Nowhere to Hide (3 page)

Working as an assistant to Maria and Sophia, Lia was the chief cook and bottle washer. She was responsible for the children’s snacks, their main meal at lunch, and another snack before the yellow school bus, owned by Delos Charity, took them home each afternoon.

But now she had to sleep. Tomorrow was a busy day like all the rest, but she was grateful for the activity. The children of this country were a priority, and getting them educated was a national concern. In some remote areas, charities such as Delos had put schools on the ground, backed by the government.

Shuffling out of the kitchen, she wandered down the hall and back to her large bed. Lia saw that she’d torn the sheet from where it had been tucked in, and leaned over to tuck it back. As she straightened, she felt a deep fatigue in her bones. Lying down on the bed, she shut her eyes, waiting for the fan in the room to move the sluggish, humid air. She draped her arm across her eyes and released a tremulous sigh. So much pain, the memories swirled around in her brain, she wanted to forget all of it. And yet, that one moment had defined her life from age twenty to today, five years later.

Now, as the breeze from the fan cooled her, she buried her head in her pillow. Her greatest loss had been her hopes for a loving relationship. Since the assault, no man had wanted her. Lia, a natural team player, missed having a relationship, but after she’d been cut and scarred, her traumatized boyfriend, a soldier named Jerry, had walked away. It had been too much for him, and she’d seen it in his eyes when he’d visited her in the hospital, trying to be supportive. Once he’d seen the extent of her injuries and the stitches, his mouth had tightened. She sensed that he just wanted to get the hell out of the room. She had loved him and she thought Jerry had loved her, but that event had shown her differently.

Would this ever end? Lia was tired of wasting “poor me” tears on herself. Fortunately, her parents were wonderful. Her mom and dad, talked to her weekly. She really looked forward to sharing that link with them. Often, they asked her to come home to live with them, but Lia didn’t want to do that. It would be admitting that she’d given up on ever having a normal relationship, including marriage and children.

Unconsciously, she reached up with her fingertips, moving lightly down the two-inch jagged scar on her left cheek. The blade had gone through it, scoring her gums and ripping it open. The surgery on that one scar had been the worst and the most devastating to Lia. Plastic surgeons paid by her parents to repair the damage only took out the puckers and scars that had been created as it healed.

The knife had sliced through thin, delicate muscles that helped her smile, helped her face be normal to someone looking at her. Unfortunately, it hadn’t quite worked out that way. Now she felt like the monster from Notre Dame in Paris, France. She was, as she saw herself, an unnatural-looking woman, a hunchback of sorts, without the hunchback. Her face implied there was a terrible story behind the scar, and she felt everyone’s eyes upon it, when meeting her for the first time. Although she could cover up the other wounds beneath her clothing, her face was there for everyone to see.

She remembered what had happened with a man who had been interested in her two years ago. Lia wished she could blot out her memories of that night. She had been very apprehensive, worried about what Manuel would think as he undressed her to make love to her.

It had been so hard to talk about her assault, about what had been done to her physical body, and she’d tried, but as he peeled off her clothes and saw the devastation across her body, he had stepped back from her.

Manuel had stood gazing at the scars, and Lia had felt as if a chasm was now separating them. He slowly shook his head, said, “I’m sorry,” and slowly walked out the door. She knew he would never return.

Lia had sat on the bed, fighting tears of humiliation, knowing her body had disgusted him. Luckily, she was unlikely to run into him again because he wasn’t a local. In fact, she never did see him again.

At least
, Lia thought,
I can be grateful for that
.

Since then, she’d given up thinking in terms of relationships, surrendering to the reality of a life alone, without love, and without a partnership.

She instead shifted her focus to Delos, a place that welcomed her hard work and her love of children. At least Lia could do some good for them by giving them her love, care and attention. And those little ones were like bright flowers, radiant under her care.

She smiled. The children were curious little things. The first time Lia had stepped into the Home School Foundation building in La Fortuna, she had tried to gird herself for the children’s curiosity about her scars. But unlike men, the children were simply curious and wanted to touch them. Lia had seen their sympathy in their large, wide eyes as she crouched down, allowing them to touch her scar, to feel it, to see sadness come to their tiny faces that never lied about anything.

The children had long ago accepted her as she was, and adored her because she was there for them. Her scars were never an issue; in fact, these children had seen their own share of misfortune, and it bonded them more closely with this American angel who was here to teach, love, and support them.

Finally, Lia fell into a light, restless sleep. She never slept deeply after a nightmare, and knew she’d wake up early, feeling ragged, tired and stressed out. But just the act of getting a shower, clean clothes, washing her hair and getting ready to go to the school that sat five hundred feet away from her small home, made her heart sing.

Tomorrow, they were taking the children in three rented vans to the Venado Caves, not far away. Because Lia’s dad was a spelunker, she had grown up crawling into and discovering caves and loving them.

She had the two young women, Maria and Sophia, on hand to help with the children on field trips. And tomorrow, with all the children’s lunches packed and in the vans, they would go on a wonderful adventure.

Lia knew the children would be wide-eyed with wonder as she led them into the large, outer portion of the massive cave system buried beneath the jungle terrain. They would see so many wonderful, natural sights…just thinking about it gave her heart a lift.

Those happy thoughts were the last she had as she drifted off to sleep. The past three years of living here in Costa Rica had begun to heal her wounded body and spirit, and brought her good dreams, like the one she was having now. They were filled with vibrant colors and fragrances as she dreamed of walking into the mouth of the Venado caves. That simple act erased the horrifying past as she focused on the natural beauty of this incredible country. She might not have a close, wonderful relationship with a man, but spelunking fed something in her soul.

Still, her heart yearned for the right man to walk into her life. She had just about accepted that the odds of that happening were so low, there was no point thinking about it. After all, who would want a carved-up woman with a jagged scar on one side of her face? No one…

“H
ey, Jordan! Get
off your sorry ass!” Butch kicked his buddy’s bunk, a broken down affair in a grungy room where they had their base of operation. “There’s a call for you from a General Culver. ASAP!”

Cav Jordan groaned, his head pounding with a splitting headache. Sonofabitch, he’d drunk too many damn pisco sours last night at that club in Las Flores here in Lima, Peru. Covering his pounding head, he cursed at Butch, his ex-SEAL buddy. “Tell ’em to call back in an hour. I’m in no shape to talk to anybody.” He glared up at a grinning Butch.

“May be a PSD, personal security detail, buddy…”

“Fuck it, I can’t think straight. I gotta get a shower and some coffee in me….”

Butch shrugged his big shoulders and grinned. “General Culver’s been good to us over the years, Cav. Are you sure you can’t mumble ‘yes’ and take his assignment?”

“No,” Cav snarled, slowly pushing up on his unmade bunk. The place was the size of a damn refrigerator, with just enough room for a Peruvian army bunk. The damn things always had squeaky springs. “I need an hour.”

“Roger that.”

Cav growled again, pushing his long black hair off his heavily unshaven face. When was the last time he’d shaved? Blearily, he scowled at the morning sunlight slanting into the small window. His straight brows flattened. His eyes were barely able to stay open, the light hurting the hell out of them. Shit, he was still drunk.

His stomach rolled with nausea. Why the hell had he drunk that ex-Special Forces dude under the table at El Diablo, last night?

Pride, he thought grumpily, pushing his fingers across his dark, hairy chest. He sat there in a pair of blue boxer shorts that hadn’t been washed for almost a week. Curling his lip, he could smell his sour flesh, mixed with the alcohol on his fetid breath. His mouth tasted like something that had died a week ago, and the smell made him want to throw up.

At twenty-six, Cav felt more like he was eighty. Glaring at the light, he pushed his shoulder-length hair behind him and got to his bare feet. Dammit, he
was
going to throw up!

Butch pushed a mug of steaming coffee in his direction as he emerged from the tiny bathroom, a towel draped around his hips. “Here, take this. You look like shit warmed over.”

Smirking at his best friend, Cav snapped, “Just give me the fuckin’ cup of coffee” as he plopped down on the creaky wooden stool at the small round table.

Grinning, Butch nursed his own coffee, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. “You’re so sweet the morning after….”

Snorting, Cav lifted the coffee, his hand none too steady. “Why the hell do you look so damned perky this morning?” He lifted the cup to his lips, the fragrant brew making his empty stomach growl. At least the coffee smelled and tasted good. That was progress.

“Because,” Butch said lightly, “I didn’t get stone-assed drunk on pisco sours with that asshole special ops dude like you did. Really, Cav, you’re an ex-SEAL and you let the bastard provoke you into a dumb drinking match.”

Cav’s eyes were red-rimmed and watering as he offered a one-shouldered shrug. “Ain’t gonna let some Spec Four dude drink me under the table. Us SEALs are tough.”

“Yeah…right. Well, you certainly look like you could pull off a PSD right now. Five-day beard, your hair looks like shit, you look like shit and your skin is pasty lookin’. Oh, and your hands shake.”

“Up yours,” Cav returned.

“I guess the General will call back.”

“Did he say anything about the PSD?” Cav demanded, wiping his sweaty brow with the back of his forearm. Now, because he’d drunk so damned much, he was going to start sweating it out. It would mean another shower in an hour. Cav hated smelling like a drunk.

“Yeah. One of their Home School Foundation charities in northern Costa Rica just got burned to the ground last night. Seems a drug lord with his soldiers attacked it and murdered two women teachers. A third woman managed to escape into the jungle.”

Cav’s mouth twisted. “Great. Drug lords. What the hell is new down here in Central and South America?” he grumped. “What’s he want me to do?”

“The woman who survived, Lia Cassidy, called in the attack to Delos Charity Central in Alexandria, Virginia. She’s asking for help.”

Cav slid his friend a surprised look. “Usually, charities are off limits, even to those bastards.”

Shrugging, Butch muttered, “Apparently not any more. General Culver, who’s over in Istanbul, Turkey right now on a NATO exercise, got a call from his wife, Dilara, who runs the charity. He said he thought of you as a PSD for this survivor, Lia Cassidy.”

“Shit!”

“Hey, the pay is good, my man.” Butch looked around their third-story apartment, which was small but clean—if they cleaned it. A housekeeper came in once a week to clean, their focus was to provide personal security for rich people who could pay their high fees.

“What’s he offering?” Cav mumbled, sucking down the hot coffee and feeling his stomach roll again.

“Well, right now he wants you to go in undercover as a replacement teacher for the facility they’re going to rebuild. That entails a lot more than just carrying a rifle around looking mean and efficient. He’s offering you ten grand for a month.”

Perking up, Cav liked the sound of that. “Seriously, dude?”

“Yeah,” Butch said, puckering his lips. “Wish to hell I had a sugar daddy like this General in my back pocket like you do. Ten grand has a nice ring to it.”

Wiping his sweaty brow, Cav grumbled, “This woman, Lia Cassidy? She must be someone important for them to throw that kind of money out.”

“Dunno. He didn’t give details. But he wants you undercover, no guns showing. He’s already in touch with the Costa Rican government to give you permission to come into their country armed.”

Cav knew this particular Central American country had no military force, only a police force. Guns were strictly forbidden by anyone except their own efficient police force. To be caught there with weapons meant an automatic prison sentence, a long one, and Cav knew that for a security clearance, government permission was a must.

“Okay,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “so far that sounds good. What else did he tell you?”

“That the drug lord suspected of doing this was Dante Medina, otherwise known as La Araña.”

“The Spider? Who’s he? Some local asshole?”

“No, Medina runs the northern highlands area of that country, growing cocaine and marijuana all around the Monteverde Cloud Forest area. Apparently he’s pretty powerful,” Butch said. “And he’s not nice.”

“What drug lord is?” Cav demanded, rubbing his aching forehead. He’d already tossed down some serious ibuprofen to dull that drumbeat clanging in his head. He silently cursed the Spec Four dude. He’d barely won the drinking match, watching as the guy passed out at the bar before he did.

Luckily, Butch had picked him up, paid the bar tab and hauled his sorry ass out of the seedy bar and to their beat-up Jeep parked out in front. Cav came to as Butch flopped him onto his bed in their apartment. Then, he promptly passed out again.