Free Hide and Seek by Lara Adrián Page B

could be trusted, yet who seemed to be more than a little dangerous in their own right.
    “That’s our ride over there,” Alec said. He nodded ahead of them, to where a sleek helicopter stood. “The safe house is a short flight from here. The pilot will take us the rest of the way.”
    As they collected their things and climbed out of the Jeep to approach the helipad, John caught Lisa’s hand in his. The gesture was as unexpected as it was intimate and reassuring. She didn’t try to pretend she didn’t welcome his warmth as they embarked on this strange new leg of their journey together.
    Alec greeted the pilot with the same fluent Spanish and easy charm. Like the guards at the gate, this man was also armed with a holstered pistol and a don’t-mess-with-me demeanor. After a few words with Alec, a few moments to allow them to get settled and buckled in to their seats in back of the cockpit, they were off.
    The chopper lifted up over the azure water and strip of white sand, then banked into a southerly course. The Florida keys lay up ahead, a chain of green islands of varying sizes and populations. They spangled like dark jewels in the setting sunlight.
    Lisa watched the scenery pass below, then realized they were heading for a small island set by itself about a quarter-mile off shore from a larger key. The beach-fringed clump of green foliage was home to a single residence—a sprawling tropical mansion with a pool on one side and a helipad on the other. A pair of wooden boat slips stretched out into the blue water, and circling the entire diameter of the residence was what appeared to be a hand-dug moat.
    The helicopter began to descend. As they touched down on the concrete pad, two pairs of guards waited nearby.
    Lisa was apparently getting used to the idea of being greeted by heavily armed Colombians, because she hardly flinched when one of them gestured to take her backpack inside for her while Alec chatted up the leader of their detail and casually shook hands with the others.
    The guard who’d taken Lisa’s backpack went to the helicopter and retrieved a medium-sized silver suitcase. When he started carrying it inside with her backpack, she stepped in and shook her head. “Wait, that one’s not ours—”
    “He knows,” Alec interjected smoothly. Smiling, he gestured to the guard to continue on. “My friend on the mainland sent along some other cargo with us.”
    Duarte slowly shook his head. “We’re not staying.”
    Alec frowned. “What?”
    “We’re not taking favors from some fucking drug dealer, Stingray.”
    “You got a better option, Ranger?” Alec met him stare for stare, every bit as hard-headed and clearly just as accustomed to being the chief alpha in charge. “Like I told you, we’ll be safe here. Those men in there and the one they serve may operate outside the law, but they’re good people. And so long as we’re here, they’ll guard us like they would their own family.” He pivoted away from John and Lisa, and started walking. “I smell dinner cooking inside. You two coming, or what?”
     
    ~ ~ ~
     
    Duarte had his doubts about Alec and his so-called friend’s provision of a safe house, but even he had to admit the accommodations didn’t suck. Neither did the dinner they’d all enjoyed an hour ago in the main house. Turned out one of the rifle-toting Colombians who’d greeted them on arrival was also a gourmet-caliber cook.
    After feasting on marinated grilled mahi with melon and citrus salsa, spicy roasted vegetables, followed by a sweet coconut flan for dessert, Duarte’s doubts about their private island hosts had lost some of their edge. The generous pours of hundred-year-old scotch he and Alec had enjoyed after the meal hadn’t hurt either.
    As for Alec, some of Duarte’s reservations about trusting him had smoothed as well, despite the numerous questions Duarte had when it came to his old friend’s current dubious affiliations. The two of them had shot the shit