Her shoulders were reddened from running on the beach, freckles standing out against her olive skin. She rubbed the oil all over, feeling a little refreshed by cleaning up, but not in the mood for some mysterious date with Alika. She was too keyed up about the undercover op at the papaya farm. She’d already tried to call and cancel and he wouldn’t take no for an answer, saying plans were already in motion.She flicked on some mascara along with some sparkly lip gloss and slipped on the Tahitian pearl earrings her aunt had given her for graduation. The Ni`ihau shell necklace Mac had given her never came off anymore. Instead of a dress, she pulled on narrow black jeans and a black silk tank top, slipping her feet into the new slingbacks.She heard an unfamiliar thrumming sound and hurried to the window. A black helicopter was approaching, the wind off the props vibrating the air and muting everything but its powerful roar. It wove back and forth as it settled toward the ground, rippling, then flattening the grass in the open area between her house and the Abacans’ in prop wash.
