Kellen stopped pounding the mattress and walked toward Jamie. “Max and Rae are rebuilding the pickup.” She did not say, None of your business, although that was what she thought.

“Why?” Jamie held their basket of the day’s produce over her arm. “Why would you rebuild that…thing?”

“We can’t all have the talent for gardening.” Max sounded like he had his jaw clenched.

“It’s a petroleum-burning engine, the only one on the island. We don’t need that kind of environmental smog-maker here. We have the electric golf cart.” Jamie radiated indignation like a halo.

Deliberately Kellen turned the subject. “What did you bring us today?”

Jamie would not be diverted. “Really, you shouldn’t try to bring that thing back to life. The internal combustion engine is to blame for all of today’s problems.”

“That’s a sweeping statement.” Kellen put her hand on the basket’s handle.

Jamie resisted for a moment, then released and stepped back. “Rethink the truck. On Isla Paraíso, we’re saving the environment, not destroying it.”

Kellen leaned forward so she was face to face with Jamie. “We’ll worry about that when he gets it running.”

Jamie leaned back, then flounced away.

Kellen watched her go. Amazing how Jamie made her feel inferior, privileged and resentful, all at the same time.

Jamie stopped, looked up, pointed.

At the same time, Kellen heard a helicopter coming in fast and low.

Her heart started pounding. Why were they here? Was it good news at last? “Coast Guard,” she called to Max.

He extricated himself from the truck, and sounded as hopeful as she felt when he said, “My God. Do you suppose…?” He ran out.

Kellen and Rae followed. As the helicopter descended on a blast of air, Kellen absentmindedly began doing her finger exercises.

Like a hummingbird alighting on a limb, the helicopter settled on the edge of the lawn. The engine throttled back, the roar diminished, and the door opened to allow one of the Coasties to jump down. He surveyed Max, Kellen and Rae and as if he had every right, he asked, “Who are you?”

“We’re the Di Lucas. We’re living on the island for the summer,” Max said. “My family owns it.”

“Sure, I recognize you. I served with a couple of Di Lucas in San Diego.” He offered his hand. “Chief Petty Officer Juan Deung. Call me Juan.”

“Yes, we Di Lucas are a prolific and similar bunch.” Max shook hands with him.