| |
An executive from Hudson’s bank gets in touch with Derek who puts him onto me. I appreciate that Hudson has kept my contact details at arm’s length – in case the PI returns.
When I don’t get any calls from strangers over the next few weeks, it’s safe to assume Andrew didn’t share my number with his investigator. He only wanted the guy to find me – and thanks to Derek’s snipe hunt he doesn’t.
*
A few weeks after the barbecue, Lolana leaves us a message. The Coopers have asked her to pass on their news. Waipunalani has returned to the haven they thought it was. Sage is thriving. The renovations are less frenetic and Gracie’s parents are over for a month as planned, but thanks to the demolished pool house they’re staying in the ohana unit down the road. “They’ve got their house back, their daughter back – and their power back,” Lolana says.
When I arrange with her to send Hudson my photo of Rosemary’s rabbit as a keepsake, she tells us his father found a small box of mementos of Waipunalani, including a photo of Audrey with Rosemary. There was also a death notice in the box for Everett Turner from 2011.
After I text Marisa with the brief details of Turner’s death, she writes back. Good to know ET has gone to the eternal sauna. In my news, Rhett got his yearly call from Ralph on New Year’s Eve and told him about our little ceremony. Ralph was genuinely touched. Another soul saved. Thank you. Does she mean as well as her own? And it’s early days but Rhett and I are dating.
Derek saved more souls than he realised but after he closes the Surreal Deal, he doesn’t look back. Endings and beginnings ...
*
At last I’m able to focus on getting my website live. Derek organises a few friends to gather in a room at the back of a bar for a free mini-presentation of my Goals for Gold seminar. Wanda comes too. The drinks help everyone’s mood and I receive some effusive testimonials to kick-start my marketing.
Now I’m looking forward to a normal life in my new home: a thriving seminar business with paying clients, an ex who’s finally forgotten about me, and lastly, as I tell Derek over a Tropical Itch, “Nothing that even looks like a haunting.”
He laughs. “Not a chance.”
––––––––
§