Free Hide and Seek by Lara Adrián Page A

or two lead time before someone else came looking for her.
    They needed to put miles between themselves and the cabin, and they needed to do it fast. John had packed a duffel with a change of clothes and some additional firearms. Lisa had the few things she brought with her from Cincinnati in her backpack.
    With it likely that whoever was tracking Lisa now also had John on their radar, his old pickup would have been as useless to them as her car. Alec’s Jeep, parked down at the base of the mountain since he’d arrived last night, made for a cramped road trip option but they had few choices.
    Lisa didn’t know precisely where she and her pair of grim companions were headed now. Before they left North Carolina, Alec had made a call to a friend who’d agreed to provide them with a temporary safe house somewhere. Now, as the sun began to set over I-95 South some eleven hours later, Lisa watched from the Wrangler’s small backseat as the highway signs indicated they were approaching Miami.
    Alec exited the highway and drove through a maze of side streets and back alleys, skirting the tropical vibrancy of the downtown for a more industrial section of the city. The salty scent of the ocean and aromatic, spicy foods carried in through the Jeep’s open windows as they traveled deeper into Miami’s back channels.
    Alec seemed to know the area well. He navigated with a sure hand, eventually rolling the Jeep to a stop at a gated entrance to a large dock-front warehouse.
    A mean-looking security guard came out of the small gate shack to approach. He was swarthy and thick-trunked, his dark brows furrowed over black-lensed sunglasses. At his hip, a holstered pistol bobbed with each stride he took. Behind him came an even bigger guard to circle around the other side of the Jeep.
    “Jesus Christ,” John muttered under his breath as the armed men stalked toward the car.
    The surly guard’s face lost some of its aggression as he ambled forward, but the whole thing still left Lisa on edge. She could sense John’s unease, too, as the second man strolled slowly up to the passenger window, his hand resting on his weapon. From the way John’s muscled shoulders tensed, there was little doubt he was prepared to draw his own pistol any second.
    “It’s cool, relax.” Alec lifted his finger off the wheel in a casual wave of greeting as he cranked the driver’s side window down. “Hey, Luis, qué más? ”
    The guard on Alec’s side cracked a broad smile and chuckled. He thrust his big mitt into the vehicle to clasp Alec’s hand in greeting. “Qué has hecho, parce?”
    They launched into a brief but congenial conversation in some form of Spanish. Alec was fluent, almost familial, with the men. As they were with him. Even the second guard’s face slackened into an expression that was almost friendly. Then the guard talking with Alec nodded to his comrade, who clicked a button on a remote he wore on his belt. The gate swung open, permitting them through.
    Alec gave the two men another smile and a salute, then he drove inside the warehouse yard.
    John slanted him a suspicious look as they rolled away from the guard shack. “My Spanish is rusty as fuck, but I’m guessing that was Colombian?”
    “My friend and his associates are from Bogotá,” Alec said as he drove toward the large square building up ahead and the deepwater docks behind it.
    “Your friend and his associates.” John grunted. He swung a glance at the warehouse and cursed. “Just what kind of safe house did you arrange for us, Stingray?”
    Alec flicked an arch look at Lisa in the rearview mirror. “He always this growly and ungrateful?”
    John glared. “Some people just bring out the best in me.”
    Lisa smiled in spite of the apprehension that rippled through her. John’s caution was understandable, after all. In coming with Alec, they were putting their lives in his hands. She and John—Alec, too—were putting their lives in the hands of people he said