Page 37 of Todd
Before he could respond, she melted back into the shadows, leaving him standing alone in the desert with the container of pills clutched in his hand and her words echoing in his heart.
It really is good to have you here with me.
This time, he didn’t need to analyze the meaning. He could feel the truth of it in every fiber of his being. Whatever happened next, whatever dangers they faced, they were facing them together.
And for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.
19
The massage room enveloped Sadie in an amber cocoon of tranquility. The gossamer curtains separating each massage cubicle filtered the afternoon light into streams across polished stone floors. The gentle symphony of water cascading over river rocks in hidden alcoves should have been soothing, but beneath the spa’s manufactured serenity, her nerves hummed with constant awareness.And the sound of water running made her want to pee.God, I’m so not cut out for this!
She lay face-down on the heated massage table, the Egyptian cotton sheet soft against her skin as skilled hands worked methodically along her shoulders and neck. Despite her bladder calling to her and her mission-focused mind, she couldn’t deny the relief flooding through muscles that had carried months of tension.I need to try to get a massage regularly when I get back home.
Thoughts of home brought to mind a blue-eyed distraction. Todd is here. Just miles away. Warmth moved through her chest, more intoxicating than the lavender and eucalyptus oils perfuming the air.
“How’s the pressure?” her therapist whispered, her voice barely audible above the ambient music that seemed to be piped into every corner of Serenity Dunes.
“Perfect,” Sadie murmured, though a late-night phone call and a moonlit meeting in the desert had fundamentally altered her definition of perfect. The therapeutic touch was exactly what her overworked body needed, but her heart craved strong, calloused hands that she remembered with devastating clarity.
A voice from the adjacent cubicle cut through her dangerous musings. “Oh, I don’t take the supplements. They’re hard for me to swallow.”
Melinda was in the next cubicle. Sadie’s pulse quickened with professional interest even as she maintained her relaxed posture. The wispy curtains between massage stations provided visual privacy but no sound barrier. It was one of the few design flaws in the spa that was proving unexpectedly useful.
“Oh, you must take them,” Melinda’s therapist replied, her soft tone carrying an edge of insistence that raised every alarm bell in Sadie’s trained mind. “Dr. Patel tells us that it’s the only way you can fully detox the brain. Your brain accumulates toxins just like your liver. The supplements give it a deep cleanse.”
Detox the brain.The phrase slithered through Sadie’s. Part of their orientation had struck her as curious, as Yelena regurgitated the marketing spin.“Our individually tailored supplements are revolutionary compounds that clear neural pathways of toxins. They remove heavy metals and environmental pollutants from brain tissue, enhancing cognitive clarity, memory, and mental sharpness. They can reverse brain fog and age-related cognitive decline.”
The other guests had expressed excitement over the anti-aging pills, but Sadie wondered why they weren’t marketed to the masses and were only available at this spa.
“Oh, well… I’m not really able to swallow pills without gagging,” Melinda continued, her voice tight with what sounded like genuine distress.
“Then they can give them to you in a liquid form,” the other therapist continued with practiced smoothness. “I’ll speak to Dr. Patel.”
“What’s in the supplements?” Melinda asked.
“We’re told it’s neurological agents and regenerative compounds. All the good things your brain needs. But for now, relax. And I’ll make sure I use the best oils to help you re-center your mind as your muscles relax. We also offer the benefits of transdermal delivery of compounds through skin.”
The conversation settled into therapeutic silence, but Sadie’s mind raced.Liquid form meant no chance to palm and dispose of.Whatever was in those supplements, the staff was determined to ensure every guest consumed them. Or they offered transdermal delivery…what the fuck does that mean?Her certainty was growing that Serenity Dunes harbored secrets darker than overpriced spa treatments.
Her thoughts drifted to the intelligence she’d gathered from security camera locations memorized during her pre-arrival research, monitoring noted during her midnight pool excursion, and staff routines precisely carried out. She needed access to those administrative offices, needed to uncover what Dr. Patel and his team were really doing to their isolated, vulnerable guests.
“You’re getting tense again, Sadie,” her therapist observed, applying deeper pressure to a knot between her shoulder blades.
She managed a rueful laugh instead. “Oh, sorry. My mind was wandering.”
With practiced discipline, she forced her muscles to relax and her breathing to deepen. The massage was nearly over, and she had more reconnaissance to complete before dinner. Everymoment of apparent compliance was a moment closer to the truth.
An hour later, Sadie emerged from the mineral baths with skin flushed pink from the heated water and hair twisted into a casual knot that looked effortless but would stay secure during potential physical activity. She’d changed into yoga pants and a fitted athletic top. She hoped her clothes projected the image of a health-conscious guest while allowing unrestricted movement if circumstances demanded it.
The small hand weights she palmed were her cover story, the perfect prop for a wealthy woman maintaining her fitness routine during a luxury retreat. They also served as impromptu weapons if needed. She snorted at the detail that would never occur to the spa’s pampered clientele but was second nature to someone with her background.
The corridors of Serenity Dunes branched like arteries from the main building, and Sadie moved through them with the easy confidence of someone who belonged. She smiled and nodded at passing guests, her expression radiant with the kind of post-treatment glow that cost thousands of dollars to achieve artificially.
Each turn brought new intelligence as she confirmed camera positions, assessed sight lines, and noted staff patterns. The black domes in the ceiling tracked her progress, but she gave them nothing suspicious to watch. She was just another guest taking her wellness seriously with a gentle walking workout.
The transition from guest areas to administrative spaces was marked by a subtle shift in decor. Gone were the flowing fabrics and soft, colored paintings. Brass plaques marked offices that she now passed. Staff lounge. Heads of departments were noted to share office space. Dr. Patel, Dr. Selenski, and Yelena Mirov had their own offices, side by side.
“Sadie?”
