65

The helicopter arrived midafternoon on Friday, and the contestants started saying their good-byes. To Finney, the warm island breeze felt heavier and stickier than normal. He noticed the sheen of sweat on everyone’s skin except that of the enigmatic Dr. Ando. Was the man even human?

Finney turned to Ando first, wished him the best, and expressed his great respect for the man. It was hard to think of the cruel fate that awaited this decent human being with the incurable bone disease. Ando shared his own respect for Finney.

The judge turned next to the Swami.

“My money’s on you, Judge O. And you know I’ve got good gambling instincts.”

Finney smiled, thinking about how much he would miss this guy. So much for my strategy of avoiding friendships with the other contestants.

“Come see me sometime,” Finney said.

“Count me in, Judge O.”

The two men shared an awkward moment of silence, the first time Finney had seen the Swami at a loss for words.

“Well,” Finney said. He held out his Bible. “I wanted you to have this.” The pages were dog-eared and the black leather cover was nearly worn off. “We never did finish the Gospel of John. You might want to start there.”

The Swami nodded his head slowly and seemed to be choking back a tear. Finney swallowed the lump in his own throat.

“That’s quite an honor,” the Swami said.

As they briefly embraced, the two card sharks took turns whispering their messages.

“Pinprick cipher, Gospel of John,” Finney whispered. His final encoded message contained a note for Nikki, telling her where to find the tape. And a few personal things as well.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” the Swami whispered in return. “There’s no real danger here.”

After the two disengaged, the Swami moved over to shake hands with Kareem Hasaan. “No hard feelings, big man,” the Swami said.

Finney turned to face Dr. Kline.

“The sailing lessons were my favorite part of the show,” she said. Her face betrayed no emotion.

“Mine too.”

“Good luck,” she said, keeping her voice light.

“Thanks.”

She hesitated for a moment, then gave Finney a quick hug. He had so much to tell her, but the other contestants were watching, the cameras were recording, and the helicopter was waiting.

She hesitated again, looking as awkward as Finney felt. “Well, better get going,” she said.

Finney grimaced. He hated good-byes, but especially this one. “Make sure you follow up with Preston Randolph on that possible television career,” Finney said. “You’ll make a phenomenal actress.”

As if to prove his point, Victoria Kline grew teary eyed, then nodded and turned away.

Twenty minutes later, Kline and the other contestants climbed off the helicopter and onto the hot asphalt landing pad on St. Thomas. A few of the islanders loaded the contestants’ belongings into a taxi that resembled a double-decker tour bus, and the contestants climbed aboard. After a ten-minute nail-biting ride on the left side of the road, the contestants arrived at a luxury resort hotel for the night, compliments of the show.

Fifteen minutes after she checked in, Dr. Kline returned to the front of the hotel, checked both directions, and caught a cab to a nearby marina. The speedboat captain was waiting for her. He helped her aboard, exchanged a few pleasantries, and started the motor. He drove slowly through the no-wake zone but within minutes had the boat skimming across the ocean at an exhilarating speed.

“How long?” Victoria yelled, straining to be heard.

“Thirty minutes, max,” the captain yelled back.

“Some people just can’t stay away,” she mumbled to herself.