Nowhere to Hide

by Debby Giusti

  Lydia shook her head. Why did women allow themselves to be exploited? For money? Did they have children to raise and no other way to make a living?

  Lydia had cleaned houses when she and Sonny were first married and needed to pay the bills. Not a glamorous job, but honest work.

  Ruby supported her mother and handicapped sister on her paycheck. Her earnings provided the medical treatment Charise needed.

  At least Ruby was getting out. Determined to start fresh. She told Lydia, she had made her peace with God. That’s what Lydia wanted—a new start. The God part was negotiable.

  First, she had to find the evidence her husband had gathered. Sonny told her he was working for an entertainment company, representing a number of restaurant chains in the Southeast. She never saw the site, never questioned his work.

  The money was good—too good. That should have been a warning.

  After his death, she learned the club had ties with drugs and pornography, even money laundering and gambling. Ruby explained about the back rooms and secret hideaways where anything could be bought for a price. Sonny had seen it all, including the influential people who regularly used the club’s special services.

  And it had gotten him killed.

  Lydia picked up the phone and dialed Ruby’s number. Her shift started at 9:00 p.m. More than likely, she’d still be home this early in the evening.

  “Yeah?” Ruby answered on the second ring.

  “Can you talk?”

  “Let me close the bedroom door.” Ruby returned a few seconds later. “You took your sweet time to call back.”

  “Guess I was trying to ignore a bad situation,” Lydia said.

  “I hear ya. Same as me. Spent too much of my life hopin’ things would get better. Finally, realized I had to be the one to make a change.”

  “Did you see the files?”

  “That doorman I told you about looked the other way while I did the search. Everything’s been wiped clean.”

  Lydia’s shoulders slumped.

  “But guess who I saw in one of the back rooms ’bout a week ago?”

  Before Lydia could answer, Ruby continued, “One of Atlanta’s finest.”

  “Police?”

  “You got that right. He’s takin’ full advantage of the Velvet Room. Reserved for the top dogs. All specialty jobs with the blond, blue-eyed beauties. Usually reserved for the high rollers. Only this time it’s a guy from Vice.”

  “You recognized him?”

  “A girlfriend did. He was a thorn in her side years ago when she was turnin’ tricks down on Stewart Avenue. Said he’s got a mean streak a mile long. According to her, he left Atlanta a few years ago. Moved south. Only now he’s back, wearing a five-hundred-dollar suit and getting the full Monty, if you know what I mean.”

  Lydia thought of the A.P. digital the man in the photo had worn. “Did you happen to notice if he was wearing a watch?”

  “A gold Rolex worth more that I’ll make in a lifetime.”

  “Did he see you, Ruby?”

  “Not that I know of. Still I’m clearin’ out. Mama and Charise think we’re gonna visit relatives. Only we’re not stoppin’ until we’re far, far away.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Don’t worry about us. We’ll make it. Just be sure you don’t end up like Sonny. You and that boy of yours. Stay away from Atlanta. Leastways till all this blows over. You don’t want to be messin’ with this cop. From what my friend said, he’s one bad dude.”

  “What’s his name?” Lydia asked.

  “Hmm? Let me think. Something like Saharis, Polaris,” Ruby said. “I don’t remember exactly. Maybe Farris.”

  FOURTEEN

  “Time for a break,” Matt said to Tyler the next day at the beach. The two of them had been hard at work on the Australian crawl. “Get a drink and take a rest on shore.”

  “Hey, Mom.” Tyler waved to Lydia as he lumbered toward the blanket where she sat. “Chief says I need a break.”

  She held out a juice box and a bag of trail mix. “Here’s a snack.”

  He sank to the blanket, wiped his face on his A.P. towel, then reached for the juice and dried fruit and smiled with appreciation.

  Lydia rose and walked to the water’s edge where Matt stood. She raised her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday, Matt.”

  “You apologized when I picked you up today, Lydia.”

  “It’s just that Tyler’s had so much loss in his life. You mean a lot to him. I don’t want him to be hurt again.”

  Matt’s voice was sincere. “That’s the last thing I’d want. You had every right to be upset. But I promise, I’ll teach Tyler to swim before I leave.”

  “He loves the water.”

  “Maybe something his mother should try?” Matt held out his hand. “Let’s give it a whirl.”

  She looked into Matt’s eyes. He was leaving in two weeks, but this was today. No reason to worry about tomorrow.

  Placing her hand in his, Lydia stepped into the water. The waves washed around her, and she giggled with exhilaration. With Matt at her side, she felt safe and secure.

  Cupping his hand around his mouth, Matt shouted to shore. “Tyler, watch your mom. She’ll be floating in no time.”

  Her son gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Male conspiracy,” she groaned, sending Matt a frosty glare. “Don’t let me go under.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Reaching for her shoulders, he gently nudged her into the water, supporting her with his hands.

  She looked up and saw the blue sky and the fluffy clouds and Matt’s handsome face smiling down at her, his eyes encouraging.

  Her arms billowed out to her sides, buoyed by the saltwater. The natural movement of the ocean lulled her into a peaceful rhythm.

  She was weightless, totally relaxed.

  Matt’s fingers rubbed across her back, then—

  “Matt!”

  He let go.

  She jerked forward, tried to right herself and went under. The water swirled around her. She struggled to find her footing, sank deeper, her arms flailing.

  Matt grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up.

  Salt burned her eyes and throat. Streams of water ran down her cheeks. Her wet hair lay plastered around her face.

  “I didn’t…” She coughed. “I didn’t want to go under.”

  “You were floating, Lydia.”

  “But—”

  “Shush. No buts. You were floating by yourself, pure and simple.”

  She looked at the water, then the shore where Tyler played in the sand and back at Matt’s face filled with pride at her accomplishment. Pushing her hair back, she pouted for a moment.

  “My face got wet.”

  “Lydia—”

  Before he could finish the statement, the waves forced them together.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said.

  A warm glow wrapped around her.

  Matt stepped even closer. “Lydia, I—”

  “Mom!” Tyler called from shore.

  She pulled her gaze from Matt.

  “Way to go, Mom!”

  Matt let out a deep breath and stepped back. “Guess that wraps it up for today.”

  For the first time in her life, Lydia didn’t want to get out of the water, but as Matt stepped toward shore, she followed. Both of them walked in silence until the sound of an approaching car caused them to turn.

  “What the—” Matt groused.

  Black car, tinted windows.

  Lydia ran to Tyler and pulled him into her arms.

  “What’s wrong?” He tried to wiggle out of her embrace.

  “Hey!” Matt yelled at the driver.

  The car braked to a stop and the door swung open.

  “The association passed an ordinance against driving on the beach,” Matt said between clinched teeth.

  Joel stepped onto the sand, his eyes flashed in defiance. “Don’t give me that,
Lawson. Security vehicles always patrol this area.”

  “Police and security have access. Private vehicles aren’t allowed.”

  Joel shrugged. “Guess I’m ignorant of the rules.”

  “Ignorant, all right. Next time, it’s a five-hundred-dollar fine.”

  “Like I care. I’ve tipped people that much,” Joel replied.

  Matt lowered his voice and stepped closer. “I can raise the amount, if you like.”

  Joel’s eyes narrowed, but he climbed into his car and waved to Lydia before he closed the door.

  She didn’t respond. Her heart was lodged in her throat. She couldn’t get past the memory of the school yard in Atlanta.

  Releasing her hold on Tyler, she said, “Pick up your things, honey. We’re going home.”

  “Mr. Cowan’s not the bad guy, Mom.”

  “You never know,” Matt said, watching Joel’s car disappear from sight. “Some people aren’t who they seem.”

  FIFTEEN

  The swimming lessons continued over the next few days. Tyler took to the water as if he’d been swimming his whole life. Lydia progressed more slowly.

  She knew time was running out. Matt was leaving Sanctuary and Katherine would soon return home from Ireland.

  Lydia needed access to a better computer than the models at the library. Plus, the stuffy librarian’s body language made it clear Lydia had worn out her welcome. Which left her no choice but to turn to Matt for help.

  Lydia dropped Tyler at the Jackson’s home and then steered her SUV along Cove Road. Matt was tied up at the courthouse with the arraignment of the man arrested for the mainland break-ins. When Lydia asked if she could use Matt’s computer to contact old friends in Atlanta, he had gladly agreed and had given her a key.

  She turned into the parking lot, grateful no other cars were in sight and checked her watch: one-thirty. Bobby’s dad was taking the boys to the movies on the mainland. Tyler would be gone for almost three hours. Hopefully, enough time to find clues Sonny might have left on the Web site.

  Stepping into Matt’s office, Lydia spied the photo of the small boy. Intrigued, she removed the frame from the wall and turned it over.

  To Matt, from your favorite catcher, the inscription read. Enrico Rodriquez was scribbled in a childish script.

  Matt’s partner’s son. Lydia could imagine the guilt Matt carried. He blamed himself for his partner’s death and for a little boy losing his father.

  Tyler had struggled with the pain and confusion surrounding Sonny’s death. Seeing her son’s grief had torn her apart. Maybe she and Matt shared that in common.

  She returned the photo.

  As she moved to the desk, her finger trailed over the bookcase where criminal justice texts filled the shelves. His Bible sat on the edge of his desk. She touched the worn leather briefly before she slipped into Matt’s desk chair, tapped Enter to delete the screen saver and double clicked on Internet Explorer. Keying in the Men’s Club URL, she hit Search and waited for the home page to appear.

  The club’s logo twirled in the top right-hand corner. A menu scrolled across the bottom. Lydia clicked on the virtual tour and waited as the photos unrolled. A pouting redhead led the parade, followed by a plus-sized blonde and an Asian-American with cocoa skin and almond eyes.

  The women’s suggestive poses sickened Lydia. She looked away. She’d seen enough to last a lifetime.

  Despite the unpleasant subject matter, she had to study the frames for clues and forced her eyes back to the monitor.

  Lydia’s senses hardened to the scenes appearing one after another. Intent on finding clues, she didn’t have time to be angry or offended. For all his faults, Sonny was a genius when it came to computers. If he had hidden evidence on the Web site, Lydia needed to find it.

  After filtering through a dozen series of photos, she glanced at the clock: three-fifteen.

  “New” flashed in bold fluorescent neon. She double clicked.

  “How’s it going?” Matt’s voice startled her.

  Lydia looked up to see him standing in the doorway, the computer screen hidden from his view. She pushed the escape button as he stepped into the room.

  Her heart caught in her throat. She tried to smile but her face froze.

  He rounded the desk just as the Web site closed.

  Lydia’s cheeks burned, her throat dry as the Mojave Desert. “Finished,” she managed to mumble, rising from the chair. “How was the court hearing?”

  “The judge ruled there was enough evidence for a trial.” He glanced down at the monitor. “E-mail work okay?”

  “Perfect. Thanks for letting me use your computer. In fact, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? That’s the least I can do after you’ve been so kind.”

  “Sounds great.”

  The office door opened, and a tall young man stepped inside.

  “Lydia, I don’t think you’ve met Jason Everett, a member of the security team.”

  Jason stuck out his right hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  She returned the handshake.

  The door opened again. This time a young woman, early twenties and very pregnant, stepped inside.

  “Natalie? What are you doing here?” Jason asked, seemingly flustered.

  The girl had big eyes and a sweet smile, and from the look on her face, she wished she had something to do with her hands instead of wrapping them around her protruding midriff.

  “Looking for my dad. He said he’d come back to the office after that court case. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.”

  She glanced around the room. “Has he been here?”

  “The mainland sheriff wanted to see him.” Matt stretched out his hand. “I’m Chief Lawson. We met some time ago.”

  She returned the handshake. “I remember. When Jason and I were going out.”

  Lydia picked up on the past tense. So the mother-to-be and Jason were no longer an item.

  “And this is Lydia Sloan. She’s new to Sanctuary.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Natalie said.

  Lydia noticed her bare left hand.

  “When’s your baby due?” Small talk might help to calm the girl’s nervousness.

  “Another month.”

  “Have you decided on any names?”

  “The doctor thinks it’s a boy, but the sonogram was kind of fuzzy. I planned on calling him William after my stepdad, but…” She hung her head for a minute and studied the floor.

  “Now that my real dad’s back in my life, I’m thinking about Eddie. Edward’s his name. ’Course everyone always calls him Butch.”

  “You and your dad doing okay?” Jason asked, concern evident in his voice.

  The girl nodded. “Kind of awkward at first. You know what I mean?” She glanced at Lydia who smiled to encourage her.

  “Dad and I hadn’t seen each other in years. I wouldn’t say things are good, but they’re getting better.” She looked back at Jason. “He likes working with you.”

  The kid shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’ve teamed up on a few patrols.”

  “Guess I shouldn’t have said the things I did about him when we were in high school.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Tough not having a dad,” Natalie said.

  Was she speaking for herself or her unborn child? Either way, the girl’s situation touched Lydia.

  “I better head back to the mainland,” Natalie said. “Tell Butch I stopped by.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.” Jason held the door and followed her outside.

  “I’m afraid Jason’s still carrying a torch for that little honey,” Matt said after they left the room.

  “My guess is she feels the same about him.”

  Matt raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

  “Pretty evident from what I saw. So who’s the baby’s father?”

  “Some guy who skipped town.”

  “Not Jason?”

  “If Jason is the father, he do
esn’t have a clue,” Matt said.

  Lydia sighed. “And people say there’s nothing like young love.”

  “Makes me glad I’m older.”

  The look Matt gave her made Lydia catch her breath. She pulled her eyes away and glanced at her watch. “Tyler’ll be home soon. Give me an hour to get dinner ready.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and waved goodbye.

  Matt had a point about young love. Look where it had gotten her—married to Sonny, who left her running from a faceless threat.

  Maybe Matt leaving Sanctuary would be good for both of them. She couldn’t change the fact that she was beginning to care about a man who watched over her and Tyler, taught them to swim and turned her insides to jelly. If he stayed, he might end up in danger just by knowing her.

  One thing for sure, she didn’t want anything to happen to Matt.

  SIXTEEN

  After sending Tyler outside to burn off some energy, Lydia worked quickly and soon had everything ready for Matt’s arrival. With twenty minutes to spare, she raced into Katherine’s bedroom, stroked blush over her cheeks and applied a fresh coat of lipstick.

  She was wearing the same sundress she’d worn to Matt’s office. The crisp cotton held its shape, and she didn’t have time to iron anything else. Besides, Matt was coming for dinner and a relaxing evening. No reason to read any more into her invitation or his acceptance. Still, it felt good to primp a little. She spritzed a floral body spray along her arms and winked at the reflection staring approvingly back at her from the mirror.

  On her way to the kitchen, Lydia noticed the sliding-glass door partially open. Tyler must have forgotten to pull it closed.

  She stuck her head outside and called, “Come in and wash your hands and face, honey. Chief Lawson will be here in a few minutes.”

  She looked around the backyard.

  “Tyler?”

  Stepping onto the deck, her eyes roamed the wooded area that edged the house.

  “Where are you, Tyler?”

  He knew his boundaries—the deck and yard. No farther. A thread of fear raced along her veins. Where was her son?