For the NW Pixie Girls,
Who threatened an initiation ceremony but were sweet enough never to follow through.
Love you girls!
Claire Sampson looked out over the early morning sunrise on the eastern shore of Oahu and lifted the mug of coffee to her lips. Waves rolled gently against the white sand just yards in front of her, and a gentle breeze blew through the palms above as she sipped the steaming brew. But her attention wasn’t focused on the serene view; it was locked on the boat, probably a mile off shore, its sails flying as it drifted slowly through the water, cutting a course for more exotic lands. Tahiti, Fiji, maybe even Australia.
Is that where her bottle was headed? Was she wasting time on this Hawaiian island?
Pushing her glasses back up her nose, she turned away from the boat, then headed back inside the bungalow she’d rented while on sabbatical. Officially, the University of Florida thought she was taking time off to research local Hawaiian folklore and its role in the history of the islands, but that was just her cover. The truth was an obsession she couldn’t let go, even when her mind told her this kind of search would bring her nothing but trouble.