. Airfare is already arranged. And you know my daughter, Tiffany, and her friends, Andrea and Jackie. They’re mature, well behaved, and won’t give you any problems. We just need a responsible adult, someone we can trust explicitly, to accompany them.”
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br /> Her teeth nibbled on her bottom lip for just a moment, but she could not come up with a plausible reason for why she could not take the trip. Her lips begin to curve into a smile, and she burst out laughing as the Senator was already grinning while rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm.
“Wonderful!” he said. “Of course, you will be compensated for your time.”
Blinking with surprise, she protested, “That’s not necessary. Just being able to take this trip is payment enough!”
“Nonsense. For the two weeks that you will be on this trip, Mrs. Daniels and I will offer you a full month’s salary. We know it’s an imposition to ask this of you so close to the time of the trip. We want you to be able to purchase anything that you might need for the trip and to take care of anything you might need to, here at home, before you go.”
She had accepted his offer, and now, baking in the sun under the shade of a palm tree, she was so glad that she had. Never impulsive, she was stunned at how perfectly the trip was going. All three girls had finished their junior year of high school. Tiffany and Jackie were seventeen and Andrea was only a few months shy of her seventeenth birthday. They had proven to be the perfect traveling companions to chaperone. Mature, inquisitive, and extremely well behaved.
Glancing to the side, she observed several men with their eyes pinned to the three girls in the pool. She watched carefully, ready to pounce if any of them approached the teenagers, but she was pleased when they finally turned and went back to drinking at the bar.
“Girls,” she called out. Gaining their attention, she said, “It’s almost time for dinner.” The girls dutifully climbed out of the pool, their youthful, bikinied bodies once again capturing the attention of several of the men, but thankfully the girls were oblivious. Once more glad to not be in charge of flirtatious, oversexed teenagers always trying to slip out at night, she stood and sent a scathing glare toward the men as the girls dried off with their beach towels and slid on their coverups and flip-flops.
If Julie was hoping to cease the men’s attention, she only managed to have their gaze now slide over to her. Rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses, she turned and wrapped her towel around herself and walked with the girls toward their suite.
Dinner in the red-tiled dining room was not too crowded, and they were quickly served. The girls had grown used to drinking bottled water with every meal and had not complained about the cuisine during the entire trip. This particular restaurant included pizza and hamburgers on the menu besides their delicious Mexican food. She was glad the accommodations were such that she did not have to worry about any of the girls becoming sick.
Wandering musicians playing violins and guitars strolled amongst the tables. Glancing around, she saw several families and couples dining. One couple in particular, sitting at a corner table, stared into each other’s eyes. They could not have declared themselves honeymooners anymore if they had had a neon sign plastered over their heads.
For a moment she allowed herself the memory of her own honeymoon right after college. Not in a beautiful resort in a tropical country, but rather a weekend at a ski lodge in Pennsylvania. She had been young, in love, and determined that they would be together forever.
“Ms. Baxter?”
Hearing her name jerked her from wandering down memory lane, and she swung her gaze back to her own table companions. “Yes?”
“We were just finished and ready to head back to the room,” Tiffany said.
Embarrassed to have been caught with her mind wandering, she said, “Absolutely. It’s getting late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow.”
After dinner, Julie sat with the three girls in their large suite. Their accommodations throughout the tour had been wonderful, the private tour espousing the best hotels along the way. Pulling out her planner, she reviewed the notes she had made, inwardly glowing at the ruins they had visited so far. They had flown into Villahermosa, Mexico, and had toured Kolem Jaa, Palenque, Chicanná, Becán, Xpuhil, Calakmul, Uxmal, Kabáh, Mérida, and now Chichén Itzá. They had another day at Chichén Itzá before leaving for Tulum, and then on to a resort in Cancún, where they planned on a few restful days at the resort beach before flying back to Florida.
As with each evening, she asked, “What is your favorite so far?”
“I still like Palenque the best,” Jackie said emphatically. Sitting on the bed with her back against the pillows, she explained, “While everything has been beautiful, the jungles around those ruins were just… I don’t know, special, I guess.”
“It looked like something out of a movie,” Andrea added. “Today there were so many tourists around that I didn’t get the chance to just imagine that I was in a different time and place.”
Nodding, Julie said, “I think that’s one of the things we have learned about each other on this trip. We like to look at ancient ruins and try to imagine what it must’ve looked like when they were in their prime.”
“I thought the ones in the jungle looked more like something Lara Croft would have been discovering,” Tiffany said with a grin, sitting on the bed, rubbing lotion onto her legs and arms.
“Well, the day after tomorrow will be a little bit different,” Julie said, pulling the itinerary from her planner. She said, “We will head to Tulum and then spend the afternoon at the Akumal Ecological Center, where we will have a lecture on Sea Turtle conservation. “
Sitting up quickly, Jackie said, “Oh, that’s where we get to go out on a turtle rescue team, right?”
Nodding, Julie continued to read from the itinerary. “Tour members will be part of the night search, patrol, and rescue team.”
The three girls exuded excitement, and placing the itinerary back in the planner, Julie stood. “I’m heading to my room, so I’ll say goodnight. See you guys in the morning.”
With goodnights ringing in her ear, she moved into the next bedroom of their large suite. An hour later, sitting on the balcony, she sipped a glass of wine. The quiet from the other bedroom indicated the girls had finally gone to sleep. She could see the light show in the distance taking place at Chichén Itzá, something they had enjoyed the night before.
Her eyelids became heavy, and she slipped into her pajamas before sliding into bed. Sleep came easily as the overhead fan helped cool the room.
Julie’s eyes jerked open, uncertain what had woken her. She sat up quickly, cocking her head to the side as she listened. She could have sworn she heard a rumble in the distance, but as she sat there, all was quiet.
Wondering what she had dreamed, she climbed from the bed and walked to the small refrigerator in the room. Pulling out a bottle of water, she drank thirstily.
A strange uneasiness moved through her, but unable to discern the cause, she crawled back into bed she and pulled the sheet over her, willing sleep to come again.
4
Walker never set an alarm, relying on his internal alarm clock to always wake him at the right time. Climbing from bed, he headed to the shower, already anticipating the first cup of coffee of the day.
His apartment was old but comfortable. He did not like the large, open, industrial look of many of the newer apartments, preferring the wooden floors and exposed brick walls of his two-bedroom, third-floor apartment.
Padding into the updated kitchen that he enjoyed cooking in, he had barely poured his caffeine-hit when his phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, he answered, “Sarah. Why the hell are you up so early?”
“Mommy! Uncle Jimmy said a bad word!”
Dropping his chin to his chest, he shook his head. “Susie, why are you calling me this early in the morning? Put your mom on the phone.” He heard the jostling of the phone before his sister answered.
“Jimmy! Why are you saying a bad word to Susie?”
“I didn’t know it was Susie, now did I? My phone rings this early in the morning and the caller ID says it’s you, so pardon me for assuming it was you.”
Sarah huffed, “So you’d be cussing at me? And that makes it okay?”
Pinching the top of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he stared down at his cup of coffee, wondering if it was going to be enough for today. “Sorry, Sis. Let’s start over.” Clearing his throat, he grunted, “Good morning, Sarah. What can I do for you?”
She laughed, saying, “The words sound better, but you still sound like a big grump. You never were much of a morning person. Anyway, I wanted to remind you that today is Mom and Dad’s wedding anniversary. I know they’d love to get a call from you.”
As much as his older sister could be a thorn in his side, he appreciated that she kept him apprised of family dates that he would undoubtedly forget. She never made him feel guilty, understanding that his job sometimes made it difficult to remember those occasions. “Thanks, Sarah. You’re the best. I’ll make sure to give them a call later on today.” Getting ready to disconnect, he added, “Sorry about what I said to Susie. I’ll try to answer the phone a little nicer now that I know she’s old enough to place a call.”
His sister cackled then said she loved him before disconnecting. Taking a grateful sip of coffee, he added calling his parents to his mental list of things he needed to get done today. With a quick look at the clock on the stove, he poured his coffee into a travel mug and headed off to the compound.
Driving to the LSI compound, he reveled in the fact that he did not have to work in a corporate office. Nodding to Horace and Marge as he walked through the kitchen of the house, he hustled down a back hall toward the lighthouse. Turning to the wall, he opened a hidden panel, tapped in a security code, then stood for the retina scan. Next, he placed his finger on a finger scanner and waited while his digital prints were taken. A door swung open, and he moved through quickly, shutting it behind him.
Walker: Lighthouse Security Investigations Page 2
