Page 82 of Wild Idol
“Hopefully tomorrow.”
“Good. There’s been some new developments in the Sable Fox case.”
I lifted a curious brow. “I’m all ears.”
46
After a few days on Xaqualta, the AC felt cold in the hotel. Almost too cold. Phones ringing, the sounds of traffic, the over-hyped commercials on television. It was all too much. Sensory overload. It was overwhelming. I couldn’t imagine what the others were going through, having been on that island for months or years. Don’t get me wrong. I was glad to be back to civilization, but it was an adjustment.
In the morning, we grabbed breakfast in the hotel restaurant. We chowed down on ham and cheese omelettes, bacon, hash browns, and the works. It was good, but it wasn’t like the island. It wasn’t as fresh. It lacked the artistic flare of Xaqualta.
If I missed aspects of the island, I knew others did as well.
Tom Halford had taken the redeye. He arrived at the hotel a little after 10:00AM. We introduced him to the refugees, though we had lost a few during the night. I don’t know howthey planned on getting back to the island or what they would find. Sometimes you can’t save people.
We introduced Tom to the survivors and told them they were in good hands. Tom went over the reintegration plan and assured them they’d be taken care of during the adjustment phase. They wouldn’t have to worry about finances during the process. JD and I would assist.
Sunshine had contacted her parents and told them she was coming home. They hadn’t seen her in over a year. She and Whisper had been friends before joining Solomon. They were both from San Francisco.
“I guess this is goodbye,” she said as the time drew near for us to leave. JD and I had to get back to Coconut Key.
Sunshine looked up at me with those big blue eyes, still full of conflict. “I guess I should thank you for getting us off the island. There’s part of me that wishes you had never come there in the first place. It was perfect for a while.”
“It only seemed perfect,” I said.
Sunshine frowned. “I know. I’m still in denial.”
“It was always going to end.”
“Doesn’t everything?” She lifted on her tiptoes and gave me a kiss and a big hug. She held on tight for a few moments.
I almost didn’t want to let go.
“I think I’m gonna miss you,” she said.
“I’m a phone call away if you need anything.”
“Something tells me I’ll be calling. I guess I’m gonna have to get used to telephones and social media again.”
“Just because you’re back in civilization doesn’t mean you have to fall back into the same routines.”
“True,” she said.
“What are you going to do?”
“I guess I’m going to look for a job once I get situated. I still believe in the idea of disconnecting and living in a self-sustaining way. I can’t afford my own island, but maybe I can scrape and save and get a piece of land somewhere. Start my own community,” she said with a wink.
“Just don’t become a creepy cult leader who traffics heroin.”
“I think I’ll avoid that part.”
We checked out of the hotel, caught a cab to the FBO, and waited for our plane to arrive. JD had chartered a direct flight to Coconut Key.
Ivy caught a ride with us.
Erickson and Faulkner had found her father, the real Mr. Wellington, hogtied and gagged in a closet in his home. He had been there the entire time and was on the brink of death, suffering massive dehydration. His kidneys and other organs were on the verge of failure. It was a miracle he was still alive. He had been taken to the hospital, where he was currently in an intensive care unit. Mr. Wellington had a long road ahead of him. His muscles had wasted away, and he had pressure sores from being in one position for so long. He had lost consciousness and was dealing with a slew of issues.
With any luck, Ivy would find some resolution. At this point, his survival and long-term prognosis were up in the air.
