Page 65 of Shark Cove

Malia slid past Kylie, who’d settled back down wrapped around the stuffed bear. “Do you really have to go in to work on the weekend?” she whispered as she and Harry exited the room.

“Yes. Thanks to our big case, we have a lot to do at the office. Your dad’s in Kylie’s room. You were so sound asleep last night I just let you both stay in bed with me.”

“Can I have my phone and laptop back?”

Harry pinned her with a narrowed gaze. “You must be kidding, Miss Grand Theft Auto.”

“Worth a try,” Malia said.

She turned to go downstairs as Harry went into the bathroom. In the kitchen, Malia busied herself making coffee. As soon as it was going, she used the house phone to call Camille’s number. No answer.

She tried the William house phone next. It rang and rang, and then Regina William’s voice mail came on. Malia glanced at the clock—well, it was early. She’d try again later. She needed to call Blake too, and catch him up on all that had happened.

Dad came in, rubbing messy blond hair. He was tan and more toned than he used to be and looked good, for an old guy, even in old sweats and an undershirt. “Coffee ready?”

“Mugs are over there.” Malia pointed. “You’re looking buff, Dad.”

“Thanks. I took up Bikram yoga. Great for the body and detoxification.” He removed a mug, filled it, handed it to her. “I know you’re drinking the devil’s brew now.”

“Well, it’s not going to stunt my growth any more than this,” Malia said, making a gesture that encompassed her shortness.

Dad snorted a laugh. “Yeah, you’re on the petite side.”

This time Malia snorted. “Petite? More like short and fat.”

“Not true, honey, and you know it. But then, don’t all teenage girls have body issues?”

Malia shrugged. Her dad wasn’t going to talk her into believing something she wished were true.Petite?With these boobs? She crossed her arms over them, remembering she didn’t have a bra on. “So, what’s Bikram yoga? As opposed to other kinds?” she asked, to change the subject.

“An hour of structured poses done in a hundred-and-five-degree room.”

“Sounds like hell. Literally.” Malia grimaced as she sipped the black coffee. “I still need some half-and-half. Trying to do without because of the calories, but I’m not there yet.” She took the carton out of the fridge and splashed some into her mug.

“Let’s go outside for a minute before your mom comes down.” Dad indicated the door with his head.

Malia followed him, mentally bracing herself to apologize for getting him to take her to Camille’s house. She followed him to the back stoop, a cement slab outside the garage that looked out at their empty, forlorn backyard, with its sagging chain-link fence and view of scrubby wild java plum trees. Beyond that, richly green, corrugated West Maui mountains began to light up with the day, garlands of morning-lit cloud draping their peaks.

Tears prickled her eyes—with her dad standing beside her and all four of them together under one roof, the rental house felt like home for the first time. They sat on the splintery bench facing the backyard. “Dad, it’s so good to have you back. I’m sorry again for what I did yesterday—for getting you to take me to Camille’s. For not being honest with you.”

“I get it. You needed to help a friend; you couldn’t ask permission for something I’d never let you do because it was too damn dangerous.” Peter circled her shoulders with an arm and squeezed. “Please don’t ever scare us like that again. That said, I’m proud of you. I hope you’ll be that loyal to me, someday.”

“Are you going to stay with us, Dad?” Malia’s voice was a ragged whisper.

He kissed the top of her head. “If your mom will let me.”

“She still loves you,” Malia said. “But don’t skimp on the romance. Mom deserves it.”

“Is that so?” Her father squinted at her, the sun in his eyes. “How do you know she still loves me?”

Malia couldn’t say anything about the anniversary date access code on Harry’s laptop. “I just know. And Mom is awesome. She could have anybody. Don’t let her get away.” Malia stood up. “It was tough on all of us, you leaving. None of us saw it coming. It’s going to take a while to be able to forget.”

Peter’s mouth tightened in remorse. He reached out, caught her hand, and squeezed it. “I will give it my best to earn the trust of each of my girls again.”

Back in the house, Malia punched in Blake’s number on the house phone. He sounded raspy, as if she’d just woken him. “Hello?”

“Everything went down yesterday,” Malia said. “Camille’s safe now, but Leonard William got killed. Can you come over? I’d like to tell you what happened in person.”

“This I gotta hear. On my way. Meet you at our spot.” He ended the call.

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