Chapter 14
Glancing at the screen, he was surprised to see Vivian’s name. Logan’s wife had everyone’s contact information, of course, but he couldn’t recall ever receiving a personal message from her. His pulse quickened with an inexplicable sense of foreboding as he tapped the notification.
Just heard from Sadie. Says the spa is fancy and ridiculous. She’s good… just thought you’d like to know.
Todd read the message three times, each word sinking deeper into his consciousness. The casual tone couldn’t disguise the message’s true purpose. Vivian was telling him specifically because she knew he’d want to know about Sadie’s well-being. The realization hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.
Why would Vivian text me specifically about Sadie? Cory’s words from earlier that evening echoed in his mind with devastating clarity. “Everybody knows.”
He’d been incredulous when his teammate had made that claim, but this text was undeniable proof.
Even Vivian, Logan’s perceptive, observant wife, had recognized that Todd would be particularly interested in Sadie’s status and safety.
The careful facade he’d constructed over eighteen months had apparently been as transparent as glass.
Dropping his chin to his chest, he stared at the phone cradled in his palms and shook his head in disbelief. All this time, I thought I was protecting both of us by maintaining professional distance. And everyone knew exactly how I felt about her anyway.
The irony tasted bitter on his tongue. By immediately rejecting any possibility of pursuing something deeper with Sadie, by not even giving her a choice in the matter, he might have sabotaged any hope they’d ever had of becoming something more than cordial colleagues dancing around unspoken desires.
The urge to hurl his phone across the room was almost overwhelming, but instead, he leaned back against the headboard and forced his breathing to steady. The worn wood was cool against his bare shoulders, grounding him as his thoughts spiraled between regret and possibility.
Before his courage could desert him, he pulled up the contact information for Sadie’s secure LSIMT phone.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard for several heartbeats, his pulse hammering against his throat as he composed and deleted several messages.
Finally, he settled on something that felt honest without being too revealing.
Vivian said you got there safely. Hope all is well, even if it’s fancier than what you have around here. Just thought I’d let you know that you’re missed.
He hit send before he could second-guess himself, then continued staring at the screen like it might reveal the secrets of the universe.
She could already be asleep, or have silenced her phone for the night.
The message might sit unread until morning, or she might choose not to respond at all. The uncertainty was torture.
His phone chimed almost immediately, and his heart nearly stopped.
Surprised to hear from you, but thanks. This place is weird, but I got to sit in a mud bath today.
The response sent electricity racing through his nervous system. She’d replied quickly, and while her tone was cautious, she hadn’t shut down the conversation. The image of Sadie sitting in a bathtub full of mud struck him as so absurd that he couldn’t help but smile as he typed again.
What the hell is a mud bath?
It’s a bathtub filled with mud.
And you sat in it?
It was supposed to be restorative. Volcanic ash or some such nonsense.
Was it restorative?
Not really, although it was a strange, quite squishy experience. And dirty.
Todd snorted with laughter at her dry commentary, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
He could picture her expression perfectly—that subtle eye roll she deployed when faced with something she found ridiculous but was too polite to openly mock.
The mental image made his chest warm with affection and longing.
He was crafting another response when his phone suddenly vibrated with an incoming call. Seeing Sadie’s name on the display sent shock waves through him, and he fumbled to answer before it went to voicemail.
“Hello?” His voice came out rougher than intended, betraying the effect her unexpected call was having on him.
“Hey.” Her familiar voice carried through the speaker. “Guess I caught you by surprise, huh?”
“No, no… not really. Well, kind of… because I... you haven’t... I just...” He stumbled over his words like a teenager asking someone to prom, heat flooding his cheeks at his own ineptitude.
The silence hung between them, loaded with all the careful distance they’d perfected.
Their conversations had slowly moved from strictly professional or group settings, where she might contribute a witty observation or sarcastic quip, to talking when it was just the two of them in the bunkhouse or at work.
But even when they found themselves alone in moments he both craved and dreaded, she never ventured into personal territory.
The fact that she had not only responded to his text but actually called him sent warmth spreading through his body, making him grateful he’d found the courage to reach out first.
“Is everything okay there?” His voice was tentative, weighted with careful restraint. He was terrified of saying something that might offend her, of inadvertently destroying this fragile bridge they seemed to be building.
“Yeah, I just thought it was easier to call than to keep texting.” Her tone was casual, and over the phone, he couldn’t read her expression.
“Yeah, sure. That makes perfect sense.” He cringed at how awkward he still sounded.
More silence stretched between them, filled with the weight of everything they weren’t saying. Desperate to keep her on the line to prolong their conversation, he seized on the safest topic available. “So what kind of fancy things are they doing at the spa besides mud baths?”
She snorted. “After the mud bath, I got to shower off all the sludge, then soak in a mineral bath that bubbled. Then I had a massage, followed by dinner that probably cost more than most people spend on groceries in a month.”
The mention of a massage sent an unwelcome spike of jealousy through his system.
Was the massage therapist male? The thought of another man’s hands exploring the curves and planes of her body, discovering the silky texture of her skin that he remembered with devastating clarity, made his jaw clench with possessive fury he had no right to feel.
While his mind spiraled down that particular rabbit hole of torment, she continued speaking, her voice carrying a note of bemused exasperation.
“It’s just that most people here seem like the kind of wealthy person who probably does this sort of retreat every few months as routine maintenance.
Although there is one that seems out of place, like me. ”
“Well, you just got there,” he managed, pushing aside images of faceless massage therapists with their hands on her body.
“You’ll probably meet some people and make friends soon.
” Even as the words left his mouth, he wished desperately that he could be there with her instead.
He imagined sharing meals, exploring the facility, and laughing at the absurdity of volcanic ash treatments.
She barked out a laugh that sent his pulse racing with its familiar music.
“You must be kidding. They don’t encourage socializing here.
Everything’s focused on individual regimens supposedly tailored to each person’s unique spiritual journey.
We even eat at a table by ourselves, so there’s no chatting with each other.
” Her tone made it clear what she thought of that particular concept.
“Seriously? That sounds ominous.”
“It’s weird here, Todd. They serve some kind of herbal tea after each treatment. They call it a cleanse, but I think it’s nasty. It tastes like grass. Old grass. Old mown grass that’s been sitting in the sun for a while. Not that I know what old grass tastes like, but you know what I mean.”
He snorted at her description.
“It’s only been one day, but this place creeps me out.”
The words hit him like a physical blow, knocking the mirth out of him.
In all the time he’d known her, he’d never heard Sadie admit to being unsettled by anything.
She was one of the most competent, fearless people he’d ever encountered.
If something at the spa was making her uncomfortable, every alarm bell in his head started clanging.
He wanted to tell her to be careful but didn’t want her to interpret that as a sign she wasn't competent.
“Well, like I said, you’re missed here.” The response was inadequate, but he was still processing her admission and trying not to let his concern bleed into his voice.
“Only because you’re stuck doing the work I normally handle.” Her deflection was typical of Sadie, pushing aside any suggestion that her absence might be felt on a personal level.
He wanted to admit that he missed her for reasons that had nothing to do with technology expertise and everything to do with the way her presence brightened every room she entered.
Instead, he managed a chuckle that sounded strained even to his own ears.
“Yeah, it’s definitely more challenging without your analytical skills and cyber prowess to back us up. ”
Another stretch of silence filled the space between them.
Finally, she spoke again, her voice softer than before.
“Well, I just thought I’d call since you were nice enough to send that text.
God knows there’s no one here to talk to.
I should probably get some sleep. But... um... thanks for thinking of me.”
I think about you constantly, he wanted to say. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thought before I fall asleep. I’ve been thinking about you every day for eighteen months. Instead, he only managed, “Anytime...”
She disconnected after saying good night, leaving him holding a silent phone and drowning in regret for all the things he should have said but hadn’t found the courage to voice.
He stared at the dark screen for several minutes, replaying every word of their conversation and cataloging the subtle changes in her tone, the moments when her carefully maintained distance had seemed to soften. But her comment about the spa kept echoing in his mind. “This place creeps me out.”
Sadie wasn’t easily intimidated or unsettled. Years of CIA operations had honed her instincts to razor-sharpness. If something at Serenity Dunes triggered her internal warning system, there might be a direct link to the missing Natalia Benedetto.
Moving to his desk, he opened his laptop and typed “Serenity Dunes Spa Resort” into the search engine. He’d researched them from the moment the assignment came in, but now wanted to see what she was experiencing.
The screen filled with professionally photographed images that looked like they’d been torn from the pages of Architectural Digest. A world-class dining facility with crystal chandeliers and white tablecloths.
Private rooms that resembled luxury hotel suites.
Yoga pavilions overlooking desert vistas.
Treatment rooms that promised to transport guests to states of transcendent bliss.
The marketing materials painted the facility as an oasis of sophistication in the Arizona desert, a place where stressed executives and celebrities could retreat from the demands of their high-pressure lives. Everything looked pristine, peaceful, and exactly what the name embodied… Serenity Dunes.
Sadie had spent weeks studying everything she could about the spa, but Todd had left most of the research to Timothy since he was the one accompanying her. Moving past the glossy promotional content, he searched for reviews and firsthand accounts from former guests.
Most of the testimonials were glowing, filled with praise for the transformative experiences and life-changing revelations achieved during stays at the spa. But scattered among the effusive reviews were a few comments that gave him pause.
One reviewer mentioned feeling uncomfortable with the transportation requirements, as guests weren’t allowed to drive to the facility but had to meet designated buses at predetermined locations, ensuring that no one had access to personal vehicles during their stay.
The reviewer had initially found this policy strange but had ultimately decided it contributed to the “digital detox” experience.
Another guest had expressed mild concern about having to surrender all electronic devices upon arrival, including laptops and phones, but concluded that the enforced disconnection had been beneficial for their mental health.
A third review mentioned that the staff seemed unusually interested in guests’ personal lives and backgrounds, conducting extensive interviews under the guise of customizing treatment programs. But again, the reviewer had chalked it up to exceptional customer service.
Individually, each comment could be dismissed as the minor quirks of an exclusive facility dedicated to providing immersive experiences.
But taken together, they painted a picture of an operation that exercised unusual levels of control over its clientele by isolating them from outside contact, gathering detailed personal information, and ensuring they had no means of independent transportation.
Todd’s military training and security background made him naturally suspicious of any organization that sought to limit people’s freedom of movement and communication. Add Sadie’s instinctive unease, and he felt sure Serenity Dunes might be something other than what it appeared to be.
One thing was for certain—tonight’s conversation had changed something fundamental between them. For the first time since that disastrous morning when he’d called their night together a mistake, she’d reached out.
It wasn’t much, but it felt like a beginning. And Todd was no longer willing to pretend that what had started when they first met couldn’t be built upon, developed into something real and lasting and worth fighting for.
He just hoped he wasn’t too late, and that whatever was making Sadie uncomfortable at the spa wouldn’t put her in any danger while he figured out how to win back the trust he’d thrown away with a few carelessly spoken words and misguided notions of protecting them both.