Another case, another vast expanse of desert. But there was something different about this one, something... the word otherworldly had crossed his mind, albeit briefly. It was as though the earth itself was imbued with some sort of power, and the air felt tinged with a sense of the mysterious, the unknown. Looking out at the way the outback stretched on, seemingly into eternity, the earth burnt ochre under the blazing sun, you could really believe that this was the kind of land on which people disappeared without explanation.
After so long without a real case, Kekoa’s hands were itching from inactivity, his bones restless, eager to get into solving a real puzzle. He was glad to find Isabelle and Sylvie in one place, in the small lobby of the hotel that Interpol had so kindly chosen for them.
“You guys ready to go?” he queried, coming to a halt near them. “I made my feelings about this plenty clear in the briefing, I think we should start with the indigenous locals rather than the cops.” It was a statement that left some room for debate, but was nonetheless reasonably firm, bolstered by the fact that he knew Isabelle agreed with him about the fact that the police wouldn’t be especially useful.
