Page 66 of Still See You Everywhere

“No,” all three inform me. Well, well.

As the dead woman walking, I have one final request. “Radio. I’ll carry it.”

Vaughn removes the one hanging around his own neck and drapes it over mine. It feels like a formal, if not ominous, changing of the guard.

“I can grab another from my office,” he mutters.

He shows me how to work the volume and channel selection. I nod while telling myself that radios have no odor, hence it’s impossible that the one dangling across my chest smells like him.

We now have a plan of attack, but nobody seems happy about it. If anything, Aolani appears more subdued, while Ronin has that tight, shuttered look on his face.

I recall my earlier conversation with Vaughn regarding the string of accidents. My prediction that something worse would happen soon, probably something Charlie couldn’t fix. Charlie’s sudden disappearance certainly fits the bill. That makes me glance sideways at Vaughn. What are the odds I say something like that to him and only him, and then it comes true?

“Get moving,” Vaughn commands gruffly. “Sooner we know, sooner we know.”

He moves to the supply table, handing me two backup flashlights, extra rain ponchos, an entire medical kit—nothing to worry about there—and emergency warming blankets.

“Just in case,” he says.

Yeah, definitely nothing to worry about.

I follow Aolani out to the row of parked UTVs. Where there were once three, there are now two, meaning once we take one and Ronin the other, the rest of the camp will have no means of transportation. And if none of us return?

I so want off this fucking island.

Aolani turns the key, firing up the first jungle-grade golf cart. I climb inside, arranging the supplies at my feet. At the last moment, Aolani pauses, then exits the vehicle long enough to return with two hefty walking sticks, which she lays in the back.

“To keep us from slipping and falling,” I deduce.

“That, and for the coconut crabs. This is the time of night they like to hunt.”

And on that cheery note, we are off and running.

THE RAIN AND wind seem to have calmed, but that’s to say they’ve gone from hurricane to gale force. Palm fronds snap above, while whipping gusts pelt our faces with rain and debris. My hair starts out in a ponytail but quickly turns into a free-flowing mane. Beside me, Aolani isn’t having any better luck, her own dark strands lashing across her face. I keep my eyes half shut and a tight grip on the door as she careens around one muddy corner, plows through a vast puddle, then heaves us forward.

It’s still eighty degrees outside, but my teeth are chattering while each jostling motion of the UTV grates against my bones.

“So,” I say at last, trying to break the mood. Aolani is definitely operating on the angry side of midnight. Is that because she’s worried about Charlie, mad in general, or perhaps pissed about me spending yesterday on a private adventure with the boyfriend she swears isn’t her boyfriend? That’s the question. “I know of you,” I forge ahead now. “You know of me. But we’ve never really spoken, so just to catch up, how about I tell you all my deep, dark secrets, then you can tell me yours?”

Aolani doesn’t answer, gaze fixed straight ahead as the jungle waves wildly around us.

“I’ll go first. My name is Frankie Elkin. I go by she/her. I’m a Virgo. Let’s see, I was born in California but now live nowhere at all. I prefer the life of a rolling stone, moving from town to town picking up bartending gigs and working missing persons cold cases. Mostly, I search for people no one else is looking for. And you?”

Aolani finally flicks a glance in my direction. “None of that is secret; I’d already heard as much from Vaughn.”

“Oh. Then… I’m afraid of snakes.”

She gives me a look, then has to quickly refocus as she jerks us around a fallen branch. I grab the ‘Oh shit’ handle, muttering under my breath. Are we close? It feels like we’ve already been out in the storm forever. But the ride had seemed a solid distance the first time around, so I’m assuming that puts tonight’s trek somewhere around the length of eternity.

“Your name is Aolani Akamai, AO to your friends?”

She doesn’t take the bait. I forge ahead. “Architect, working what I’m guessing would be a career-making project. If it isn’t blocked by any findings made by Ronin, the state’s investigating archaeologist who is definitely more than a friend.”

Now she huffs from the driver’s seat. “It’s no one’s business.”

“At this point, I think it’s everyone’s business. And hardly a secret,” I add.

“We are both professionals. Shit!” She slams on the brakes. We slide to a stop before a giant blue beast that waves two massive claws at us. Aolani flickers the headlights at the coconut crab. It seems to take the hint and lumber to the side, where it takes a final moment to shake its fist. I shudder and lean away. She guns us forward.

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