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If I thought traveling from New York to Bangkok had been tough, the small plane we were on now was ten times worse. It shook and trembled and kept going up and down and left and right for some reason, and all the while I thought this was it—the end was nigh!

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Dooley intimated from his cage, which was located right next to mine at Odelia’s feet.

“Me too, buddy,” I said, as I retched slightly. All this traveling was well and good, but it wasn’t doing a lot for my equanimity.

“This isn’t the life for me,” Dooley added with a groan. “I’m a homebody, Max, not Indiana Jones or Lara Croft. Maybe Odelia should consider getting a dog and bringinghim on her travels halfway across the world.”

He was right. Travel simply does not agree with us. Still, as far as I could ascertain, we were almost there, and not a minute too soon.

“Next time I’m not coming,” Dooley continued his lament. “She can bring Harriet and Brutus. They would have loved it.”

“Not Brutus,” I corrected him. “I think he was more than happy to be left behind. It’s Harriet who’s the eager one. She loves this Passion Island business and would like nothing more than to be part of the show.”

“Well, she can have her show,” said Dooley, in a rare case of moodiness and rebellion.

“We’re almost there,” I assured him. “And I’m sure once we arrive at destination’s end, things will greatly improve. Exclusive five-star beach resort and all of that stuff.”

“You’re forgetting one thing, Max.”

“What?”

“This is only the first part of the trip. We still have to get home again, which means another trip by plane, plane and plane.”

And then he really did retch, depositing a nice little puddle of puke right in front of his cage. And since seeing puke always makes me want to puke, too, I quickly followed suit and deposited my neat little puddle right next to his.

“Oh, dear,” said Odelia as she saw the result of our mastication on the floor. She gave us a look of commiseration. “You’re really not well, are you, fellas?”

“Not well,” Dooley said in shaky tones.

“Not well at all,” I echoed, equally shaky. My limbs were quaking, and my stomach was twitching.

“I think I’m going to die, Odelia,” said Dooley. “Please take my body back to the States and bury me in the garden underneath the rose bushes.”

“Yeah, don’t give us one of those burials at sea,” I pleaded. “I wouldn’t like to be dumped into the seething seas tucked into a plastic bag.”

“I don’t want to be tucked into a plastic bag and chucked into the sea either!” Dooley cried.

Odelia smiled.“You’re not going to die. You’re a little sick right now, but as soon as we land you’ll feel right as rain again.”

“You’re simply saying that so we won’t worry,” I said.

“Yeah, you’re simply saying that so we won’t complain when they shove us into a plastic bag and chuck us into the sea!” Dooley cried.

“I probably should have given you something against motion sickness,” said Odelia.

Behind her, suddenly a voice spoke.“Are you actually talking to your cats?” The voice was laced with a healthy dose of irony, but still Odelia sat up with a start.

“They’re not feeling well,” she explained to the woman. She was blond and tan and giving both me and Dooley a hard look. “Cats don’t take well to travel.”

“You should have gotten a dog,” said the woman as she gave us a supercilious look. “Dogs are a lot more fun than cats. Cats are stupid, spiteful creatures. My mom had a cat. It scratched me so hard on my butt once you can still see the scar.” And to prove she wasn’t lying, she showed her left buttock, where indeed a tiny scar was visible. I wondered what she must have done to provoke such an attack in that particular place. Probably she’d taken a seat on her mother’s cat by accident, at which point the creature quite naturally returned the favor by digging its claws into her behind.

Odelia clenched her jaw. She hates it when people talk smack about her cats. She refrained from lashing out, though, mostly because she was on assignment, and the first rule for an investigative reporter undercover on a case: don’t antagonize your potential sources of information.

“So how did you end up joining this madhouse?” asked the woman.

“My boyfriend and I are getting married in a couple of months, and we decided to test our relationship before taking the plunge,” Odelia explained. “How about you, Jackie?”

Jackie shrugged, and checked her overly long fingernails.“Money, of course. If we win this thing we’ll have a nice little nest egg.”

“Or a down payment to buy your own place,” Odelia suggested.

Jackie laughed.“Don’t you worry. We got that covered. Gary owns his own construction company. The first thing he did when we started going out was select a nice plot of land and show it to me. That’s when I knew he was the one. Finally a guy who’s got his priorities straight. He’s already laid the foundations, and by the time we walk down the aisle our dream house will be ready for us to move in.”

“Well, I’d say I hope you win, but since I hope to win myself…”