Page 20 of Shark Cove

Lei leaned in, trying to seem sympathetic. “Please. Tell us what’s really going on.”

“Well, I . . . I sent Camille to a weight loss program. I told you I was concerned about her weight gain. Her father and I decided that it would be in her best interest to go away for a while. Get therapy and a handle on her eating.”

“What!” Harry shoved back from the table so violently that her chair fell over, making Regina and Chapman jump. “You’ve wasted our time with all of this drama! What possible reason could you have for these lies?”

Regina turned to Lei, ignoring Harry. “Here’s information about the program.” She reached into a designer handbag, pulling out a brochure and sliding it across the table to Lei. “I had my reasons for claiming that Camille ran away, and if you hadn’t escalated the situation by dragging me down here to the station, I wouldn’t have been forced into subterfuge.”

“You have wasted Maui Police Department's time and resources,” Lei said. “We will be issuing you a citation to that effect.”

Chapman, feeling a need to earn his keep, piped up at that. “You can expect a formal repudiation of any such attempt.”

Harry scanned the brochure. “We will want confirmation from the program about her attendance there.”

“You are welcome to call Camp Willowslim, but with HIPAA protections they won’t tell you if she’s there or not . . . and you have my word that that’s where Camille is.” Regina William blinked imaginary tears and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “She’s on a nine-day backpacking trip with no cell phones allowed; she can’t be reached except in an emergency.” She balled the tissue. “You just don’t understand how difficult all of this has been. Choosing to send your daughter to a program like this takes courage. Camille didn’t want to go. She wrote the note herself, trying to run away before it was time to leave for the program, but her father and I are committed to doing what’s best for her. In the end, she agreed.”

“I’m sure that’s what you tell yourselves.” Harry snapped.

Lei stood up, leaning forward on her knuckles into Regina’s space. “You’ve wasted our time today when it could have been spent searching for girls who really are missing.” She tried to get eye contact with Regina, but the woman had lowered her head, sniffing noisily into a handful of tissues.

“My client is clearly distraught, and I’ll appeal any fines you try to levy against her,” Chapman said.

Harry sat back, glaring, as Lei turned off the recording equipment.

Lei stared thoughtfully after Regina William and Keoni Chapman as they departed, Regina leaning heavily on the lawyer. She frowned as the door shut behind them. “Something’s off there.”

Harry stared down at the brochure in her hand, then crumpled it. “You’re not the only one who thinks that—but we seem to have hit a dead end.”

“I wish all the girls we’re looking for had such problems.” Lei indicated the Camp Willowslim pamphlet. “But I’m pretty sure dieting is the least of their worries.”

Chapter Eight

Malia was clippingthe hibiscus hedge late that afternoon after mowing the yard, when Harry pulled up. “Wow! To what do we owe the pleasure?” Her mom grinned, clearly impressed with the yard work Malia had done.

“Just working off my worry.”

“Good way to handle that.” Harry strode up the steps and into the house. “Thanks again! The yard looks great.”

Malia finished, even raking up the cuttings and bagging them. Guilt over her lies was only slightly assuaged by the extra chores.

Harry was in the kitchen; her mother had arranged tonight’s chicken thighs in a square glass pan and poured barbeque sauce over them. She was in the act of putting the plastic-covered pan in the microwave. “Hi, honey. Thought I’d give these a jump start in the microwave—I’m hungry. Hey, you must be hungry too. Doing the yard was a big job.” Her mom’s gorgeous smile had always lit up a room, transforming her face from striking to beautiful. She put her wrist on Malia’s forehead, teasing. “You feeling all right?”

“Fine, Mom. Just worried about Camille, like I said.” Malia poured herself a glass of water and gulped it. “Did you find out anything new?”

“You already know that Lei and I were at the William house, and searched it. I came home for dinner but I’m going back to work after this. I do have some news, but I can’t tell you until I check with my superior on the case.”

Malia squelched her disappointment. “I started asking around at school. Got some info.” She unfolded a paper with the notes she’d made from the burner phone, which she’d been able to retrieve from where Blake had pitched it. “Someone said they saw Camille in the Lahaina area in the back of a blue car. Two guys in the car with her.”

Harry grabbed the paper. “What’s all this? Names, numbers?”

Malia blushed, snatching the paper back. “A little poll on who should go to prom with a popular guy. Nothing interesting.” She told her mom the other tips they had, as outrageous as they were.

“Malia, please don’t take this any further. We have it handled.” Harry pulled Malia in for a side hug. “But man, you’d make a good detective yourself someday.”

Malia’s chest went tight with a potent cocktail of stress at all the lies and happiness at her mom’s praise. Maybe it was time for her to come clean with her mom about Wallflower Diaries, and for the site to end—but what if it could still be useful in finding Camille?

Just then her sister bounced in and hugged their mother. “You’re home early, Mom!”

Malia turned away and filled the rice cooker as the two went into the dining area to check Kylie’s homework. Malia moved the half-done chicken to the oven, filled a pan with frozen vegetables and set it on the stove, then ran upstairs.

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