The strange sounds of the birds she wasn't used to penetrated her sleep once again and she opened her eyes, staring up at the large fan. She heard a muffled voice and she slid out of bed, grabbing her gown. Chase was leaning on the kitchen counter, phone to his ear. He turned as she came into the kitchen, his face serious and focused, and he held up a hand in greeting.

"That was a member of my network," he said, shutting the phone off. "Three men arrived on this morning's flight and checked into a hotel in Soufrière. First thing they did was flash your picture to the concierge." He brought a plate of sweet rolls to the table and sat. "The players are assembling, Paula."

"I know you'll make one of your derogatory remarks, but can't you notify the St. Lucian police?" He looked up in silent prayer. "Fine. It's a bad idea, but just sitting here doesn't work for me." Her face flushed.

The buzzing of the phone stopped his retort. "Yes? . . . How long? . . . No, just check in when things change." He put his phone down. "Guess sitting here will be getting more exciting. Our visitors have been flashing photos of both of us all over, so far without luck, but if they add money to the question, things could change rapidly." He halted her speaking with a raised hand. "My network is following them, and they are loyal. However, the people they sometimes depend on, not so much. Money talks."

"That's why you said for your caller to check in." She paced back from the window, hugging herself.

"Yes. Until then, how about a bit of sun on the porch?"

"I'm not dressed yet."

"Best way to get a bit of sun," he grinned, as her forehead creased, and she marched back to her bedroom.

******

"You get that crap cot tonight, Jones." The large man jammed his hands into his gluteus medius, and arched his back, groaning. "No more rock, paper, scissors, shit."

"We'll take turns as long as we're here, now listen up you two. The bartender at that resort we visited recognized the picture of Chase, so we know for sure he's on the island, and we know the broad came down a few days ago."

"It's a big island, Carver, and a lot of jungle."

"Yeah, well now that we know he's here, Doc can squeeze some of his connections to narrow down our hunt. If he's living here there'll be a record."

"If he ain't? Maybe he's just visiting."

"There will still be a record, Fitzy - passport control, and Doc will find it." Carver gulped down the last of his beer and belched loudly. "Meanwhile, we keep pokin' around here."

The balance of the morning was spent in and around the town, showing anyone and everyone the pictures and asking questions. When they packed it in and returned to their hotel room, there was a message waiting.

"Confirmation from Doc. Chase is definitely on the island. When he first got here he checked into a Sandals resort, left after two nights and disappeared."

"But he is still here on the island?" Jones pressed.

"Yeah. Doc figures he took the two nights to suss out a place off the grid. A local rental maybe." Carver leaned on the back of his chair. "So, our next move is to find a library with back issue papers and magazines and check out the ads from two years ago."

"Jesus, Carver, what are the odds of finding anything there?" Fitz waved the idea away. "Christ he coulda found a notice on a lamp post."

Jones nodded his agreement. "What about the phone company?"

"Already tried. Doc said it was no go. The island changed their whole system a while ago. Merged with another outfit that was big throughout the Caribbean."

"He'd use burners anyway." Jones decided. "I still think knocking on local doors is the best bet."

Fitz pushed his sunglasses up on his nose and stretched his legs. The large umbrella over their table kept most of the glare at bay, but looking out beyond it was still blinding. Jones drained his bottle of Piton beer and clunked it on the table.

"Wonder how Carver's enjoying his library search?"

"Waste of bloody time." Fitz scoffed. "I think that little honey at the resort was our best lead so far."

"Your best lead you mean. She only said she thought she recognized him from staying there. We already knew that."

"Just saying--" Fitz paused and sat up. "Here comes Carver."

"Busy are we?" Carver stopped at the table, glaring at his men.

"We just got here," Jones said,

"And you gulped down a whole bottle before you even sat, eh?" He waved off the protest and pulled up a chair.

Carver had gone to the library, chatted up a lovely old dear who referred him to a real estate friend, who in turn provided him with a list of private island rentals gleaned from all the papers and local posting sites.

Jones looked at the sheets and back at Carver. "I sure as hell hope you don't expect to run all these down."

"Won't have to. All those with the asterisk beside them are gone, and I'm pretty sure those timeshares wouldn't be his first choice."

"Still a big list," Fitz noted.

"Listen, you two, this isn't a vacation, it's a paid operation. Now we'll split up the names and start phoning. Sort these out while I get a beer."

"Yeah, I'd like . . ." Fitz sagged as Carver paid no attention. "Gimme a page." He snapped at his partner.

******

Paula had tried to relax, the sun and the view exerting all the influence possible, but even the bird songs and the light breeze failed, as she listened to Chase on the phone with his different island contacts. When he finally came out to join her on the porch, she sat up just in time to receive a large glass of wine, deflecting her anxious curiosity.

"Our friends have been busy. They are tracking rentals from when I first arrived."

"Will they find you here?" Her breathing quickened with her sudden concern.

"If they're any good, but it'll take them some time. This is the third place I've stayed, and I got this through word of mouth, so they won't find any record too easily."

"Too easily?" The concern still noticeable.

"Like I said, if they're good." He sipped some wine and put his feet up on the lounge. "I won't lie, Paula. They'll find us eventually."

"How can you be so calm about it?" Her voice rose and she almost spilled her wine.

"There's nothing to be gained in shouting fire. We'll still have an advantage even if they do find us."

"You keep saying that, but how? How do we have an advantage?"

"Enjoy your wine and then I'll show you."

The wine was finished – enjoyed, not so much – and now she was following him on foot around the rugged property. He pointed out a few birds, explaining which one's she had heard first thing in the morning, and cautioned to watch for any snakes. He hadn't seen any, but the fer-de-lance was deadly, and hard to spot because of their earth colour. Paula practically walked in his shoes she stayed so close.

He stopped and asked her to look around. "Look everywhere – do you see anything?"

"Snakes!"

"No," he laughed. "Just look around carefully." She did as asked, then just shrugged ignorance.

"What am I looking for?"

"Never mind." He beckoned her to follow. Several repetitions at different spots around the property had her becoming annoyed and hot, and he led her back to the house.

"Well I learned absolutely nothing, so would you explain, please."

"Come here." He opened a large cupboard revealing a large screen broken into several images, and played with some switches. Paula stepped closer, her eyes darting over each image, mouth hanging open.

"Motion activated cameras and a permanent recording feature. You should have seen some of the birds and animals I've captured."

"That's us just a while ago!"

"Right. We activated all those different cameras by just walking in the area. So you can see, nobody can get close without us knowing."

"But you'd have to be looking here." She declared.

He closed the cupboard and flipped a switch on the wall beside it. Immediately, a soft ring sounded throughout the house, and a series of small red lights flickered as well.

"That's what alerts me when it's on auto. This switch is just a manual check that the system is working." He flipped it off and led her back to the porch. "Now, what would you like for lunch?"