moving,” Matt said, his eyes probing the shadowed corners of the room, behind the double sofas and the Queen Anne chairs.
The master bedroom. Adjoining bath with the largest tub he had ever seen. Walk-in closet.
Everything in place, neat as a pin. No sign of forced entry or other presence. Three guest bedrooms, two baths. A small office, undisturbed.
The tension in his neck eased as he let out a deep breath. “Looks like you two are the only ones I have to worry about tonight.”
The woman whirled around to face him. A streak of moonlight fell upon her face. She was pretty, or would be if her lips weren’t drawn tight with resolve. Right now, she looked like a mare ready to trample anyone or anything that ventured too near her newborn colt.
“Calm down, lady,” Matt said. “No use getting riled up.”
“Look, Mister—”
“Matt,” he reminded her. “Matt Lawson.”
“I don’t appreciate Sanctuary Island’s welcoming committee.”
Spunky, he’d give her that much. “Just doing my job.”
The woman’s anger dissipated ever so slightly. “Katherine is my husband’s aunt.”
Family? “Any way you can prove that? Photos maybe?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know where they’d be. Katherine moved here about eight months ago. We’ve never visited before.”
We? “You and your husband?”
She shook her head. “He…” She cleared her throat, pursed her lips, then swallowed. When she spoke, the words came out a whisper.
“My husband died a few months ago.”
Not what he expected. He looked at the boy. Either the kid was Academy Award material or the story was legit.
“How’d you get past the gate guard?” Matt asked.
She hesitated as if the question had caught her by surprise. “I didn’t see a gate.”
“At the turnoff from the Bay Road?”
She shook her head. “The storm…it was raining.”
“There’s only one way in.” Who had gate duty tonight? He tried to think. Sam Snyder. Of all the luck. Sam should have retired years ago. The old guy had probably fallen asleep in the guardhouse. But why had he left the gate open?
Once again, Matt yanked the radio off his belt, punched in a number and put the receiver to his ear. “Eunice, contact Jason. See if he can run by the guardhouse, check on Sam. And look up Ms. O’Connor’s paperwork. As I recall, she went to Ireland to help her sister-in-law.”
He glanced out the window while Eunice searched for the file.
“Here it is, Chief. Orlando to Dublin. Nonstop.” The dispatcher told him the arrival time.
“Any mention of a houseguest?”
“Not a word.”
“Contact the airport in Dublin. Leave instructions for her to call me ASAP.”
“Will do.”
He parked the radio back on his belt. Lydia Sloan’s story was probably legit, but Matt needed confirmation from Ms. O’Connor before he allowed the woman and her son access to the home.
Too bad Ms. O’Connor hadn’t noted the arrival of guests on the paperwork. Would have made it so much easier.
“Okay, ma’am. We’ll go over to my office and wait till we hear from Ms. O’Connor.”
She bit her lip, blinked and looked like a scared rabbit in a trap. “I…I don’t understand why that’s necessary.”
“Yes, ma’am. I hear you. But it’s policy here on the island.” He stretched out a hand. “Now, if you’ll pass me the key, we’ll lock this place up tight as a drum so no one else decides to visit.”
“It’s late.” She looked at her son, then back at Matt. “We’ve been on the road for a long time. It’s past his bedtime.”
He nodded. “I understand. But we’ll head to my office, in spite of the hour. Wait for that phone call.”
The woman stooped down to the boy’s level. She tried to smile, made her voice sound almost lighthearted. “Okay, Tyler, we have to go with the security man.”
“Can I get my Action-Pac?”
She glanced up at Matt. “It’s a computerized game. It should be in the front seat of my SUV.”
Matt nodded. “That’ll be all right.”
He locked the door as they left and tried it once to ensure it held tight. Moonlight cascaded down the driveway. Maybe the storm had finally passed.
Tyler climbed into the SUV and retrieved a small electronic toy.
“Bring something to read,” Lydia said. “We may have to wait awhile.”
A school backpack lay on the seat. Tyler rummaged through it, then pulled out a book.
Matt watched the boy.
Other than the schoolbag, the car sat empty.
Why would a woman and her son, who claimed to be houseguests, arrive late at night with only the clothes on their backs?
Matt shook his head. It was going to be a long night.
Lydia sat next to Tyler in the front seat of the security chief’s pickup. The road stretched before them dark and desolate. The truck’s headlights cut a path through the night, exposing a roadway strewn with twigs and branches the storm had ripped from the tall pine trees.
Maybe coming to Sanctuary had been a mistake. She’d made too many already. Sonny, their marriage, believing God could turn bad times good….
Nothing had worked out the way she planned. She was too naive. Stupid, Sonny would have called it. But the fact was, she had trusted her husband. And she’d been hurt because of it. Worse than that, Tyler had been hurt.
Seeing her son’s pain was a hundred times worse than enduring it herself. No child should have to worry about someone grabbing him in the school parking lot or whether his mother would be the next to die.
She wrapped her arm around her son, pulled him close, then allowed herself to glance at the security man. The glow from the dashboard lights played across his long legs and muscular body.
She hoped to find a bit of softness in his angular face, but all she saw was determination. The guy was one hundred percent business with deep-set eyes that bore into her like a hot poker whenever he looked her way.
As
