Markus handed it to Gabby. “Look like ours?”
Gabby peeked inside to make sure it wasn’t someone’s actual beach bag. It wasn’t. Underneath a visor and a blanket, she found everything they might need. It looked like the inside of a Verizon store.
“Our cottage should be within range of the listening devices,”Markus said. “At least, if the liaison was right about room assignments.”
Markus slung the bag over his shoulder. “Recon time.” Together, they surveyed the length of the beach. At the farthest end, a modern structure hung over the water. The setting sun glinted off its floor-to-ceiling windows, and a waterfall spilled over the cliff, seemingly from underneath the house. “That’s the Big G’s private residence,” Markus said.
“They must be selling some juicy secrets to pay for that,” Gabby said.
Markus pointed at one of the luxury “cottages” between their location and the Big G’s residence. “According to the liaison, a single woman who meets Sheridan’s description has been on the patio every day.” Their plan: knock on the door, introduce themselves, and ask if Sheridan needed a ride back to Wyoming.
Gabby took a few strides toward Sheridan’s cottage while Markus scanned the area. “Careful.”
They could be walking into anything. If Sheridan had been kidnapped, there could be an armed guard. If she hadn’t been abducted, she might be colluding with Inner-G.
“Stay alert,” Markus advised.
They walked carefully up a sweet, hydrangea-lined path toward the cottage. There was no sign of any security measures. Nothing but tropical paradise, lapping waves, and sand. Just as the liaison had described, a woman who definitely looked like Sheridan was relaxing on the back patio. Seemingly unalarmed, she put her book down and waved at the sight of Gabby and Markus.
“If she’s been kidnapped, sign me up,” Gabby whispered. The woman had a plate of snacks and an umbrella drink.
When Gabby and Markus made it to the edge of the patio, the woman gave them one look and said, “You’re not here for the Power Couples Retreat, are you?”
Was it that obvious? Sheridan might be the real deal.
“Of course we are.” Markus forced a laugh. “I’m George, and this is Gia.”
“Sheridan.” The psychic smiled and held out one perfectly manicured hand. She and Gabby shook hands like they were at a meet and greet at the Cleveland Marriott, not that Gabby had ever been to Cleveland.
Gabby fought to stay present in a reality that didn’t quite make sense. She was not the kind of person who functioned off three hours of sleep on an airplane and hit the ground running.
Because they needed to move their conversation out of range of listening devices, Gabby said, “We’re so turned around. Would you please show us to the main resort?”
Sheridan glanced at the comfort of her patio but grabbed her flip-flops and led the way.
Anyone else would have said, “Hell no,” but Sheridan seemed to know who they were. She was steady and decisive, no indication of any fear.
A safe distance from her patio, Sheridan stopped walking and faced them. “I assume you know who I am.”
“Sheridan Lane?” Gabby said.
“And you are?” Sheridan asked.
“I’m Agent Parks, and this is Agent Greene,” said Markus. “We’re with the CIA. As you can no doubt imagine, there has been a lot of concern over your disappearance.”
“I told President Simon I was fine,” she said.
“You did?” That’s not what they had heard. According to the president, he’d heard nothing from Sheridan.
“Yes.”
“You spoke to him yourself?” Markus asked, and Sheridan nodded yes.
They’d given up the subterfuge of needing directions to the main resort and were standing on the beach close to Sheridan’s. A couple strolled by with yoga mats under their arms. The man said, “Namaste.”
Sheridan returned the “namaste” with a serene smile.
“So you’re not being held against your will?” Markus asked. Something smelled fishy about this situation.
