Chapter One
The age had its own momentum. Virgil Copeland could sense
it. Even here, now, as he waited anxiously for Gabrielle, it
tugged at him, whispering there was no going back.
He stood watch by the glass doors of the Waimanalo retreat
center, willing Gabrielle's car to appear at the end of the circular
driveway. He imagined it gliding into sight around the bank of
lush tropical foliage—heliconia and gardenias, ornamental ginger
and potted orchids—their flowers bright in the muted light
beneath heavy gray clouds.
But Gabrielle's car did not appear. She didn't call. All afternoon
she had failed to respond to Virgil's increasingly frantic
messages. He couldn't understand it. She had never been out
of contact before.
Randall Panwar stopped his restless pacing, to join Virgil in
his watch. "She should have been here hours ago. Something's
happened to her. It has to be."
Virgil didn't want to admit it. He t ...
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