Tom waits for me outside the office as I climb in the car’s back seat.
“Straight home?” he asks.
“No. We need to pick Destiny up from her internship.”
“Sir, I usually pick Destiny up by four. I do hope she hasn’t been waiting on us for over an hour.”
I know when to pick my kid up, I almost snap, but he’s just being as loyal as ever.
Instead, I say, “I believe she had to help with a presentation on sea lion vocalizations.”
“Ah. So our Destiny’s going to be the one to break the language barrier with sea life. I always knew she was special.”
I smile at the ridiculous joke.
We haven’t made it very far when a light rain turns into a proper deluge.
Half an hour later, we pull up in front of the aquarium. We’re just in time because the sky turns from a dense grey to an angry black that’s determined to drown this city.
Dess spots us and comes running around the car. The rain doesn’t bother her much when she’s assuming that leisurely I’m-too-cool-for-this-world pace teenagers love.
As she climbs in, she whips her head around, splashing water on me like a wet dog.
“Thanks, Fido!” I say, wiping rain off my neck with a scowl. “I would have moved or gotten you a towel like a normal human being, you know.”
She shrugs, fighting back a grin.
“What do you want for dinner tonight?”
Another shrug.
“Another pizza?” I guess.
Her head flops back and forth faster.
“Public Market?”
She responds with an eye roll.
“Sushi?”
“Dad, I barely like fish, not counting that stuff in Hawaii. God,” she whines.
“So you can talk? Are you planning to ignore me forever, Dess? We live in the same house and you’ll have your work cut out for you,” I growl.
She doesn’t say anything.
“Want to tell me how I get you talking to me again?” I ask her point blank, sick of the games.
“Um, maybe start by treating Eliza like a person?”
My jaw pinches together.
Only fifteen and she’s already making demands. Shame she’s set on this marine biology thing, or she would’ve made one hell of an executive negotiator.
“I told you, I tried. She wasn’t interested in hearing it. I can’t make a woman talk to me—not even a badger lady.”
She gives me a long stare.
“So, wait, somehow you stomp around like you’re king of the world and you can make everything happen, but not this? If you want something badly enough, you go after it, Dad. That’s what you taught me. That’s how you live. I’m not sure why it’s any different with Eliza.” She huffs out a heavy breath. “But you apologized over voicemail, right?”
“She wouldn’t pick up the phone,” I force out, knowing how pathetic that sounds.
Even now, I have an urge to show up at Eliza’s door and wait there all night until she talks to me.
“That’s not an apology,” Dess says, swiping a hand over her face.
“Thank you, doctor. Did those sea lions make you an expert on doling out love advice?” I smirk at her.
“Dude. You’re such a dad. Maybe it’s an old people thing—I don’t know—but even the freakin’ high school boys know apologizing over a voicemail isn’t apologizing at all.”
I glower, wishing whatever the hell happened with Eliza could be as simple as young love.
She shakes her head tiredly.
“Yep. Definitely an old guy thing. But Eliza isn’t that old. You’ve got to wizen up if you want her back. She’s younger than you and she doesn’t know what dating was like before the wall fell.”
“Good, because I never heard of anyone taking dating advice from East Germans. And you said apologizing isn’t apologizing.”
“No, I said apologizing over voicemail isn’t apologizing. Key difference.”
“Why not? I said I was sorry.”
She looks at me like I’m on fire and she isn’t sure if she wants to put me out.
“Right, in the crummiest way ever. You could mean it—or it could just be convenient. You didn’t even talk to her. Have you tried meeting her in person?”
“I wanted to, but it hasn’t been in the cards. And shouldn’t I simply respect her space?”
“Umm—I’ve only ever had one boyfriend—”
“Who?” I bite off.
The little prick had better hope he’s another imaginary college kid, for his sake.
I remember how I was at fifteen, and I sure as hell don’t want any boy like me chasing my daughter.
“Dad, focus. If he basically called me a loser and ghosted—sorry, ‘respected my space’—I’d just assume it was over.”
“I didn’t call her a loser. Not once,” I clip.
“No, but you implied she lives in a warzone where bikers shoot at mafia dudes every day for their drug money.”
“Hardly.” I stare at her.
“Jeez, I saw it in a movie once… Anyhow, you crapped the bed. You made her feel like less, like she was stupid for taking care of me. You came off like a big gross snob.”
“You two keep twisting my words,” I say bitterly. “You’ve known me my whole life, Destiny. Have you ever heard me shit on the homeless even once? Have you forgotten the times I brought you to my charity events, where I gladly served them coffee myself? I could’ve easily passed it off to a subordinate.”
“Yeah, well. Not until that day at Eliza’s place—”
“When I was upset—furious—that my beloved daughter was robbed and assaulted?” I exhale slowly. “You and Eliza can call me a Scrooge on steroids, but facts are facts. There’s no denying the fact that crimes are sharply higher there, and wherever there’s more crime, the more you’re likely to be a victim. Numbers don’t lie.”
She sighs. “You are so determined to screw this up, aren’t you?”
“I’m not,” I flare, unsure why I’m taking love advice from my fifteen-year-old daughter. I punch down the privacy screen. “Tom, take us back to the office.”
“Will do, Mr. Lancaster.”
By the time he’s turning around, the rain is moving in sheets. If I stuck my hand out the window, I’d barely see it in this mess.
“Mr. Lancaster,” Tom says a minute later.
“Yeah?”
“If this weather gets much worse, I might need to pull over for safety.”
I nod when he looks back in the rearview mirror, but I’m not feeling generous.
“Goddamned great,” I mutter. “Now I’m going to be delayed by weather.”
“Good news—she’ll be delayed by the rain too if she’s leaving,” Destiny says. “But why are we going back to the office? How will that solve anything?”
“She works fourteen-hour days. It’s a miracle if she ever ducks out before seven o’clock unless I make her. I’ll simply catch her there and apologize right now. I’ll make this right.” I pause. “And you, young lady, are staying in the car.”
“Not fair!” she hisses.
I nod firmly, holding in a chuckle.
Grinning, Destiny reaches across the car and hugs me with all her might.
At least I’ve won one of my girls back.
“What was that about?” I say.
She stays in my arms, though, just like she used to when she was a little girl. “Because. I don’t want Eliza to stop talking to me just because you were a mammoth jerk—”
“Come on. I don’t think she’d shut you out.”
“She hasn’t texted since we left her house that day…” Destiny looks down.
“I suppose that was my fault,” I admit. “I told her you weren’t allowed to talk to her. I scared her away when she was just trying to help.”
I feel a phantom boot pressing into my gut.
She goes quiet before raking me with a slow, worried look.
“I’ve also been worried about you, Dad. Like what happens when I go off to college? You’ll be all alone. I hated the thought, but then you found Eliza and I just…I thought you’d finally be okay.”
My daughter has the heart of an angel.
I hug her, stroking her hair like I did when she was a toddler. I’m perfectly aware I don’t have many moments like this left.
“Destiny, it’s not your place to worry about me once you’re gone. I take care of you,” I say firmly. “Never the other way around. Not until I’m eighty years old and drooling from a morphine drip. Okay? I’m fine. I’ll make it right with Eliza because I care about her and it’s the right thing to do. Still, if she doesn’t want me in her life after what I pulled, that’s not your problem. I’ll survive either way. You’ll still go off to school and start your life. I’ll be here in this cloudy damn city, growling at people and running my company the best I can.”
“And you’ll never eat or sleep without someone at home to tell you to do it,” she says, laughing.
“I’ll set alarms.”
She laughs. “Whatever. Thanks for the pep talk, Dad.”
I let her go and tap my phone. I normally spend these long commutes reading office emails because it saves me time.
But there’s a message in my inbox I’m not expecting.
I’m not prepared for it. The subject line is Resignation Notice.
The message couldn’t be clearer.
I can take my job and go straight to hell. Eliza is already off to San Diego.
She’s already left the lab.
She won’t be checking messages.
I lost my chance to mend anything without even knowing it.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
“What’s wrong?” Destiny leans over my shoulder, her eyes wide.
I still have the email open. She must catch just enough before I angrily close the app and shove my phone against my leg.
“Oh. Oh, shit,” she whispers.
The word isn’t angry. It’s exasperated and sad.
“Language,” I warn, sucking a breath between my teeth and releasing it slowly. “Maybe I can catch her before she leaves.”
“She’s not going to talk to you now, Dad.” She slaps her thighs. “Ugh, I hate this.”
“I thought you wanted me to try?”
“I did. I do, but now it just seems hopeless. I’m sorry.”
I grind my teeth, hating that she might be right.
Unless I get my jet ready for an overnight trip to California, I’ve lost Eliza and I have no one to blame but my own jackass self.
“I’m sorry,” I add because I know Destiny is just as devastated.
“We’ll survive, I guess. Eventually.” She sighs, flicking her hair over her shoulder in irritation. “But Uncle Troy was right.”
I look at her slowly.
When did she talk to Troy?
“About what?” I ask neutrally.
“…eh, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You and Troy talk a lot lately.” I hope my nonconfrontational tone pulls something out of her. His name has been coming up a lot lately, and I need to understand why.
I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the attention he’s been giving my daughter, even if he’s just trying to be helpful.
I’ve known him forever, and that’s the problem.
Troy might be a decent man and one hell of a workhorse, but he’s not anyone who should be handing out major life advice. Not when he’s a lone wolf who never fully grew up and got his own shit together.
“What was he right about, Destiny?” I work to keep my words gentle.
“Everything.” She locks her hands together, wiggling her fingers.
Shit.
She looks like she’s on the verge of tears.
I pull the privacy screen up.
“Baby girl, what was he right about?”
“H-he’s just—” She rolls her shoulders and a tear slides down her face. “He’s been helping me, okay?”
Now, I definitely need to know.
“Helping you with what?”
“He—he told me I don’t have to dwell on Mom’s suicide. She was part of my life once, but that’s over and it’s nobody’s fault, Dad. What happened to her doesn’t have to ruin my life—or ours. I need to put it behind me and…and I have.” Tears stream down her face. She sniffs and wipes them away with the back of her hand. “I’ve been coming to terms with it. I just wish you would too. If you had, none of this would’ve happened.”
I blink. “What do you mean? I dealt with it a long time ago. The fight with Eliza had nothing to do with your mom.”
“Then why hire a PI—”
I stop cold.
“How did you know about the investigator?” I swallow harshly.
I always got the feeling Dess knows more than she lets on. She’s a bright kid, so it’s hard to hide anything from her, but she couldn’t have just guessed this.
“Troy told me,” she whispers.
Dickhead.
Of course, he did.
Even after I asked him not to.
“Destiny, there were a few loose ends and I wanted a second opinion. The man came to the same conclusions. That’s all.”
“What loose ends? Was it the robbery that got you so upset? You know it’s not Eliza’s fault I was attacked, right?” She stares at me, her soft-blue eyes hurting.
“I left you in her care and—”
“Hold up. You’re the one who left me at the library that morning. You’ve left me alone before and never worried about it. Something happened when we went to Kona, didn’t it?” She pauses, slowly breathing. “I’m fifteen, Dad. You were always pretty fair with me going out as long as I checked in or you knew who I was with. But you’re freaking out all the time now. It’s like you think Mom got killed by some psycho or something. Why?”
That isn’t what I think…is it?
I frown.
There may be a whisper of truth to what she said, a wild possibility gnawing at my mind, but it’s not that serious.
“Did Troy tell you that too?” I hold my breath, hoping like hell my supposed friend isn’t that stupid.
“No,” she mouths. “I think you’re just on edge. You always were about what happened with Mom, and then with me… It sent your paranoia into overdrive.”
I start to shake my head, but stop because it’s true.
She’s right, even if I haven’t admitted it to myself.
Fucking hell.
Nothing about the last ten years of my life sits well with me, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s all nerves and adrenaline and paranoid delusions after all.
“Also, I’m not dumb. I didn’t need anyone to tell me all that, Dad. Uncle Troy just helped put things into perspective and like, clarified my own thoughts.”
Did he?
I’d like to clarify a few things for him—possibly with my fist.
“How did this come up, Dess?”
Her face tightens. “You’ve always said how strange it was that she was wandering around at night. You always said nobody goes to the beach in their heels—”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, so, it doesn’t take a mastermind to figure out what you’re not saying. You still think something happened to Mom. Something that wasn’t an accident, or—” She stops before she says suicide. “But you’ve let it get to your head. You way overreacted with Eliza—you were unhinged—and all because you can’t let go of this weird idea that something happened to Mom. She was crazy, Dad. Clinically depressed or whatever, yeah, but crazy. And now you’re afraid something awful will happen to me.”
I consider my next words carefully.
“Your mom was a lot of things, Destiny, but I wouldn’t call her insane.”
“She took her own life!” she whispers sharply, her eyes searching mine. “You know she did. Sane people don’t kill themselves. It hurts. I hate that she did it. I hate that she couldn’t get better. I hate that nobody stopped her. But I accept it—and I just don’t get why you can’t?”
“Your mom was no angel. Hell, Aster could be pretty self-absorbed sometimes.” My jaw tightens before I continue. “Still, this suicide doesn’t make sense with anything she ever said or did. You probably don’t remember much, but—”
“Dad, I remember a lot more than you think. Mom was acting weird that whole week. She fired my latest nanny and left me with the housekeeper. Kalani and I didn’t mind. She fed me Hawaiian wedding cake cookies and taught me how to juice pineapple and do laundry.” Destiny bites her lip and looks away. “I feel really bad about saying this…but she was more fun than Mom.”
“It’s okay to be honest,” I say, looking down as I throw an arm around her shoulders.
“Yeah, well, Mom was running in and out all week. Way more than usual, I think, and always saying she had some wellness class or yoga thing. Then one day she slipped out without ever slipping back in.”
I study her sad eyes, trying to decide how much of this memory is real, and what parts were invented to cope with a brutal loss.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.
“I took you to a child psychologist not long after it happened. You got so quiet on us I knew you were hurting. The doctor had you draw a lot.” I pause, smiling dryly at the memory. “You drew your mother as an angel once. She gave you toys and watched you play. We tried talking about therapy and I checked her work with a few other shrinks. They all agreed you didn’t have any concrete memories of losing your mother, besides her leaving and not coming back. You didn’t have deep memories beyond playing with her, having her do your hair, things like that.”
“I don’t remember much,” she agrees. “I used to think I mentally blocked her out. But when I was talking to Troy, I remembered bits and pieces of that last week she was alive…”
Why did he put his goddamned mouth where it doesn’t belong?
“He stayed with us for about a week before it happened, but I don’t think Troy was around enough to know all of that.” I made a point to be home with my family when I wasn’t working. I never knew Aster left Destiny alone with Kalani.
“It doesn’t matter. The point is, the cops told you their theories. The investigator told you it was suicide, right? Case closed. Can we just cry it out one more time and move on?”
Something she just said catches my attention.
My body tenses like an arrow.
I’m almost afraid I know the answer to the next question before I ask, “Who told you that?”
“What?”
“That my PI said it was a suicide.”
She stares at me. “I told you. Uncle Troy said—”
“There. Right there.” The words come out like bullets. “I never told Troy what the investigator found. He couldn’t have known that.”
Not without some serious underhanded fuckery, anyway.
Not unless he contacted my own PI.
“Wait. What?” She holds my gaze. “You’re serious?”
“Yep.” And even if I’d told him, Troy has no business whatsoever talking to my daughter about her mom’s death, especially without my knowledge.
What the fuck game does he think he’s playing—and why?
I’m not waiting around to find out. I find the jackass in my contacts and hit Call.
His line rings until it goes to voicemail.
“Dad?” Destiny squeaks.
I’m already dialing him again as I glance at my daughter. “Yes?”
“What did the investigator find? Talk to me!”
Gut punch.
I can’t tell her it was a definite suicide in the man’s opinion. I don’t think he had all the facts, and now I wonder if he was actually working for me at all.
With Troy creeping around behind my back, I don’t know what the fuck to think.
“I haven’t had a chance to assess his full report,” I say. Close enough to the truth.
She nods.
I call Troy again as my blood boils.
And again.
Again.
No matter how many times I try, I keep getting his damn voicemail.
Finally, I pound out a text without giving a single shit how it sounds, Coward, pick up your phone. Did you think I wouldn’t find out about these little therapy sessions you’ve been having with my daughter?
I try calling again. This time, a loud ping interrupts, announcing an incoming text.
Snarling, I jerk the phone away from my ear and glance at it.
Eliza. She just texted me with the world’s worst timing.
I open it anyway and it’s just—a picture of this hellish rainfall and a mile marker heading out of town?
I can feel my face darkening as I glare at the screen.
“Dad? What’s wrong?” Dess asks nervously.
“I don’t know.” I put the privacy screen down again and lean forward. “Change of plans, Tom. I need to get to mile marker 237. Can you take me there?” I hold out my phone for him to see.
He deftly looks at my phone and then back at the road.
“I can take you, boss, but in this soup, it might take a solid hour.”
Not what I want to hear.
“Just get us there as soon as you can.”
“Where are we going?” Destiny asks, exasperated. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”
“Nowhere,” I growl.
“C’mon. You just gave Tom new directions. We’re going somewhere and you don’t want to tell me. Are you ever not going to treat me like a kid?”
She’ll always be my kid. I just don’t tell her because I don’t have the patience for another longwinded argument right now.
“We’re going to a mile marker.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere south toward Olympia, hugging the coast. I don’t think Eliza’s heading for SeaTac International like she planned. She’s going the wrong way and I have to help.”
“What did she say?” Destiny clenches my arm, her eyes wide.
“She just sent a picture of the mile marker in the rain. Nothing else.”
“That’s it?”
I level a look on her that says yes, and question time is over.
“I don’t get it. Why some random sign?” Her little brows knit together.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
I don’t care to spin theories when none of them are good. You don’t just butt dial a photo of a random sign in the rain to a man you loathe.
Then you have Troy, calling up my kid and playing with her memories. He’s not answering his phone and Eliza is sending cryptic texts.
It doesn’t make sense.
It’s probably all random acts of bullshit, but my gut screams there’s a connection I’m not seeing.
Not yet.
I’m just terrified that when the pieces snap together—when it all finally makes sense—I’ll wish like hell it didn’t.
Worse, my options are so fucking limited.
I have Tom gunning it as fast as he can in this torrential rain. All with my daughter in the car and this gut-churning inkling that something is hideously wrong.
Eliza needs my help, dammit. But if I’m right and I’m dragging Destiny into something I shouldn’t?
What do I do with my kid?
I grit my teeth, staring out the window while Destiny scans her phone. I swear, I could move this ride faster than Tom is right now. You never forget dealing with water in all its forms when you’re a Navy man who served on the open sea.
I also did my fair share of training with tactical driving once.
“Dad, can I ask you something?” So much for the phone stealing her attention.
Before I can answer, Tom says, “Hey, I’m sorry, Mr. Lancaster. I’ve got no choice but to pull over. I can’t even see the road, and I’m not risking us running off of it.”
Shit, shit, shit.
Not what I want to hear right now.
Sighing, I look at Destiny.
“If the PI hasn’t finished the investigation, why did Troy tell me it was suicide?”
Isn’t that the big fucking elephant in the room?
“When I find out, you’ll know,” I promise.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks quietly.
Dammit, Destiny. I’ve got to figure out how to move this pig of a luxury car in a storm.
I don’t have time to be father of the year right now. Still, I know she’s scared and confused, so I breathe slowly and nod.
“Remember what Eliza said the day my necklace got stolen? She said random robbers wouldn’t have left my purse and phone.” She bites her lip nervously.
“I know, little bee,” I say, gently brushing her hair.
Eliza was too right about a lot of things.
When I look out the window again, Tom guides us into a parking lot for a small grocery store. He must lose control because we slide, hydroplaning across the pavement before the car comes to a stop.
“It wasn’t random, was it, Dad?” Destiny’s voice is hollowed out.
My gut aches, empty and unsettled.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. You’re safe with me,” I tell her. I just have to make sure Eliza is, too. “Tom, get in the back with Destiny.”
He turns around slowly with a bewildered look.
“Sir?”
“Do it. Quickly,” I bite off.
With a shrug, he climbs out and gets in the back of the car. By the time he’s seated again, I’m behind the wheel, soaking wet from the rain.
“Mr. Lancaster, please. This storm is terrible and it’s due to last for at least another hour. We can’t drive in this.”
“We’ll see,” I say, wiping cold rain and hot sweat from my brow. “My eyes are younger than yours and I have tactical driving experience.”
“Dad…” Destiny purses her lips like she’s in awe from the back seat, her eyes gleaming.
“Sir, unless you’re part hawk—”
“No need. I’m taking us to Eliza, even if I have to drive across the whole damn Pacific.”
