Maggie had a bag of bagels on her lap. A cooler filled with water and sandwiches sat behind her seat. She knew she was going to have to use Mother Nature’s bathroom at some point and had brought a roll of toilet paper. Her biggest concern were bugs and snakes, not necessarily in that order. They went past the entrance, turned around, and pulled onto the side of the road several yards before the entrance to The Haven.
Jimmy had borrowed a beat-up truck similar to one that a gardener would drive, including a wheelbarrow and some rakes in the flatbed. The rig was much less obvious in that area than a clean, polished SUV would be, which was confirmed when he saw one pull up to the front gate. “What the, what the ... ?” He elbowed Maggie and jotted down the number on the license plate as it was going through the gate. The SUV was a black Escalade with tinted windows.
Maggie looked at her watch. It was barely five thirty in the morning. Maggie opened her door. “Where are you going?” Jimmy hissed.
“I want to see who is coming and going in that vehicle.”
“Okay. Be careful. I do not want to incur the wrath of Annie if anything happens to you.”
Maggie jumped from the cab and slipped her burner phone into the front pocket of her chinos. If anything did happen to her, Charles would be able to get the coordinates off her phone and send help. But she didn’t think that would happen. It was a spiritual retreat, after all. Okay, maybe more a cult. But they all seemed rather harmless. Harmless except for the disturbing phone calls she had received from Gabby. But Maggie was optimistic that Fergus would sort it out sooner rather than later.
Between the insect repellant and the sunscreen, Maggie was a slimy mess. “If anyone catches me, I’ll just slither out of their hands!” She gave Jimmy a wink and dashed across the road. She made her way along the perimeter of the chain-link fence, using the foliage to conceal her from view. She listened for the vehicle and followed the sound, which led her to a building. It appeared to be a garage. She could hear voices in the distance. All she could make out was a woman with a sultry voice speaking to a man in Spanish. “Diecinueve camino de la luna amarilla.” She couldn’t hear anything else they said. She peeked through the huge ferns and saw an impeccably dressed, tall, honey-toned woman with straight jet-black hair. She could almost double for Alexis. There was another woman with her. Maggie guessed her to be in her early twenties. She, too, was perfectly dressed and had a stylish ginger bob haircut. Wow. They surely don’t look like any of the people I saw yesterday. She sent a text to Jimmy, describing the women and the only words she heard, “Diecinueve camino de la luna amarilla.” She had silenced her phone and turned off the vibration feature.
Just as she was shoving her phone in her pocket, she heard the snap of a branch behind her. Before she could steady herself, she felt the cold barrel of a rifle on her back. She immediately put her hands in the air.
“What are you doing here?” a deep voice demanded.
Maggie didn’t make a move. “I, I was looking for my dog.”
“Here?” The voice sounded impatient.
“Yes. I stopped down the road for him to go, you know, pee-pee, and he broke from the leash. I’ve been looking for him for over an hour.” Maggie sounded convincing. “May I please turn around?”
“No. Walk forward along the fence.” He gave her a nudge.
She tripped on a root of a banyan tree and fumbled with her phone. She was able to hit the DUMP button before it hit the ground. She decided to leave it there under the leaves. All things considered, she decided that it was better if they didn’t confiscate it. It would seem very odd for someone to be walking around with something other than a Samsung or an iPhone, which could raise serious suspicions. At least Charles or Fergus would know her latest location if she couldn’t get out of this situation. Whatever kind of situation it was.
The man grabbed her arm and yanked her up, not noticing the “breadcrumb” she had left behind. “Move it.” He gave her another shove.
“I’m just looking for my dog,” Maggie pleaded.
“Yeah. Whatever. Keep moving.”
Maggie walked slowly ahead of the armed man. She didn’t want to cause any more trouble and kept her mouth shut.
As they approached the entrance to The Haven, she heard the sound of an airboat nearby. She glanced at her watch and made a mental note. She knew Jimmy would be worried, but there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Jimmy would know to call Annie and inform them of her disappearance if she was gone too long.
As they entered the property, Maggie saw the tall, honey-toned woman get back into the SUV. She was alone. Another mental note. What happened to the other woman?
The man with the gun spoke again, but not to Maggie. “I have an uninvited guest in the driveway.” She couldn’t hear a response. He was probably wearing a headset. Maggie recalled that Alexis had said there were men in strange clothes who looked like Secret Service agents. “Says she’s looking for her lost dog.” Another few seconds went by. “Roger that.”
Within minutes, a young man in a white outfit came out of the main building. “Follow me.” Maggie obliged. He led her up a flight of stairs and into a small room that had only a long table and two chairs. It looked just like the interrogation rooms you see in movies.
“Wait here.”
As if I have a choice, Maggie thought glumly. She took a seat and heard the door lock behind her. This is too weird.
Jimmy checked his watch. Maggie had been gone for over an hour. He had responded to her first text but heard nothing back since. He debated whether or not he should call Annie. Give her a little more time.
Chapter Seventeen
Simone had he?lped Rachel get ready very early that morning. She picked her outfit and labeled the others for different occasions. Not that Rachel wasn’t bright enough to figure it out, but Simone found it a useful tool for newly indoctrinated “spokespersons.” After all, most of them came from seedy backgrounds. They wouldn’t know the difference between a clutch and a satchel, or a Valentino and a Versace. Whenever Simone thought of Gianni Versace, she wanted to cry. They had become social acquaintances when she had first arrived in Miami Beach. After all these years, people were still reeling from the senseless murder of the famous and generous designer. As the SUV pulled out of the driveway, Simone pushed the power button to roll down her window. She needed some real air. Not recycled, interior car air. She noticed a sorry-looking pickup truck parked across the road a few yards from the gate and shook her head. She muttered to herself, “What a shame. I’d bet he can barely feed his family.” She knew all too well the struggle to become an educated person of color. Especially one from a different country. Occasionally, she regretted getting involved with the people she now worked for, but doing so had been too tempting to ignore. When it came time to choose what to do with her life, she had had the choice of becoming a teacher at an urban high school or the private concierge to one of the richest men in the world. So ...