“Do you think there is some coincidence? Foul play?” Maggie scribbled some more on her pad.
“We’ve barely scratched the surface. Maybe Ruffing needed another tax write-off,” Annie offered as an explanation.
“Maybe, but why would Gabby leave such a cryptic message?”
“Perhaps she didn’t like the way the place was being run.”
“But it sounded rather menacing, beginning with the phone call from the flower shop, to what the florist told me about her getting into a car with two men, then her latest message.”
Maggie replayed the scenarios in her head and out loud.
“If she didn’t like how the place was being run, then they may have been concerned about bad publicity. She was a reporter before she signed up with them,” Annie suggested.
“Good point,” Maggie agreed. “So what’s the next move?”
“Ask Jimmy to get you as much real background on Ruffing as he can find. We know he pays dearly to control his public persona in the media, as well as what is not covered in the media.”
Maggie was taking copious notes.
“His public persona is easy to find. He owns a very large marina-boatyard in Downtown Miami, near Mia-marina, a colossal estate on Star Island. Helicopter, private jet. The works. He also leases property in Varadero on the coast of Cuba, which seems a bit shady and suspicious. I don’t think he goes to Cuba just for the cigars, and it’s rumored that it’s a playground for the rich and powerful. We need to find out who he hangs out with when the paparazzi aren’t lurking about.”
“Got it.”
“Maggie?” Annie lowered her voice.
“Yesss ...” Maggie dragged out her answer, recognizing the tone in Annie’s voice. It was the voice that said, “You may have to go out on a stakeout.”
“Aw, c’mon. You know I hate stakeouts.” Maggie started to whine like a four-year-old.
“I didn’t say you had to, I said you may have to.” Annie didn’t want Maggie on a stakeout any more than Maggie did. It would be a last resort if they couldn’t get more information using all their other resources. “Let’s just keep that door open.”
“Yeah, but just a crack.” Maggie thought about the heat and humidity sitting in a car all night. It gave her the willies.
“Don’t get all wired up about it. Yet.” Annie was trying to be reassuring.
“Okay. I’ll try not to.”
“Good. Meanwhile, I’ll let the others know about Jimmy. We weren’t expecting your call, so everyone is out and about.”
“We’re going to the farmers’ market tomorrow. Yoko is going to work at the flower stand, and Alexis and I will arrive as tourists. We plan on going separately and pretending we don’t know each other.”
“Excellent. We’ll talk again tomorrow evening. Be safe and behave!”
“We will.” Maggie hit the END button on her burner phone.
She turned to the others. “I’m famished!”
They burst into laughter and passed around the room service menu.
Chapter Fifteen
Gabby was usually one of the Pledges who attended the farmers’ market. Her smile and charisma were a winning combination. But this day she was asked to cover for Maxwell the entire morning. While she didn’t mind, she was disappointed that she wouldn’t experience the atmosphere of the market. With so many people selling their wares—exotic fruits and vegetables that could only be grown in private gardens; handcrafted clothes; toys; and accessories—she loved the experience of seeing and meeting many different people. Not only was it a haven for excess inventory for florists, it was also a place where artists could make a few dollars selling paintings, sculpture, jewelry, and much more. Gabby loved the eclectic ensemble. It was inspiring—free spirits enjoying life, expressing their passions—even if she was only allowed to watch from a distance. On the one hand, she was disheartened about not going, but on the other, it might present an opportunity for her to get a message to Maggie. That was only if Noah, with his grouchy personality, wasn’t around.
Gabby looked on as the van was being loaded with the week’s cornucopia of goods. Maybe tomorrow, she thought. She made her way to the main house to answer the same stupid question from the same dolt as she had done three times a day, every day since she had begun filling in for Maxwell. Guess he’s just doing his job.
As she climbed the steps, she noticed that Noah’s office door was open. That was a bad sign. It meant he was on the premises.
Her angst increased when he stepped into the hallway. “Good morning, Gabby.” His voice was calm and even. Not like the past few times, when he had been abrupt and downright rude.
“Good morning.” Gabby nodded and went behind the desk to take her seat.
“Maxwell tells me you’ve been doing a decent job with the messages. They are clear and detailed.”
Gabby was stunned at the sudden congeniality, especially the comment coming from Maxwell. “Thank you.” She had been a journalist, after all. Accurate note taking was a necessity for doing the job well. She wondered how much Noah knew of her background.
“Keep up the good work.” Noah turned and went back into his office, closing the door behind him. Gabby irritated him. Perhaps it was because she was bright, or maybe because Liam had taken a liking to her. But as Noah slouched in his large leather chair, he reminded himself of the real reason he tolerated her. In just a few months, she would begin to have access to the principal in the trust fund that her grandparents had established for her. Noah understood the importance of keeping Gabby content. But not overconfident. It was a fine balancing act. For most members, The Haven was a big step up from the lives they had led beforehand. According to Liam’s way of thinking, The Haven was indeed a refuge for everyone who participated. For Noah, it was nothing more than cheap labor to keep up the fa?ade. Ruffing was expanding his business and putting more pressure on Noah. Besides running the business end of The Haven, Noah was still called on to make runs to the fishing boats for “special deliveries.” Those deliveries were always made well past midnight. “Ran out of booze,” would be Ruffing’s explanation.
After working for Ruffing for more than a decade, Noah knew that he was in good standing with his boss. It was a solid professional relationship. One couldn’t call them friends. It was always business, with the exception of interacting with people at the marina. Those exchanges were casual. Noah was very careful not to fraternize with the überwealthy customers. But there were loads of other people who had money, just not in the same league as the überwealthy billionaire.