Pedaling out to Corbett’s place, she checked the odometer. It was five miles from her motel to his house and another five miles to his office in the village. Easy peasy. She rolled past the driveway and stopped to take a swig from her water bottle. She spotted the blue Mercedes. So, he hadn’t left yet. Or maybe he had taken a cab? She hopped back on the bike, rode a few hundred yards down the road, and stopped again. This time she pretended to tie her shoe. After turning the bike around, she was heading toward Corbett’s house again when a blue Mercedes passed her on the other side of the road. It was Corbett. She stopped, waited a few minutes, and then started toward his house again. There were no signs of movement outside. She stashed the bike in the hedge and carefully made her way to the back door, peeking into the windows. No movement inside, either.
After looking around for any other signs of life, she pulled herself up onto the second-story deck. She checked the sliding patio door. Unlocked. This is going to be almost too easy, she thought, until she heard the crunching of gravel in the driveway. She listened carefully as she leaned into the building, trying to conceal herself from view. She heard women’s voices chattering in a foreign language. It was Russian. She could make out a few words that indicated they were there to clean the house. She had to think fast. She couldn’t climb down without them seeing her. If she stayed in a fixed position, she might be able to avoid their attention. But for how long? After listening for a few more minutes, she realized that there were only two of them. Their voices trailed off as they entered the house. She could hear only mumbling from her vantage point on the deck.
Sasha checked her immediate surroundings. On the deck there were two chaise lounge chairs and a box, which probably contained the cushions for the chairs. With the agility of a cat, Sasha moved to the box and looked inside. As suspected, cushions. If she could maneuver the cushions to the chairs, she could stow away in the box until the cleaning crew left. Listening carefully for sounds from inside the house, she could tell that the women were in the kitchen below. The blare of a radio startled her. She held her breath. The music continued to play as the women kept yakking. She had to move quickly. One cushion. Then the other. Each set on top of a chair.
Sasha folded herself into the box and left the lid slightly cracked so she could breathe. She waited. Almost three hours went by. Her legs were getting numb. Then she heard doors slam and a car start up, followed by the same gravelly sound she had heard earlier. Five minutes more, then she should be free.
Peering out from the box, Sasha did a 180-degree scan of the backyard to make sure it was safe to come out. Once she steadied herself, she climbed out of the box and made a beeline to the patio door. Locked! One of the housekeepers must have done it. It was easy pickin’s but would add another minute or so to her job, and she didn’t know how soon Corbett would return. She still had to get into the office. Time was running out. Myra wanted answers. She and Annie would be in the city in less than two days.
Sasha picked the lock, slid the patio door open, slipped into the master bedroom, and placed one listening device between the bed and the sitting area and another in the enormous closet. She checked it for a safe. None. Then she placed bugs in the upstairs hallway and one in the guest bedroom. After swiftly making her way down the stairs, she placed two devices in the great room; one in the kitchen, near the snack bar; one in the utility room; and a third in the rear entranceway. She then made her way to the den. Sparse. One wall of bookshelves with drawers at the bottom but not many books; a solid piece of wood that served as a desktop, a Tycoon Executive chair, and two side chairs. Sasha went behind the desk and placed a bug near the phone. Landlines were still necessary in some places.
She pulled out one of the drawers at the bottom of the bookcase and grinned. There was a top-open security drawer safe embedded in the wood cabinet. It had a keypad lock. Most people didn’t think about wiping their fingerprints off. Sasha pulled out a little dusting kit and lightly brushed the keypad. Four numbers lit up: six, four, seven, and nine. Now she had to figure out the sequence. She checked his stats. His birthday! June 4, 1979. Ta-da! Mortgage papers for the house, his will, and a deed to a piece of land in Michigan. She snapped photos of the documents, sent them off, then carefully replaced the papers in the same order she had found them. She slid the drawer shut and headed to the rear door. After looking outside to check for any other visitors, she closed the door behind her and made her way back to her bicycle.
It was time to check on the doctor’s office. There was more traffic than there had been earlier as she pedaled her way to the village. Among the upscale shops and cafés was a building with a pristine white, frosted-glass door and the same logo that was displayed at the other offices of Live-Life-Long.
Sasha parked her bicycle at one of the racks across the street from the office. She would pull the same “I’m lost” ruse her colleagues had used. It was the easiest way to plant a listening device. No one ever expected it. When she entered, she noticed the same style, aroma, and sounds the other two had reported. But here, there was only one person sitting behind the counter. Must be a slow day, she thought.
When Sasha pulled off her cap, the hair of her blond wig framed her face. “Hello. I’m sorry to bother you, but could you point me in the direction of the Whaling Museum? I seem to be a little lost.”
“Of course, dear. When you leave the building, stay to your left. At the end of the block, make a left on Main Street. It’s just a ways down.” The woman hardly looked up as she spoke. Sasha wondered how many times the woman had been asked that question. Sasha surreptitiously placed the listening device on the back of the orchid plant, expressed her gratitude, and trotted out.
Checking for sound, Sasha plugged in her earbud. Yep. She could hear the woman rustling about. The phone buzzed. “Yes, Dr. Corbett. Today? No, we have no other patients on the calendar for today. Was there someone you wanted to see? Someone you wanted me to contact?” She listened a moment. “Okay. Fine. Thank you. I’ll lock up after you leave.”
From what Avery had shared, it seemed as if these men didn’t put in a whole lot of hours, except maybe Dr. Marcus. Still, Marcus didn’t appear to have any more patients than his partners. But, then again, the doctors had been surveilled for less than two days.
Sasha looked around for a café and tried to spot where Corbett had parked his car. It must be in the back. Sasha was waiting for the receptionist to leave, but then it occurred to her that she might be parked in the back, too, so she listened very carefully for the sound of nothing. Once she felt it was safe to make a move, she would ride her bike to the corner, stash it, then make her way to the back entrance on foot.
Satisfied the office was empty, Sasha carefully walked to the back door while checking for security cameras on poles, rooftops, trees. Not too bad. She scurried behind a few trees until she was directly across from the door. She needed to walk at an angle to avoid one on the corner of the building next door. She fired up her pack and checked for an alarm system. Yes, but not engaged. She wondered if the receptionist was still there. She had already had one close encounter that day. She’d gladly skip more of them if possible. That box was tight.
She picked the lock, disengaged the alarm system, and proceeded to place the listening devices in the same places Eileen and Avery had. And the security camera in the closet.