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She yanked the closet door open and pulled out the blouse and skirt she’d worn the night before. Slipping them on, she made her way barefoot toward the living room.
Tyler stood in the doorway of the guest room, dressed in the G.I. Joe briefs and T-shirt he’d slept in. He rubbed his eyes.
“Who’s at the door?” he asked between yawns.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to find out.” She strode past him, working to control the fear prickling her spine. Surely, no one from Atlanta could have tracked them down in the short time they’d been on the island. Maybe that nosy security chief wanted more information.
Stretching on tiptoe, she peered through the door’s tiny peephole. The distorted face of a high schooler, probably sixteen or seventeen, filled the glass circle.
Mustering her sternest voice, she demanded, “Who’s there?”
“James, from The Country Store. Ms. O’Connor called in a delivery long-distance. Said I was to get everything here by eleven. The storm washed out one of the roads. Had to take a detour.”
Lydia unlocked the door, inched it open and glanced first at The Country Store scripted on the truck’s side panel and then at the same logo stitched on the youth’s polo. She let out a sigh of relief and opened the door wider.
The kid nodded toward the large cardboard box in his arms. “Ms. O’Connor said to send over everything a boy age six might need. I’ve got a box filled with ladies’ things and another one with odds and ends in the truck.”
He dropped the first box inside the door and scrambled down the steps to the delivery truck, where he grabbed two more boxes and deposited them one on top of the other in the entryway.
Lydia reached for her purse. “How much do I owe you?”
“Ms. O’Connor took care of it, ma’am.” He climbed into his truck and waved as he backed out of the driveway.
Before Lydia could close the door, a second van pulled up to the house and an equally enthusiastic teen bounded toward the porch, carrying two large grocery bags.
“Harry’s Market. More groceries in the truck.”
Resigning herself to accepting Katherine’s generosity, Lydia pointed the boy in the direction of the kitchen and watched as he hauled the bags into the house.
“Be happy to unpack the groceries, if you need help.” He placed the last sack on the counter.
“Thanks, that’s not necessary.” Lydia dug in her handbag and pulled out a few dollar bills.
The teen walked back to where she stood by the door and accepted the tip.
Shoving the money into his pocket, he said, “You’re from Fulton County. Atlanta, right?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“Saw license plates just like yours this morning.” The kid shook his head. “Stupid Mercedes almost ran me off the road.”
The hair rose on the back of Lydia’s neck. “What…what color?”
“Black.”
She stiffened. Not the car from Atlanta?
“Probably tourists in a hurry to get to the beach,” a voice said behind her. Lydia turned to see Matt Lawson leaning against the front porch railing.
“Morning, ma’am.” He pulled the baseball cap with the Sanctuary logo off his head and wrapped a tight smile around his broad face. From the looks of his rumpled khaki pants and navy polo, he, too, appeared to be wearing the same clothes he’d worn the night before.
Lydia noticed the creases at the corner of his eyes, more pronounced in the light of day. Although clean shaven, his face was drawn with fatigue. No doubt the chief had not enjoyed the luxury of even a few hours of sleep.
“Hey, Mr. Lawson.” The delivery boy acknowledged Matt with a nod. “Heard there was another break-in last night on the mainland.”
“I’m sure Sheriff Turner’s on top of it, Blake.”
“Harry said no one local would do such a thing.” The teen turned toward the delivery van. “‘Probably dock riffraff, pure and simple.’ That’s what Harry said.”
“We’ll let the sheriff handle the case, Blake.”
The kid opened the driver’s door, then glanced back, a chagrined expression on his face. “Yes, sir.”
“He’ll let us know when he uncovers something. ’Till then, you keep your mind on your business and not the sheriff’s. Hear me? And I want to see you at church tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.” Blake climbed into the van, started the engine and pulled out of the drive.
Lydia stood in the open doorway and glanced down at her bare feet. Her cheeks warmed with a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. Once again, the chief had caught her by surprise.
Why did that bother her?
Probably because she was out of her element and scared to death every time she thought of how close her son had come to being kidnapped—by someone in a black Mercedes. The delivery boy had seen the same make of car, not the same car.
Get a grip, Lydia.
She looked up to find the security chief staring at her.
“More questions, Mr. Lawson?” Her voice carried more than a hint of disapproval. “I suppose Katherine called you this morning. She probably told you to make amends.”
He shook his head. “Haven’t heard from Ms. O’Connor today. And I was doing my job last night.”
“Of course you were.” She let out a deep breath, fatigue skewing her good judgment. She was taking out her frustration with Atlanta’s dirty cops on a guy who managed security systems and island gate guards.
“Look, I’m sorry. It was a long night, and I doubt either of us got much sleep. Why don’t we start over?” She stuck out her right hand. “Lydia Sloan.”
He eyed her for a moment before he took her hand and held it as if not quite sure how to follow her lead. “Pleased to meet you, Lydia,” he finally said.
Their hands remained clasped for several seconds. His eyes never wavered from hers.
Self-conscious, Lydia withdrew from his grasp.
“Seems Katherine was afraid we’d either go naked or starve to death.” She pointed to the bags and boxes the teens had delivered. “Bet I can find some coffee in one of these sacks, if you’d like a cup.”
“Mind if I take a rain check? I’ve got a couple more things to do before I call it a day.”
Lydia tilted her head. “No rest for the wicked, eh?”
The chief shifted his gaze as Tyler stepped from the hallway and ran to her side.
“Hey there, buddy. How’s it going?”
The boy hugged Lydia’s leg and shrugged.
Matt smiled, then looked back at Lydia. “There’s a community beach not far from here. Safest place to swim on the island.”
He pointed toward the large picture windows. Lydia glanced through the glass at the jagged boulders and the ocean beyond.
“Don’t know if Ms. O’Connor told you. The water’s pretty treacherous in this stretch of the beach. Rocks look peaceful enough, but they’re riddled with caves. Easy to get trapped. Tide comes in and they flood out. Rip currents are always a problem.”
He glanced at Tyler. “You hear that? Don’t play on the boulders. And no swimming unless you’re at the community beach.”
Lydia watched her son’s eyes widen. She didn’t want anything else to frighten him. “We don’t swim, Mr. Lawson. It won’t be a problem.”
Matt pursed his lips, then looked back at Lydia. “The Community Church is holding a sand castle contest for the kids at eleven tomorrow. After the morning service. Why don’t you meet me at nine for worship. We can go to the contest afterward.” He winked at Tyler. “Bet you’re strong enough to build a great moat.”
Tyler nodded. “I am strong.” He drew in a deep breath and stuck out his chest as if trying to prove he was up to the task.
“Bring a bathing suit, and I’ll give you a few swimming lessons after the contest’s over,” Matt continued.
Was the man hard of hearing? “Mr. Lawson—”
“It’s Matt.” His dark eyes flashed a no-nonsense look that she was sure could intimidate the most hardened of criminals. Well, it wasn’t going to have an effect on her.
Tyler tugged on her arm. “Can we go, Mom?”
“Not to church, honey.”
“You could meet me at the park,” Matt suggested.
That was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t want to disappoint Tyler. A little fun in the sun sounded like what her son needed. What could it hurt?
Plus, she might run into the photographer. She had a few questions that needed to be answered. Had her husband been on the island? And if so, what had brought him to Sanctuary?
Lydia nodded to the chief. “I guess we’ll see you about eleven.”
Tyler would have a good time, but she’d keep her guard up when it came to Matt Lawson. Law enforcement wasn’t to be trusted. That included the security chief.
“Hey, Chief Lawson,” the kids called from the picnic area as Matt pulled his pickup into the parking lot the following day.
Six boys, five girls, with probably more petty cash at their disposal than Matt had in his savings. Good kids who could use a little more attention from their jet-set parents. That’s why he worked with the church to organize activities. He knew firsthand the change a good role model could make in a kid’s life. Not that his family was rich. Far from it. But he’d been on a fast track to nowhere until his church youth director showed Matt the positive impact of putting Christian love into action.
Now, it was payback time.
Plus, he liked kids.
“Savannah and Mark, you team up with Josh. Spread out to the left on the sand.” He outlined the spots two more groups would use before he pulled aside the boys he wanted to match up with Tyler.
“You guys ready to build a sand castle?”
They both nodded.
“I’ll give you a hand until your teammate arrives. His name’s Tyler. He’s new on the island, staying at Ms. O’Connor’s house.” Matt tossed each of the boys a plastic shovel and drew a circle in the sand, outlining the moat. Dropping to his knees next to the boys, he began to dig.
Every few minutes, Matt eyed the road for passing cars.
Where were they? He’d given Lydia directions. Surely she couldn’t be lost. The main road ran north and south along the water. No one could miss the beach. Maybe he’d placed too much confidence in her rather hesitant agreement to meet him at the park.
Lydia tried to put up a good front, but under the surface, she acted like a skittish colt. Something had her spooked big-time. But what?
The kids worked hard, intent on the task at hand. A breeze blew from the water and sea gulls called from overhead. All in all the activity was going well.
So why was he letting a stranger sour his mood? This time, he’d make sure a pretty face didn’t lull him off course.
“I thought you wanted me to build the moat,” a voice said behind him.
Matt turned to see Tyler standing back from the group, head drooped almost to his chest. Lydia stood next to the child, her arms filled with beach towels.
“Hey, Tyler, I was just helping out until you and your mom arrived. I told the other guys you’d be here soon.”
Matt pointed to a boy with red hair and a face full of freckles. “This is Bobby Jackson.” He indicated a pudgy boy with a gelled flattop. “And Chase Davenport. Bobby lives next to your great aunt and Chase is two doors down. I thought since you guys are neighbors, it’d be nice for you to work together on the castle.”
Bobby handed Tyler a plastic shovel. “You can use this.”
“Thanks.” Tyler took the shovel and began deepening the moat.
Matt brushed the sand from his hands and knees, nodding to Lydia. “Have any trouble finding us?”
“No problem. We stopped at the library first.”
Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, tied with a red ribbon that matched the red shorts and polka-dot blouse she wore. She looked fresh and clean and smelled much sweeter than the kids playing in the sand.
“I wasn’t sure we should do this, but—” she glanced at her son “—Tyler really wanted to be here.”
“I’m glad you came,” Matt said. “Otherwise, I’d be one kid short.” He held out his hand for a beach towel. “Need some help?”
“Thanks.” She handed him a green towel with pink stripes.
He spread it out not far from where Tyler’s team worked, totally absorbed in their project. Lydia sat down.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“Tyler won’t mind if you use his towel.” She handed him another one, which he spread on the sand.
“You must have left Atlanta in a hurry.” Matt tried to sound nonchalant, fishing to catch a tidbit of information.
Lydia shrugged. “A spur-of-the-moment invitation. Katherine thought Tyler and I could use a vacation.”
“The woman’s got a big heart.”
