* * *

  For Gabby, the day ran long. She wasn’t used to sitting in one place for six hours, not counting her breaks. The stiff hallway patrol guy who asked her the same question every day, three times a day, was actually her understudy for phone duty. She thought it was a bit humorous. Maybe after covering for her, he wouldn’t ask that same stupid question anymore. Doubtful. He seems like an automaton. Huh. So many of them do, she said to herself. She really hadn’t paid much attention to most of the others. She was on her own vision quest, not an afternoon social. Gabby stretched and rose from her chair. She would be happy to do some yoga. As she was about to walk down the stairs, Noah came out of his office. “You’ve done a good job today.”

  Gabby almost tripped on the step. “Thank you. I am happy to do it.”

  “Glad to hear it. Maxwell isn’t feeling well, so you’re going to have to cover for him tomorrow as well.” Noah sounded much too cheery.

  “Yes, of course.” Gabby tried to hide her disappointment. It was bad enough she wasn’t going to the market, but with Liam’s upbeat energy missing, it was like being in a cell. No one spoke to anyone. Liam would always stop and say hello and ask how you were, although lately he had been behind closed doors. And now was away. Gabby’s gut was screaming at her that something wasn’t quite right.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Pinewood

  The sisters started arriving around five o‘clock. They planned to have something to eat before the seven o’clock conference call with Alexis, Maggie, and Yoko. Like with any other arrival, Lady and her pups greeted their guests with yelps and tails wagging, as the sisters hugged one another, patted the dogs’ heads, and gave them treats. Myra hugged everyone hello and feigned scolding them. “Too many treats! They’re going to get fat!”

  “Speaking of eating,” Charles interrupted the boisterous gathering. “We should get started if we want to be finished by seven.”

  Setting the table was like synchronized swimming. Everyone knew her task, and the table was ready in minutes. With a minimum of eight people and several dogs in the kitchen, it was a wonder no one tripped, bumped, or dropped anything. “Kitchen choreography,” Charles had once called it. If only the rest of the world acted with such competence, cooperation, and precision.

  The women took their seats while Charles and Fergus carried the large bowl of fettuccine carbonara, Caesar salad, and garlic bread to the table.

  “Smells divine,” Myra exclaimed. They all held hands and said grace.

  With Maggie absent, Charles asked, “Who’s going to be first?” Everyone looked around the table.

  “I guess I’ll go,” Nikki offered.

  “I’m sure Maggie will appreciate your taking the lead,” Annie said gleefully. Snickers and giggles followed. “But I can tell you, she is not going to be happy that we’re having one of her favorites tonight while she’s eating hotel food.”

  Charles reddened. “I hope she doesn’t get her knickers in a twist. I should have remembered.”

  Myra patted his hand. “I’m sure she’ll understand.” Then she lowered her head, and whispered, “Unless we don’t tell her.”

  “You know she’s going to ask,” Annie reminded her.

  “I suppose you’re right.” Myra sighed.

  “I’ll vow to make it again the next time she’s here,” Charles promised.

  “Whew.” Nikki grinned. “I’d say to freeze some of it, but that would be gross.”

  “No such thing. It has to be fresh or not at all.” Charles waved his fork like a symphony conductor’s baton.

  They passed the bread, chatted, and polished off the two pounds of fettuccine. “Good thing Maggie wasn’t here! We’d have run out of food!” Nikki noted gleefully.

  “Not in my kitchen,” Charles protested. “I would have tossed something together.” Everyone giggled, knowing how proud Charles was of his culinary accomplishments.

  Myra stroked her pearls. “Shall we?” With that, everyone stood and cleared the table, dishes, pots, and pans. It was similar to the ballet they had performed getting the table ready. Complete and total organization. Just like everything else they did.

  With the kitchen spotless in under thirteen minutes, they descended the stone steps to the War Room, each saluting Lady Justice as they passed by. The sisters took their seats while Charles and Fergus powered up the electronics. No matter how many times they convened in the War Room, they still stood in awe of the technology at their fingertips. It was like being on the set of the television show NCIS, except this was their own private Multiple Threat Alert Center.

  In addition to the large screens and the audio equipment, a large electronic map covered one wall. With the flick of a finger, they could bring up a map of almost anywhere in the world. It would put Google to shame. Fergus pressed a few buttons on the screen, and Miami-Dade County glowed like a wall mural. A yellow dot designated the location of The Haven.

  At exactly seven o’clock, everyone who was available called in on the secure conference-call line.

  One by one their images appeared on the various screens. It was as if they were all in the same room.

  When the greetings were complete, Nikki began.

  “There is some information regarding the relationship of The Haven to the shell corporations. They are funded by Trident Enterprises, a shell company that is connected to several others. But the most interesting thing we’ve discovered is that Daniel Ruffing is also connected to Trident. To what extent and in what capacity, we haven’t been able to ascertain, but the proximity of his other properties to The Haven is something to be suspicious of once you ask yourself why someone like Ruffing, with no noticeable spiritual or philanthropic chops, would want to be affiliated with a spiritual retreat and own property with such a low real-estate value.” Nikki paused for any comments.

  “That does seem a bit odd,” Isabelle came through on the video screen. “I tried to find some back doors to their website but came up with nothin’. Even their website is lame. It’s almost as if they haven’t entered the twentieth century, let alone the twenty-first.”

  “Thanks for checking, Isabelle. I know you’re on a job,” Myra said.

  “No problem. I had some free time. The fog was rolling in, and we had to knock off early. Besides, I needed the practice!” Guffaws filled the room. In addition to her talent as an architect, Isabelle was becoming a crackerjack computer hacker.

  Nikki continued, “We checked out the names of the original founders, who are listed on their site. I couldn’t find any information about the three men. It’s as if they never existed.”

  “Maggie, want to give us a briefing?” Charles asked.

  Everyone cringed, expecting the most obvious question.

  “Hey, I can still see you guys! What’s with the faces? Oh ... I bet you thought I was going to ask what you had for dinner?” Maggie retorted.

  Annie held out her hand, waiting for Fergus to pay up on his five-dollar bet. “You really didn’t think you were going to win that one. Haven’t you met Maggie?” The room was vibrating from all the cackling going on.

  “Hello? I said I can see you! What’s so darn funny?” Maggie pouted.

  “The old girl bet me that ‘what did you have for dinner?’ would be the first thing out of your mouth!” Fergus snorted.

  “I have a reputation to maintain.” Maggie grinned.

  “And so you do!” Annie exclaimed.

  “Can we please get down to business?” Charles pressed forward.

  “Not until you tell me what you had.” Maggie cocked her head, waiting for a reply.

  “I’m terribly sorry to report that I made fettucine carbonara tonight.” Charles ducked his head as if Maggie could swat him. “But I promise I shall revisit that recipe upon your return.”

  “Everyone? You heard him,” Myra jumped in. His fettuccine was one of her favorites, too.

  “Can we please get on with this?” Annie pushed. “Maggie, what did you find out?”

  Maggie explained her interaction with the young woman at the market. She described the enthusiastic Cassie, the Pledge she had met, and the various books, pamphlets, and flyers on display. Most had Liam’s face plastered on the cover. “The market is massive. About a hundred vendors. The Haven has five stalls, each selling a different product. There was no sign of Gabby. The booth I spent the most time in was the one with Cassie. She half explained the course setup. Said someone would be there tomorrow to explain the various tiers, costs, et cetera.”

  Yoko was next. “They all dress similarly. The only difference is the stole around their necks. Seems like they’re color-coded. It reminded me of some kind of cult you would have seen in the seventies. Aside from looking like a throwback to Moonies or Hare Krishna, they looked perfectly banal. However, one thing struck me as quite odd. There were three men hovering around the perimeter of the booths. It was almost as if they were standing guard. They were expressionless. If it weren’t for their outfits, you would have thought they were Secret Service agents. They looked like professional security. Earbuds and all.”

  Myra touched her pearls. “Why would an organization like that need security?”

  Nikki chimed in. “And why would they be funded through a shell company that is also tethered to one of the many Ruffing holdings?”

  Annie started to write notes on one of the electronic boards. “This is what we know:”

  1 SECURITY GUARDS

  2 SHELL COMPANY – TRIDENT ENTERPRISES

  3 DANIEL RUFFING – TRIDENT ENTERPRISES

  “What we don’t know is where Gabby Richardson is. Fergus is still trying to sort out the source of her second call. We already know the first was from a florist. The second call also went through our toll-free line, so we need another day to zero in on the origin.” Annie looked up at Maggie’s monitor. “I hate to say this but ...”

  “I’m already planning on it.” Maggie sighed, acknowledging she was going to have to go on a stakeout. “It’s the only way we’ll get a glimpse of the comings and goings at The Haven.”

  “Do you think you can get Jimmy to accompany you?” Myra stroked her beads. “I wouldn’t want you skulking out deep in the woods alone.”

  The electronic map on the wall indicated that The Haven was on the far west side of Homestead, butting up against the Everglades. “The only issue could be traffic. If there’s too much, then there’s a problem. If there’s too little, we’ll look conspicuous,” Maggie mused aloud. “But that hasn’t stopped me before! I’ll call Jimmy right away. When should we start?”

  “Since we have little to go on, I suggest you start tomorrow morning. Early,” Annie said.

  Maggie groaned. “I’ll bring plenty of bagels. Oh wait. Do they have bagels in Miami?”

  Giggles filled the room. “You’re near the University of Miami. A third of the student body is from the New York metropolitan area. I’m sure there’s a law,” Annie added.

  Charles turned to the screen displaying Alexis. “Anything you noticed, gleaned, surmised?”

  “Everything was cash-only. No credit or debit cards. They were cordial. Almost zombie-like. I wore my Jamaican disguise just in case I needed to go back.”

  “Excellent,” Charles added. “Sit tight until we get some intel from Maggie. Maggie, you okay with this?”

  “Yep! I’ll be there at the crack of dawn.”

  “Does anyone else have something to add for now?” Myra asked.

  Shrugs and “nopes” went around the room.

  “Okay, all. Keep in touch and be safe!”

  Before they logged off, all the women, whether they were in the room or phoning in, saluted Lady Justice.

  * * *

  It was literally the crack of dawn when Maggie and Jimmy meandered their way to the back roads of Miami-Dade County.

  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 heÏlped 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 ...