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command, the house lights came up about halfway, bathing the room in a warm glow that was not enough to reveal the dirt on the floor.
    In the illumination, she knew where to look for the man who was watching her. She intended to flick her gaze right by him. Instead, she stopped abruptly, taking him in.
    He was sitting at a table in the back, dressed in a dark T-shirt and jeans, one of his legs stretched out at the side of the table. He looked tall and tanned, with brown hair streaked by the sun. His eyes were large and dark—watching her with an intensity that made her throat tighten. Yet at the same time, she saw something vulnerable in his gaze, as though he was as wary of her as she was of him.
    Unbidden, an image swam into her mind—the two of them standing together on that broad, windswept plain, the only two living beings in an uninhabited world. She wore a gauzy green dress. And he was naked to the waist, his broad chest covered by a mat of sun-bleached hair. When he pulled her body against his, the contact was electric.
    Stop it, she ordered herself. With a mental shake, she banished the fantasy from her mind before it could suck her under and break the concentration she needed to get through her act.
    A woman in the audience shifted in her seat, and Anna realized she had been standing mute for several seconds. Clearing her throat, she said to the room in general, “Thank you for joining me. I see some of you have been here before. Welcome back.” She smiled, hoping that the facial expression looked genuine.
    She had delivered this patter a thousand times. And she was good at it. Smooth. And lucky she could function on automatic pilot.
    â€œIf you’re just joining the show, you’re probably wondering what the hype on that poster outside is all about. Of course it was designed to lure you inside so you could enjoy the island drinks the Sugar Cane Club serves. But now that you’re here, let’s boogie.”
    Appreciative laughter rippled thorough the small show room, and she knew that the vacationers gathered in front of the stage were on her side. They’d give her the benefit of the doubt—until she screwed up.
    â€œThis is an audience participation event. So I’m going to ask you to do some of the heavy lifting. If you’d like to volunteer to be part of my act, I can tell you things about yourself. It works like this: My assistant will walk around with a tray. If you like, you can put some personal item on it. Something that you’ve owned for a while. Like a watch or a ring or a key chain. Don’t worry, I’m not using my act as an excuse to take possession of your property. But if you’d like to leave something behind, make it appealing. Diamond rings are always good.”
    Once again laughter rippled, and she smiled. “I’ll pick up some of the objects from the tray. And when I do, I’ll be able to share some of your memories. It’s as simple as that. So if you’d like to give it a try, pass me those rings and watches.”
    Etienne took the tray from her, then stepped down to the level of the audience and began to walk among the tables.
    At first, nobody responded, but she was used to a bit of reluctance.
    â€œDon’t be shy,” she encouraged, knowing that it would take only one man or woman to get the ball rolling.
    A woman handed over a scarf patterned with green leaves. After that, a flood of earrings, watches, and key chains followed.
    Anna watched closely. Instead of participating, the man with the sun-streaked hair kept his hand clenched around a bottle of local beer.
    Etienne returned to Anna and set the tray down on a bar stool he had brought to the stage.
    She stared down at the collection spread before her, feeling a ripple travel over her skin. Something bad was in that pile of stuff. Something she didn’t want to face. But she couldn’t be sure what it was.
    The scarf appeared harmless enough. It was