turned to see the gate opening.

 

Out marched three beefy armed men, obviously security. Behind them was a

sand-colored golf cart with cognac-colored seats driven by another security man.

A second armed man sat next to him.

 

In the rear seat of the vehicle was an elderly man in a white robe and Panama

hat with a black band. Next to him sat a young woman in a pale blue sheer

cover-up.

 

The old guy was Ballard, Rogers was pretty certain. He was the right age, and

who else here would get a chauffeur-driven golf cart ride to the beach?

 

They drove down near the water and parked. The security men laid out a large

blanket, lounge chairs, a table, and a basket. Then they stepped back and formed

a ring around the man and woman as they climbed out of the vehicle, the woman

supporting the man.

 

She led him over to one of the chairs and helped him off with his robe.

Underneath he had on bathing trunks and a T-shirt. His body was reedy and his

chest sunken. He seemed particularly frail. She put sunscreen on his exposed

skin and settled him in his chair.

 

She then took off her cover-up, revealing a sea-foam green string bikini

underneath.