Nowhere to Hide (Delos Series Book 1) Read online

  Even Tanner and his men looked long and hard at her face, and she believed they had a harsh reaction to what they saw. But Cav had never looked at her like they did.

  She walked in front of him and he opened the van door. Climbing in, she felt exhaustion winnow through her, and she leaned back against the headrest, closing her eyes. Then, the driver’s side door opened and she instantly felt Cav’s quiet, powerful presence. She sighed.

  “Did you put your seat belt on?” he asked solicitously.

  “Oh…” and she sat up, frowning. “I forgot…”

  “You’re whipped,” he said, putting the van in gear as Tanner’s SUV slowly moved out. “The resort isn’t far from here. Too bad you can’t get a quick nap.”

  Touched by his concern, she glanced over at Cav. He still had his dark glasses on, so she couldn’t see his beautiful eyes in their shades of green, gold and umber. “Me, too. I’ll get it tonight.”

  “What else do you have to do after dinner?”

  “Robert and Dilara want me to join them for a last meeting at the resort to iron out all the details.”

  Scowling, Cav muttered, “Don’t they realize how beat you are? They didn’t go through a life-and-death situation five days ago.” He was feeling damned protective of her. “Can’t they schedule this meeting for tomorrow morning or something? Give you some time to rest?” He felt irritable, acting more like a mother hen toward Lia than a bodyguard. His was not to question. And he was and dammit, he couldn’t help but become protective of her under the circumstances.

  “I agree,” she said, smiling faintly. “But Robert is leaving after the meeting for San José, and Dilara will stay here with me for the next few days, helping me sort out everything. She’ll make sure I have enough people to help me pull this schooling off.”

  “Robert’s a busy man.”

  “So is Dilara. But she wants to meet the new teachers who are coming up two days from now.”

  “And it all falls on your shoulders,” he said, turning onto the major asphalt road that led in a north-westerly direction away from La Fortuna. Very soon, the armada was entering thick jungle that hugged both sides of the road. Traffic was dense and Cav knew there were almost forty resorts in this area.

  “Hey,” she said, patting her shoulders. “I was born with a strong set of these.”

  “So was I, but it’s damned nice sometimes to shuck the load and just rest for a while,” he told her.

  Lia felt his warm energy surrounding her, infusing her with his strength. Cav really cared. “Do all contractors care like you do?”

  Cav cocked his head, slanting a glance her way for a second. “What?”

  Opening her hands, she said, “Your concern is really evident. It feels real. I was just wondering if part of your job is to do this, to make me feel good even though I’m exhausted.”

  His hands gripped the wheel a little tighter as he crafted his answer. “Every contractor is different, Lia. Yes, there are security procedures we all follow, but I guess the personality of the individual contractor plays a big part.”

  In his case, it was a lot more. Cav knew he didn’t dare reveal his personal interest in Lia. That would be the end of his PSD and General Culver would haul his ass out of here so fast it would make him dizzy.

  Worse, Lia had so much on her plate, dealing with the shock of the attack, the loss of two good friends, that he needed to keep her stable, not add to her stress.

  Hell, he didn’t even know if she had a special someone in her life. Cav had to think she did, and he needed to find out sooner or later. Preferably, sooner.

  “Well, I like your style of PSD,” she murmured, giving him a shy look. “You must have been the oldest in your family, taking care of your other siblings.”

  “I was an only kid, like you,” he murmured, not wanting to go there. “Sorry, but I can’t talk personally right now,” he apologized, lessening the harshness of his tone.

  “Sure, I understand.” And she did.

  Two miles away, the resort of La Orquídea sat on a small hill, the jungle cut away from its white, gleaming walls in the low western sun’s rays. It was a huge resort, and soon the convoy was inside the black, wrought iron fence that surrounded it. He saw a lot of tourists, children and a number of two and three-story buildings. Tanner pulled up in front of a set of buildings near the edge of the huge, bustling complex.

  As he parked and got out, Lia dutifully remained in the van, waiting while Cav walked around to her door. Little did she know he had only one wish: To get her safely home for some well-earned rest.

  CHAPTER 7

  Lia felt like as if she were going to fall over from exhaustion as Cav opened the door to her house. It was nearly dark, and they could hear the hooting of the monkeys nearby. The last of the tropical birds were sending out a final song as she stumbled into the living room.

  Cav closed the door and waited there, girding himself for whatever reaction Lia would have to him staying in this house with her. He’d been trying to broach the topic off and on all day, but there was never time for him to pull her aside and tell her about it. She looked fragile, with dark shadows beneath her gray eyes. Lia plopped down on the couch opposite the door, pulled off her sandals and lifted her left foot, rubbing her toes gently.

  “Listen,” he said, remaining near the door, “you need to know that I’ll be staying with you in this house every night from now on, Lia.”

  Frowning, Lia stopped rubbing her aching toes. “What?”

  Cav gestured around. “Just tell me where I can sleep. I’ll try to stay out of your way. My job is to ensure no one comes in either door to get to you.”

  Her eyes widened, her heart slamming downward as she digested his words. “You’re staying HERE?” For whatever reason, Lia thought he’d be staying somewhere else. Then, her pulse ratcheted up as she studied him. “Are you serious, Cav?” While a part of her was actually thrilled with the idea, a bigger part was in panic mode.

  What about her weekly nightmares? She had them at least twice a week, and her terrified screams would scare him to death. Worse, she’d be humiliated.

  Lia felt him tense, anticipating her resistance.

  “I’m dead serious,” Cav assured her. “I was given this detail to shadow you, Lia, remember? I told you all about it on the drive up here earlier.”

  “But,” she said, collapsing back into the couch, “I thought…well I didn’t know it meant you were staying here, in my house…” and her voice trailed off.

  Cav shrugged and looked around. “It means exactly that. General Culver wants me close to you at all times, since Medina probably has a hit out on you.”

  And he’d make sure she’d stay safe, no matter what happened. Lia considered her situation, and said haltingly, “But this house is very small for two people.”

  “Hey, the couch looks good to me.” Cav pulled off his jacket, removed the pistol out from behind his back and set it on a small desk near the door.

  Lia’s weary face betrayed her inability to deal with her situation right now. The truth was, a killer was hunting her, and Cav didn’t want to emphasize that point tonight. Both of them needed rest.

  “Look,” he said, keeping his voice low, “this can work. You just go about your normal routine and I’ll make a point of staying out of the way. I’ll take this couch if that’s okay with you. How many bathrooms do you have?”

  “One,” she muttered unhappily.

  “Okay, no problem.” Cav looked to the left towards the kitchen, with its small, round table flanked by two chairs. “I need to case this place and check for bugs.”

  Too tired to argue, Lia nodded wearily. “Will it take long?”

  “No,” he promised. “I’m quick.”

  Lia watched him walk toward the kitchen, checking the window, opening and then closing and locking it. He disappeared into her bedroom, and she grimaced. Her bed was a mess and she hadn’t made it in days. He probably thought she was a slob. That wasn’t like her, but
the last five days had been chaotic.

  Cav walked soundlessly, despite his height and bulk, through the kitchen and down the hall, testing the rear door. Within five minutes, he’d cased the place and returned to the living room. He took the gray, overstuffed chair opposite the couch.

  “No bugs,” he reported. “Do you have air conditioning?”

  “Yes,” she pointed to the wall. “There.”

  “You don’t run it unless you’re home, do you?”

  “Right. Electricity is expensive here.”

  “What do you want it set at?”

  “65 degrees. Does that work for you?”

  He nodded. “That works,” he said, rising and setting the thermostat and turning it on.

  “I’m so tired my words are slurring,” Lia admitted, slowly rising. “I’m going to turn in.”

  “Go ahead,” Cav urged. “I’ll stay out here until you’re in bed.”

  Lia hesitated at the entrance to the kitchen. “I have to keep my bedroom door open or I won’t get any cool air in there.”

  “That’s fine,” Cav said. Lia looked haunted, the skin across her cheeks taut, eyes closing from exhaustion.

  “There’s an extra pillow and sheets in the linen closet near the back door. Help yourself.” Because she was so tired, she felt emotionally numb. She’d felt this way since the attack, and for a split second, she almost blurted, Stay with me. Hold me. Make my nightmares go away.

  How stupid. Cav might be a brave warrior, but he couldn’t take on her personal battles, especially with her toxic past. No one could do it but her.

  Lia couldn’t shake her sense that she needed him. It was almost physical and she turned, afraid she’d say something. Damn, she resented her weakness! So she padded barefoot down the hall, the tiles soothing to her, and coolly called over her shoulder, “Good night, Cav. Thanks.”

  Cav lay in the darkness, a sliver of moon shining through the gauzy white curtains drawn across the two windows in the living room. The couch, thank God, wasn’t soft. It was hard and nicely supported his long back.

  He couldn’t sleep for a lot of reasons, even though he, too, was exhausted. In fact, he’d snapped wide-awake after Lia had left the bathroom and showered, the scent of her still haunting him.

  The fragrance of the soap reminded him of the sweet smell of plumeria from Hawaii. It lingered in the large bathroom, which had a tub and shower in it. Cav had an acute sense of smell. His SEAL team often accused him of being able to smell Taliban half a mile away if the wind was right.

  Now, closing his eyes, Lia’s scent in the room drove him crazy, made him want what he couldn’t have. Her fragrance stirred him at his deepest levels, not just the physical one.

  Groaning to himself, he knew he needed to find a woman—and soon. Lia was off limits because she was his detail. His job was to provide her safety and protection, not take her to bed. What the hell was going on with him?

  Cav knew plenty of willing women at Coronado when he was a SEAL. All he had to do was walk into a SEAL bar and there they were, ripe, willing and eager. In contrast, Lia was anything but ready. Her reserve cautioned him that something terrible had occurred to her, even before the school was burned down five days ago.

  WHAT had happened to her? And how did she get those scars?

  Sitting up, he wiped his smarting eyes and glared at the dark, shadowy front door. The clock on the small table read 0200. Getting up, he pulled on his chinos and his Nikes, and then went to the weapon’s bag he’d stored down at the end of the couch. Now was as good a time as any to scout outside the house, listen to the normal night sounds, and see if anything dangerous was moving around.

  Pulling a set of night goggles over his head, he let them rest against his chest. Then, he picked up his M4 and quietly moved to the rear door. He wanted to check in on Lia in her bedroom, but resisted.

  Outside, the cooling breeze moved past him as he quietly closed the door behind him. The house stood on a flat plain. In the distance, he saw glimmering sulfur lights along the main. Remaining in the shadows, his M4 in a chest harness, he stood still and listened to the familiar jungle sounds. A few birds squawked, thunder rumbled in the distance, and he saw the flash of lightning many miles west. The breeze felt good against his skin and he carefully perused the jungle tree line. If anyone were going to attack, they would come from that direction, no question. It would be foolish for the drug soldiers to walk up to Lia’s house out in the open.

  Pulling up his NVA’s, night vision goggles, he settled them across his eyes and flicked them on. Everything became two-dimensional and a grainy green at that point. But he could see everything. If a shadow moved along that tree line, he’d spot it in a heartbeat. Liking his location at the corner of the house far from Lia’s bedroom, he stood and communed with the night and its silent denizens.

  At one point, he saw a jaguar poke his head out of the cover of the tree line, but the cat quickly reversed his course when a dog in the village began howling. Like the shadow he was, the jaguar melted back into the darkness.

  Bats were everywhere, flitting across the low-hanging sky. The milky opalescence of the moon filtered through the thinner spots here and there. It was easy to squat back on his haunches, the M4 across his knees, arms on top of it, to watch and listen.

  For the next hour, at different points around the house, Cav slowly moved into another position, crouched, waited and watched.

  By the time 3 A.M. arrived, he’d made a full circuit, convinced that the only thing moving were the insects, the bats and predators deep in the jungle.

  The dog that had been barking had stopped. The rustle of the leaves against one another as a thunderstorm moved in their direction convinced him to go back inside.

  Inside, Cav closed the door, locking it. Frowning, he remained tense as a faraway sound drifted toward him. What was he hearing? Cocking his head, he realized it was coming from Lia’s bedroom, or close to it.

  He moved silently down the hall and halted abruptly as he saw Lia. She was in a light blue cotton gown that fell to her knees, and she was walking back and forth between the bedroom and the kitchen. Her eyes were wide open.

  What the hell?

  Cav watched her. Although her eyes were open, she wasn’t blinking. Confused, he wondered if she saw him. She was breathing hard, her hand against her chest, just walking back and forth.

  Sleepwalking? Was that it? Cav’s gut tightened over that possibility. Lia’s hair was mussed, making her look very young, and the open neck of her gown revealed her slender collarbones and long neck. Then, he saw long scars on her calves and her arms, which she kept hidden by day.

  She was walking to the sink, washing her hands, drying them on a towel, turning and then walking to her bedroom.

  He heard her whimper from time to time, saying nothing he could make sense of. Cav watched her wash her hand five times in fifteen minutes. Now, he was convinced Lia was sleepwalking, because if she were really awake, she’d have seen him standing here in the doorway of the kitchen.

  Cav felt Lia’s pain. How many times had his mother told him that she’d found him sleepwalking as a child? Far too many. Cav never remembered any of those times, but his mother had smiled sweetly at him, fluffed his hair and said that she’d had a conversation with him while he was sleepwalking. Cav never recalled any of those conversations.

  He just wished he knew what Lia was whimpering about. Her sounds were like those of an animal caught with its paw in a painful trap. He saw her brow scrunch and heard her breathe fast and hard. Then, she was washing her hands, again and again. What had happened to her?

  His mind moved back to those times when his mother would gently tease him at breakfast the next morning. “You were sleepwalking again,” she’d tease, and then asked,” Don’t you remember talking to me?”

  Apparently, she’d always ask him where he was going, and he’d reply that he was running away from his father. Where would he go? Anywhere to get away from him.

&nb
sp; Cav always felt humiliated and stupid for not remembering, because above all, he believed his mother. She had always been good to him, loving and trying her best to protect him from his druggie dad.

  Now, Lia walked back into the bedroom. Should he stand in the kitchen so she would be fully aware of him? Should he talk to her? What would it do? Would it scare the hell out of her? Make her scream? Awaken her?

  Cav had researched online the causes of sleepwalking. What he read, he didn’t like. Certain foods, sleep deprivation, traumatic incidents, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, otherwise known as PTSD, could cause it.

  Grimly, he wondered how often this occurred in Lia, and how long it had been going on. And of course, she wouldn’t know because sleepwalkers never did.

  Cav had learned that when he had a sleepwalking episode, it was hell waking up the next morning. His head felt as if it was caked with mud, and he didn’t even have the strength to pull himself awake. All his senses were distorted, slow to come online, and he felt tired.

  As he grew older, he began to see his episodes were directly linked to fights with his father when he would be beaten, yelled at, or hit with that damned thick belt he always wore around his waist.

  Was Lia’s sleepwalking due to the trauma of the school burning down? Could it be the loss of her good friends, Maria and Sophia? Cav thought it was entirely possible, based upon his own experiences. A SEAL shrink who had talked to Cav after a harrowing mission had asked him if he ever had such episodes. He didn’t want to tell her, but finally, he admitted to it “once or twice.”

  She smiled sympathetically and somehow got inside his head, won his trust and listened to him spill his guts out. He’d been afraid he’d be kicked out of the SEALs, but nothing happened. The shrink had held their conversation private and sacred; she was the first woman he’d ever trusted after his mother.

  He owed that SEAL shrink, Dr. Amanda Hunter, a debt of thanks. She told him it was a normal response to being under threat. Some people, she’d told him, acted out what had happened. Some people dreamed about an event time and again until the shock of the incident wore off. Sleepwalking was just another way of doing the same thing if it occurred because of a trauma or shock. It was a way of healing the wound that scarred one’s soul. And by doing that, it was a good thing.