“I haven’t told Leilani, but…”
She froze. “What?”
“Just before Keloa…passed.”
She reached for his hand. “What is it?”
“I went to the doctor. I hadn’t had a checkup in a long time. She’s been nagging me to go forever, so I finally did. The news wasn’t good.”
“No?”
“Congenital heart disease. Hardening of the arteries.”
Miranda felt as if a volcano had erupted beneath her feet and was about to swallow her up any second. She’d just found her father, halfway made up with him, and now…this? “That can’t be right.”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s in the early stages. I still have a few years. More if I take care of myself. The doc gave me some meds. And I need to start watching my diet. Laying off the pork.” He forced a chuckle, then shook a forefinger at her. “You need to take care of yourself, too. It’s hereditary, you know.”
The shockwaves just kept coming. Hereditary disease? “I—I will. Uh, Dad.”
“Yes, honey?”
Honey. She scratched at her hair, trying to find the right words. “I need…a favor.”
“What? Anything. Or maybe I should hear it first.” He chuckled.
“Do you have any documentation for that disease? And that it’s hereditary?”
He looked puzzled. “I guess the doctor has.”
“Could you get a copy for me?”
“Sure. Why?”
She couldn’t tell him about her daughter. It was too much. “I can’t tell you. It has to do with…a case I’m working on.” That was close enough to the truth.
He gave her a suspicious glance. “Okay. I can get it in a few days. Will you still be here?”
She was supposed to be on her honeymoon but that had been shot to hell. Parker would probably want to cut his losses and head home. “We’re only here for a little while. We have to get back to the Agency. I can give you my address in Atlanta.”
“Okay.” He turned around to find a pen and a notepad on a shelf. He handed them to her. “Here.”
She took them, scribbled down the information and slid them back to him.
He stared down at the pad for a long moment. “Can I…write to you?”
She’d longed for him to write to her for thirty-one years. “Sure.”
He wrote something down, tore off a slip of the paper and handed it to her. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“The phone number here at the house. Call any time.”
She heard the back door open. Before she could say anything, Parker came around a corner. “Would you like to stay a little longer?”
“No, I’m ready to go.” She slipped the paper into her pocket and got to her feet.
With a look that said he was satisfied with what she’d given him, her father came around the bar and walked them to the front door.
“Say goodbye to Leilani and Olina for me. And tell Mikaele to keep his nose in the books.”
He gave her a radiant smile. “I will.”
Parker extended a hand to him. “Thank you, sir. For everything.”
Her father patted his arm. “Sir? Call me Pumehana. Or, if you don’t like that, Dad.”
“All right, Dad.” Man, did that ever sound strange coming out of Parker’s mouth.
He gave her another one of his bear hugs and she drank it in, knowing she’d cherish the memory of it. “My PI daughter and her PI husband. I couldn’t be prouder of you. Aloha, Miranda.”
She stepped out the door and waved good-bye. “Aloha, Dad.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
They drove in silence down the Honoapiilani Highway, heading back to the Ashford-Grand. Before they reached the garden entrance, Parker glanced over at the stretch of beach that ran along the other side of the road.
“Would you like to take a walk?”
She leaned toward him and gave his foot a glance. “Don’t you think you should give that ankle a rest?”
“It’ll be all right.”
What was he up to? She was afraid to guess. “Okay.”
He pulled over and they got out and made their way across the street, under the palm trees and down to the shore. Miranda took off her flip-flops and let her toes sink into the warm sand. They strolled for a while, with no sound but the foamy waves and the sea gulls overhead.
Miranda knew Parker was getting ready to say something ominous. Well, it was a day for that.
He shaded his good eye and gazed out over the water. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at the ocean the same way after today.”
“Me, either.”
They walked a little more. From the corner of her eye she watched his gait, which was fairly steady. She took in his stone-washed jeans and form-fitting shirt. The man wore casual clothes with the same swagger he wore a tuxedo. Maybe it was that patch. It did give him the air of a pirate.
Nerves swam around in her stomach. At last, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She stopped short and turned to face him. “Look, Parker. Why don’t you just say what you have to say?”
“You’re getting to be a bit of mind reader yourself.” He smiled, but somehow that seemed all wrong. You shouldn’t be smiling if you’re about to break up with someone.
“Go ahead, get it over with.”
His expression changed and she recognized that all too serious look in his eye. The one she could see. “This isn’t easy for me.”
Why should it be? “I can handle it.” She put her flip-flops back on, shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and raised her chin.
“Very well,” he said slowly. “I want to ask your forgiveness.”
She snorted out loud. “What? You, too?”
One dark brow rose. “Who else wanted your forgiveness?”
“Never mind. What do you want me to forgive you for?”
“For looking for your father behind your back.”
She gave him a scowl. “Didn’t I already do that?”
“You said you guessed you had to. And you were upset at the time.”
She stared at him. He wanted to know if she’d really meant it. She lifted her hands in a shrug. “You were doing what you do. I know you were trying to help me. And…you did.”
“That’s not the way you reacted when you saw that message from Ryo on my phone,” he said stiffly.
“So? A lot has happened since then.”
He drew in a breath and shifted his weight. “I still need your genuine forgiveness. I don’t want ill will between us.” Or anything buried in her heart.
Ill will, huh? She put a hand to her head and thought back to Parker sitting in the BMW waiting for her when she first saw her father. The thought still touched her heart. “When I came out of Coconut Rum and saw you hadn’t rushed in to rescue me…it meant a lot.”
He nodded slowly, like a judge who didn’t quite buy the defendant’s alibi. “That’s gratifying. But I need to hear the words.”
He could be so noble at times, so formal. And so stubborn. “Okay, I forgive you. Feel better?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” He seemed truly relieved.
Okay, so that was square between them. Now he’d hit her with the big guns, right?
They walked on, following the curve of the shore and were greeted by the laughter of children playing in the water.
“Who else did you forgive today?”
She kicked at the sand with her big toe. “My father.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Well, I sort of did. He said he was sorry for abandoning me. I told him I’d try to forgive him. I don’t know if I can, but at least I had to say it.” She turned and began to walk again, rubbing her arms. “And then he told me he has a hereditary disease.”
Parker came to a halt. “What?”
“It’s a heart condition. He doesn’t know how long he has.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah, a real kicker. But it’s in the ear
ly stages. He’s in pretty good shape. He’s probably got years.” At least she hoped so.
“Miranda…do you want to contact the judge in Chicago? About Amy? No pressure. Just a question.”
She stopped walking. She was at the shoreline and the frothy white water washed over her feet. Listening to the tide going in and out, she stared at the ocean. The blue expanse of sea and sky, the fishing boats along the horizon, the wispy white clouds hovering over the neighboring island.
Funny, a few weeks ago she would have jumped at the chance to find Amy. But now? Now she had a family. And back home, she had friends. And Wendy. The girl was so fragile. Her parents still ignored her. Miranda cared about the kid. She couldn’t desert her.
And what if she discovered Amy was living in bad circumstances? She couldn’t stand knowing that. If she were with a good family, she’d be jealous and angry that she had never been able to give her daughter that kind of life.
Most of all, what if Amy…hated her?
But how could she go on not knowing anything about her daughter? She’d had these doubts before. They’d nagged at her the whole thirteen years she’d searched for her. How could she throw away this chance to find out where Amy was? Who she was? How could she not use the information her father had given her?
“I never wanted to interfere in Amy’s life. I have to believe she’s got people she knows and loves as her parents.”
“I know that,” he said gently.
“I just want to know she’s…safe.”
“And so…?”
“I asked my father for documentation of his disease from his doctor. He’s going to send it to Atlanta.”
She heard him exhale the breath he’d been holding and knew she’d surprised him. “Would you like me to handle the details from there?”
Feeling numb, again she nodded. She reached for Parker’s hand, squeezed it. “Yes, I want to see what the judge says.” He still might not open the adoption records but this was the best chance they’d ever have.
“I’ll file the papers as soon as we get back home.”
She almost laughed. She couldn’t believe how un-pushy he was being. It felt a little weird. She turned to study that gorgeous, middle-aged face. The distinguished lines, the salt-and-pepper hair, the one intense gray eye she could see. She was really going to miss him.
She took a deep breath. “Okay. Now will you say what you have to tell me?”
His good eye narrowed at her. “What do you think I have to tell you?”
Was he going to make her spell it out? “That you’ve finally realized I’m right. That our relationship will never work out.”
His brow furrowed in masculine confusion. “I thought you just forgave me.”
“For looking for my father. For being you.” She frowned at him. “Saying ‘I forgive you’ doesn’t mean things will work out between us, Parker.”
“And why not?”
“Why not?” He didn’t see it? Now he was making her mad. “A thousand and one reasons. We’re from different worlds. You come from a stable family, I don’t.”
“You like spicy food and I prefer it blander.”
She scoffed at him and marched away, kicking up sand.
He caught up to her, reached for her arm, turned her to face him. “Miranda, haven’t we been over all this before?”
“So?”
“So you married me anyway.”
She folded her arms and rolled her eyes. “Parker, we had a fight on our honeymoon, for Pete’s sake.”
He seemed bewildered. “And your point is?”
Tears of exasperation stung her eyes. Good Lord, she was sick of crying. She raised her hands to the sky. “Even Leon and I didn’t fight on our honeymoon.”
“Oh, so that’s it.”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
He rubbed his chin and studied her with the air of a psychologist. “So you believe a fight on the honeymoon means the marriage won’t last.”
He was driving her nuts. “How can it, Parker? If you can’t keep from fighting on your honeymoon, it will only get worse later on.”
Parker looked at the woman before him and thought she’d never been so beautiful. Those gorgeous eyes as blue as the water beyond them. That wild, sensual hair. Even in flip-flops and jeans, she seemed like regal to him. His heart went out to her. She’d never had a decent relationship with a man. She didn’t understand the first thing about healthy disagreements.
He dared to step toward her and take her hand in his. That hand had saved his life yesterday. Along with that fiery spirit and determination and resilience he could never stop loving. “Would a marriage of twenty-two years disprove your theory?”
Slowly, she narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Sylvia and me.”
“You two fought? On your honeymoon?”
“Yes, we did.”
Miranda glared at Parker’s way too good-looking face. How could he keep it straight and tell that bald-faced lie? She pulled her hand out of his and slapped both fists on her hips. “How long did it last? A minute?”
He put a finger to his lips to keep from chuckling. “All night. We shouted at each other. She locked herself in the bathroom and wouldn’t come out until morning.”
She couldn’t help blinking at him in shock. “Really?”
“Really. I swear it.” Held up his right hand.
She folded her arms and cocked her head at him. “Okay, then. What was the fight about?”
His smile disappeared. He frowned, rubbed his brow. “I can’t remember.”
She pursed her lips in disbelief.
“Really, I can’t remember for the life of me. I’d bet Sylvia couldn’t either. We made up, forgot about it and went on.”
She stared at him.
“Oh, my darling. Fighting doesn’t tear you apart as long as you fight fair. And if you make up afterward.”
Did she dare believe that? She wanted to. She really wanted to. After all, she loved him more than her own life. “Well, I’m not saying I buy that…”
“Yes?”
“But I guess…”
“Yes?”
She caved. “I guess it’s worth finding out if you’re right.”
“A wise decision.” He stepped to her, put his arms around her, drew her to him and placed his sexy lips against her own.
The kiss was warm and sensuous. He moved his mouth over hers with that incredible skill that never failed to turn her knees to pudding and fill her body with a throbbing need.
Now that was more like it. Her heartbeat kicking up, she pulled away from him before they ended up rolling around naked in the sand in broad daylight.
She cleared her throat. “I was thinking…”
“Yes?” he said in a wicked tone. He leaned his forehead against hers and toyed with her hair.
“Our honeymoon got kind of wrecked.”
“I’ll admit it wasn’t what I had in mind when I planned it. But we still have more than a week of vacation.”
She laid her head against his strong chest, listened to his heartbeat, relieved that she could still hear it. She thought of the paper in her pocket. She would call her father and she would come back here to see him. But right now she needed to process everything that had happened. As magical as this island was, it wasn’t the romantic getaway it had been when she and Parker first arrived.
“I can’t stay here,” she murmured.
“No, I didn’t think so.” His fingers were in her hair again, his lips kissing the unruly tresses. “How about we go to Paris?”
She had to laugh. “Paris? Because of my acute fashion sense?”
He smiled an understanding smile. “Where would you like to go?”
She thought about it. Before she met this man, she never thought she’d get out of the country, so she’d never let herself dream about going anywhere. But maybe… “Don’t they build Ferraris in Italy?”
“There was a plant in Maranello. I don’
t think it’s still in use, but I believe there’s a sports car museum there.”
Her blood began to pump with excitement. “I thought we could pick one up and drive it around the countryside.”
That made him chuckle. “I’m sure we can find one to rent.”
“Is Maranello near Rome?”
“It’s in the north. Rome is in the south.”
She dug her fingers into his thick mane of hair. “But it’s a small country, isn’t it? I’ve always wanted to see some of those ancient ruins.”
“We can take a tour of the entire nation, if you like.”
“It sounds like a dream vacation.”
“It does sound good.”
She let him go. “C’mon. Let’s go get packed.”
“All right, but I’m warning you, we may not get to the packing right away.”
“That’s okay,” she laughed. “I’ve never made it with a pirate before.”
The trade wind in her hair, she closed her eyes and breathed in the sea air. She had her father back. She had a family. And she had a husband who loved her so much, she couldn’t get rid of him no matter what she did. For the first time since she’d met him in that jail cell, she thought it just might work between them.
Feeling lighter than she had all week, she took Parker’s hand and helped him hurry up the bright, sandy beach to the hotel.
###
Dear Reader,
Once again, Miranda saved Parker’s life. And gained a family in the process.
Best of all, now Parker has the key to finding Miranda’s long lost daughter.
But who is she?
And what about Leon, who’s lying in a hospital room on life support, waiting to die?
She doesn’t know it, but Miranda is about to face the most horrendous trial of her life.
You’ll want to see this final battle, because the stakes are about to get higher than ever.
Get it now.
Thin Ice (A Miranda’s Rights Mystery) #5
Thanks so much!
Linsey
Copyright © 2013 Linsey Lanier
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
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