Sag Harbor
Sasha sat in a small sedan in the Hampton Jitney parking lot. Corbett did not get off, so she followed the bus to the next town. And then the next. And several more. He finally stepped off at the last stop, in Sag Harbor. He must have called ahead, because a taxi was waiting for him at the curb. Pulling down the brim of her baseball cap, she tailed the taxi from about a hundred yards. Traffic was very light, with just a few cars passing in the other direction. No one was behind her.
The taxi pulled into a driveway, but she could not see the house from the street, just the hint of a blue Mercedes through the hedges. Every property had privet hedges to block the view of the house. She would have to return on foot and hope there was no security fence. She looked around. Nope. Just the privet.
It was still early in the evening, and she wondered if anyone was in the house or if he was going to go out again. She would just have to wait and see. But where? She noticed a FOR SALE sign a few houses back. Maybe that house was vacant. She would check it out. After pulling her cell from her pocket, she called the number on the sign but got a recording. Sasha decided to take a chance and pull into the driveway of the house, pretending she was interested in possibly buying it. Even though her small rental car would make someone question whether or not she could afford such a large house and in that neighborhood, she decided if she were to encounter someone, she would say she was scouting out property for her employer. Yes, Sasha was quick on her feet. Avery Snowden knew how to hire the best.
She turned her car around and proceeded to the privet-shielded house. There was nothing in the driveway and no visible activity in the house. Just a lockbox on the front door for the multiple listing. Perfect. She would park the car there after dark. She hit the button on her fake Apple watch to check in with Avery.
“Target arrived. I’ll send more info after I scope out any security issues,” Sasha said to her wrist. “It’s pretty sparse out here as far as human activity is concerned. Difficult to stay inconspicuous.”
“I’m dealing with the same situation but got a utility truck. I’m parking it on the side of the road.”
“Excellent solution. I am going on foot in an hour or so. Will probably be on my bike tomorrow. I’ll check back with you later.”
“Roger that.” Avery ended the call.
Sasha waited in the driveway for another hour. Still no one on the premises. It was early in the season, so the summer crowds were not around yet. Confident that she was alone, Sasha slipped behind the car and changed into what she referred to as her “sleuthing suit.” Same as Avery’s: black, except she wore leggings. After checking to see that all her equipment was blinking green, she shut the flap of her gear bag and carefully made her way back to Corbett’s property. She could tell that the neighbor to his right was not home. Probably just a vacation home for someone in the city. The place was dead, which provided a very good opportunity for Sasha to walk much of the perimeter along the privet hedges. She pulled out her night-vision glasses and placed an earbud in one ear to pick up any frequencies that would indicate security cameras, invisible fencing, or alarm trips. She heard a slight hum, which let her know that though there was a security system in the house, it was not engaged at the moment. Sasha figured he would set the alarm when he went to bed or went out. She waited. No dogs. No other cars. Just Corbett.
Sasha moved to a position from which she could see the entire kitchen, which opened to a great room. She had a clear shot of what appeared to be the main living area. Corbett’s blazer was draped over the wing chair where the duffel bag sat. He was still wearing the same trousers and shirt. She surveyed him as he went over to the wet bar and fixed himself a cocktail. He then reached into the duffel bag and pulled out what appeared to be a large catalog. Focusing her binoculars, Sasha could read the cover: Christie’s Auction and Private Sales. Summer Offerings. She took a photo and e-mailed it directly to Avery with a note: Shopping list? Avery forwarded it to Charles, who was compiling all the intel.
Sasha watched Corbett for a few more minutes, while he sat and thumbed through the catalog, taking sips of his cocktail every few minutes. The expression on his face was ecstatic. Must be something very special. Usually, men had that look on their face only when they were about to have sex or had just had sex. Some kind of jubilation. She wondered what could turn a man on in an auction catalog. Never mind. She didn’t want to go there. She made her way around the rest of the privet, taking photos of the entrances. She knew they would be designated on the blueprints, which were waiting to be downloaded onto her computer, but an actual visual was always best.
Sag Harbor was once a whaling village. Over the past century, it had become a haven for wealthy industrialists during the summer months. This old fishing community was now filled with high-end boutiques, the same ones that could be found on Fifth Avenue and Rodeo Drive. Unless you were a megastar with a net worth over twenty million dollars, you had a small historic cottage on less than an acre of land. If you wanted to remodel it, you were limited when it came to what you could do on the outside, and it could cost hundreds of thousands to renovate. A lot of that 1880s wood could get rotten over the decades. Centuries. If you wanted to say you lived in the Hamptons, you had to pay the price and play by the rules, and these little towns had lots of them.
Surrounding the quaint hamlet were acres of estates and cottages alive with tulip trees, the tallest hardwood on the East Coast. This made it easy for Sasha to find ample locations from which to peer into the second floor of the house. She followed Corbett’s movements as he turned on the light in the hallway, then the ones in the master bedroom suite. Not any sign of a feminine influence. Maybe he was too much of a narcissist to have a girlfriend, even as wealthy as he was.
Sasha snapped a few more photos. The small balcony off the bedroom could provide easy access, so she took several shots at different angles. No security cameras. She guessed that since it was over 140 miles from New York City, and not necessarily an easy trip on a two-lane highway, they didn’t get a lot of lowlifes showing up in Sag Harbor. Made sense. It was a long haul, so someone had to be motivated enough to make that trip. Sasha thought for a moment. Except for several murders, all of which were about sex or money or both. Another type of white-collar crime. Domestic violence. She immediately gave thanks for people like Myra and the sisters. At least some women would get justice.
After observing Corbett for another hour, she saw him go into the bathroom and return wearing a robe and slippers. Was that some sort of a family crest on the toe? Seriously? Who was he trying to kid? They didn’t know a whole lot about the trio of scumbags they were dealing with, but they were learning new info every day. And one thing they did know was that there were no aristocrats in Corbett’s family tree.
It looked like he was in for the evening. Sasha took a good look around. No one in sight. She climbed down from the tree, returned to her car, and headed back to her motel. She needed to check on the blueprints of the office. That would be tomorrow’s target.