Page 56 of Shark Cove

“I wish you could stay with me all the time. You make me feel safe.” Camille kept her eyes shut as she spoke. “I got home from school like usual, and that man who was holding me at the rendezvous was in the house already, waiting. He made me write that runaway note—for some reason, they wanted Mom to think I ran away, maybe to buy time. A second guy grabbed a bunch of clothes to look like I’d left, and stuffed them in a backpack. They put tape on me and a pillowcase over my head and marched me out to a car. Made me lie down in the trunk.” She shuddered.

“What happened next?”

“Like I said, they put me in a toolshed kind of thing. It got hot during the day, and cold at night. I could tell it was somewhere isolated because there was no street noise, just mynah birds and doves, and a dog that barked sometimes, far away. They put food in once a day and a gallon jug of water and took the bucket out. I decided not to eat on the first day. I wanted to make them return me.” Camille looked down at her transparent-looking fingers.

“Well, this is really ironic, because your mom said you were shipped off to a fat farm to lose a few pounds.”

“What the heck?” Camille frowned. “What do you mean?”

Malia told her about the course of her own investigation, including the part about Blake blackmailing her to let him help. She watched her friend’s face carefully as she told Camille about Blake’s involvement. “He really seems to care about you. He helped me a lot.”

“Oh, Blake,” was all Camille said, and Malia heard a sigh in the words, but wasn’t sure what that meant. “Can we get going? I’m sure the coast is clear by now, and I could really use a burger—or three.”

Malia and Camillepulled up at Jack in the Box in Kahului in the bullet-riddled Prius, which had begun to make ominous hissing noises accompanied by clanking. Malia called her mom’s cell from a pay phone, while Camille scarfed down a plain burger, all they could afford with the change Camille had in her ashtray.

“I’m on my way with a squad car,” Harry said, the minute Malia finished her breathless explanation. “Does Camille need medical attention?”

Malia glanced in the window, where Camille was polishing off the last of the burger. “Probably, because she fainted—but I think she was just hungry.” Malia blew out a breath. “What happened to her parents and the kidnappers?”

“More when I meet you.” Harry hung up.

A few minutes later, Malia and Camille were alerted by the cry of sirens. They went outside the fast-food joint to wait as two squad cars pulled up, lights flashing, followed by an ambulance. Harry jumped out of one car and Regina, her arm bandaged, jumped out of the other. The two women converged on them.

“I’m glad we had a little time together,” Malia told Camille.

“Me too.” Camille’s worried eyes were on Regina William as her mother advanced. “I wish you could stay with me.”

“I’ll try.”

Two med techs came over from the ambulance. They insisted Camille be examined at the hospital and said that only her mother could ride in the ambulance. Camille seemed resigned. She gave a little wave as she and Regina climbed into the vehicle, and it took off.

Harry frowned at Malia. “I’m glad you’re alive, but you’re in big trouble right now, young lady.”

“Can I at least get a hug?”

Harry scooped Malia in close and squeezed her hard. “You crazy brave girl.” She kissed Malia’s forehead. “I’m taking you to the station to give your statement.”

“Okay. Whatever I need to do.” They got into one of the squad cars as the other officer dealt with calling an impound tow to take the Prius in. Harry pulled the phone off her belt and handed it to Malia as they drove. “Call your dad. He’s been worried sick.”

Malia grimaced. She couldn’t help feeling guilty for ditching Dad to help Camille. “Am I going to be charged with stealing Camille’s car?” Malia asked as she scrolled to find Dad’s cell number in her mom’s contacts.

“Not sure.” Harry stared out the windshield, letting Malia feel the weight of her displeasure.

“What’s the latest, Harry?” Peter asked tersely when the call connected.

“Dad, it’s Malia.”

“Oh, thank god.” He caught his breath. “Honey—are you okay? I heard from your mom that you were involved in something to do with Camille’s kidnapping.”

“Something to do with rescuing her. It’s a long story.”

“You can tell me when you get home.” His voice went steely. “And by the way, not cool to use me to get a ride to her house.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I had to do it.” Malia’s voice wobbled as Harry shook her head, frowning. “I know I’m in a lot of trouble.” She covered her eyes with a hand. “I hope you understand that I was trying to help Camille.”

A long pause. The MPD headquarters building loomed in the twilight—a large brightly lit fortress. Malia’d only been inside once or twice before and she wasn’t looking forward to this time even a little bit.

“Kylie and I will be here when you get home. I love you,” Dad said. Malia sighed with relief as she ended the call. He, at least, was going to forgive her.

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