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Rain lashes. Wind howls. I huddle inside my raincoat, splashing through puddles, scrambling crabs as I dash for my cabin. I don’t think about Wyoming, or final moments, or a flask of Maker’s Mark when no one would’ve been the wiser.
I keep going. And maybe that’s a giant coconut crab crashing through the tall grass. And maybe that’s Crabby, fleeing for safety beneath my little slice of paradise. I’m too damn grateful to finally arrive home to contemplate anything else.
I barely have time to strip off my soaking wet clothes and towel off my hair. Still no answer from Twanow when I plug in my phone to charge. I collapse on my bed face-first.
I’m asleep before I even know it.
Banging wakes me up some time later. Minutes? Hours? I stagger groggily to the front door. I open it, already expecting it to be Vaughn. Is this when we have mad, passionate sex? If only I wasn’t so genuinely exhausted.
Except it’s Ronin, with his perfect cheekbones. I’m so confused I almost say, “No, no, you belong to Aolani.”
But before I totally embarrass myself, I register his grave expression.
“Get dressed. Grab a flashlight. Meet in the rec hall. Whole camp is now activated for duty. Charlie’s gone missing.”
CHAPTER 19
VAUGHN IS ALREADY BARKING OUT orders when I enter the rec hall, assembling staff members into groups of two and assigning them designated search areas. The pairs cycle through a table manned by Ronin and Aolani to gear up with heavy-duty flashlights, red safety whistles, and extra rain ponchos. Then they’re out the door.
I stumble slightly at the sight of the safety whistles, catch myself, soldier on.
I’m last in line. When I appear in front of the gray folding table that just hours ago held our movie projector, Vaughn points at a section on the map without looking up. “Runway. Watch your footing—the green patches are slippery in this weather.”
I don’t move. He taps the map. I remain stationary. He finally peers up. “What?” Then he notices it’s me, and his scowl deepens. I glance around. Most of the crew have now departed. Just Ronin and Aolani remain.
“When was Charlie last seen?” After my last conversation with Vaughn, I don’t feel a need to explain my line of questioning. “I never saw him at movie night.”
“Dinner.”
“Does he have a radio?”
“No. He signed back in right before dinner, returning the radio to its charger.”
“How did you discover he was missing?”
“I did.” Ronin appears beside us, Aolani in tow. “I had a question, went to his cabin, but he wasn’t there. Odd for this time of night. I did some more checking around. I can’t find him anywhere.”
I’m confused. “Isn’t it one in the morning?”
Ronin nods.
“So you went to his cabin at what, midnight? With a work question?”
“Charlie’s a night owl,” Ronin informs me. Given the lack of reaction on Vaughn’s and Aolani’s faces, apparently this is common knowledge.
“Vaughn says you have experience searching for missing persons,” Aolani speaks up. It’s the first time she’s spoken directly to me beyond a basic greeting. Her tone is cool. I don’t know if that’s how she always sounds or if she’s miffed about having to hear about my hobbies from someone else. Am I supposed to apologize? Offer an explanation? I don’t do my best thinking at one a.m. Finally, I nod in acknowledgment, and then I’m saved by Ronin continuing with his story.
“I checked his cabin—Charlie’s cell phone, raincoat, and Crocs are missing.”
“Maybe he hit the latrine or returned to the mess hall for a midnight snack?”
“I checked. I toured the bathrooms, dock, and maintenance shed when I didn’t find him in his cabin. Then, when he still hadn’t returned, I covered all the outbuildings. There’s no sign of him, and it’s been over an hour. In this weather, this late at night… Something’s wrong.”
“What about the UTVs?”
“One is missing.” Ronin and Vaughn exchange a look.
“Charlie wouldn’t take a UTV and not a radio,” Ronin begins, talking more to Vaughn than to me. Clearly, they’ve been over this. “He always follows proper safety protocols. He helped write them.”
