the face, she turned her head back to watch the waves.
“Have you met any of the others?”
“In real life?” She shook her head. “You’re the first, and if we get out of this, you’ll be the last.” Disgusted with herself and him, she got up and dusted off her legs.
“You’re upset,” Sam said as he followed her up to the stone path. “Am I such a disappointment in person?”
“Not at all. You don’t have to impress me, Sam. Just help me get back home, and I’ll adore you forever.” She stopped outside the front entrance to the villa. “Maybe we should try walking the beach, see if we can spot any boats out there.”
“I think we should first try to establish communications with our captor,” he said as he reached for the door latch. “I may also be able to pick up some information from the interior.”
“May?” She glanced down at his hands. “On the Internet you said you had to wear gloves to keep from picking up everything about everything.” Or did you lie about that, too?
“My ability isn’t working as it has in the past. Here it seems to be limited, or perhaps muted. I’m not sure.” He didn’t sound concerned. “If it is fading, I certainly won’t complain, but I should use what I have left to see what I can learn about the man who brought us here.”
She heard the unasked question in his voice, but there was no way in hell she was confiding in him now. “My ability isn’t going to help us.” She walked inside.
He closed the door behind her. “I don’t wish to pry, Charlotte. I know how personal our talents are. But if there is anything you can do to improve our situation—”
“There’s nothing.” It wasn’t her fault she got stuck with the one ability that had absolutely no value on a deserted island, so why did she feel guilty? “Come on; I’ll give you a tour of the place.”
Inside the villa she took him to the large, well-equipped kitchen and showed him the generous quantities of food that had been stored for them. “No freezer, and no prepackaged or canned stuff in the pantry, but there’s a tank over there with live lobsters and maybe some oysters or clams.”
He sorted through the vegetables and fruit in the refrigerator bins. “Garlic, asparagus, gingerroot, avocados, peppers, carrots, peppers, pineapples, strawberries. Odd assortment.”
“The bins in the cabinets are filled with root vegetables,” she told him as he removed a gallon-size plastic container filled with an amber liquid and opened the lid. “What’s that? Apple juice?”
He sniffed the contents. “Honey.” He frowned. “This doesn’t make any sense. What other foods have you found?”
“I haven’t found any sugar or flour or baking stuff, but there’s a cabinet filled with spices over here.” She opened the cabinet. “They’re not labeled, but looks like lots of seeds, some dried herbs, different types of pepper.” She took out a plastic bag packed with what looked like long black bean pods and another filled with purple and reddish brown beans. “Either of these look familiar to you?”
“The long pods are vanilla bean, I believe.” He eyed the other bag. “The other might be cocoa.” When he put the container back in the fridge he took a black fig from the bin and began to break it open.
“No,” she said, taking it away from him and dropping it back in the bin. “We don’t know what’s in this stuff.”
He frowned. “It looked like a fig to me.”
“A fig that this wacko could have injected with more sedatives, or some kind of hallucinogen.” She closed the door to the fridge.
“I’m sure it hasn’t been tampered with,” he assured her, showing her his hands, and then looked up at the four large glass dome light fixtures. “Charlotte, are all the lights in the house electric?”
“Everything I’ve seen is.” She caught on to what he meant. “How do you have power on a deserted island?”
“If there were generators, I think we would have
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