Page 87 of Ten Beach Road

“Whyarewe inside?” Avery asked. “When we don’t have to be?”

“Another good question,” Nikki said. “Whyshouldwe be stuck in here? It’s the Fourth of fuckin’ July!” She moved toward the kitchen. “I’m going to whip up some strawberry daiquiris to take down to the beach. We could go for a swim, toast the sunset, and watch some fireworks.”

“That’s it,” Maddie said leaving the window. “I’m making a batch of fried chicken. And we can bring the potato salad and coleslaw I picked up from the deli.”

“I’ll bring the Cheez Doodles,” Avery offered. “And I’ll put ice and soft drinks in the cooler.”

Kyra snapped her book closed and sat up, reaching for her video camera. “I’m in. I’ll find the picnic basket Mom picked up at that garage sale. The paps can take their pictures—I’ll even pose for them,” she said. “Maybe they’ll get what they’re looking for and go away.”

This didn’t happen. In fact, as they toted their beach chairs and their picnic down the path and onto the beach, a few of the photographers ran ahead while others trailed behind. When they’d set up down near the water they turned their backs on the intruders and did their best to enjoy themselves.

Kyra shot the photographers watching them. Then she shot the sunset and the toasts that followed. Maddie raised her to-go cup in the light of the pinkening sky and proposed the first toast. “To life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” she said, trying not to stumble over the words or dwell on how long it had been since she’d felt truly happy.

“To Bella Flora and the grunts who’ve come to love her,” Nikki said.

“To Malcolm Dyer!” Avery said.

“Because?” Maddie asked, lowering her glass.

“Because if it weren’t for him, we would never have met?” Avery said.

They raised their glasses and clinked and Nicole said, “I guess that makes us the silver lining.”

They fell silent after that, waiting for the sky to fade to black. And then they oohed and ahhed like everyone else as the fireworks boomed and exploded, staring upward in delight until the last of the color bursts shot through the sky like oils painting on black velvet.

Nicole came out of a deep sleep to a large male hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream but the sound was trapped against skin. With panic skittering up her spine and her pulse thrumming in her ear, she shook her head and tried to catch her breath, but she couldn’t loosen the hand’s hold.

“Shhh,” a familiar male voice said. “Don’t scream. It’s me. Malcolm.”

Nikki’s eyes flew open. She stopped struggling.

“Will you keep quiet?”

She nodded slowly, still trying to make out his face. When he removed his hand she turned and sat up on the mattress, reaching for the lamp.

“No, don’t. It’s after two A.M. The photographers are gone, but they’ve been great cover.” He raised the camera around his neck with a pleased smile. “Maybe I’ll submit some anonymous shots of Daniel Deranian’s little girlfriend.”

Nicole held back the grimace of distaste. She had no idea what to say nor did she know if he was aware of Agent Giraldi. Or that the FBI had been watching.

“Great house, huh?” Malcolm said. “You’ve done a lot with it. I never did have a chance to renovate like I planned.” He smiled slightly. “I have a villa in Tuscany. And a beach house on Grand Cayman, though. This was the only fixer-upper.”

Nikki thought she might gag on her anger. Despite all the mental conversations she’d had with Malcolm and all the times she’d imagined screaming her anger and disappointment and hurt at him, she could hardly form thoughts, let alone words.

Her gaze narrowed as she strained to see his features in the moonlight. His face had a grayish tint and his eyes spoke of exhaustion. He didn’t look like a man with three hundred million dollars.

“I need your help,” he said. “I need your help to get to the money.”

The maternal instincts that had been revving up sputtered out. “You stole, Malcolm. From your clients and from me.”

She stared into his eyes; even in the dark she could see his surprise. “And you’re surprised that I’m angry.” She studied him—her little brother, the person she’d loved most for most of her life. But she also saw Madeline and Avery and Grace’s foster children. “Because you obviously never stopped and thought about the consequences of your actions.” Her fury mounted. She wanted to take hold of him and shake him until he understood. As she probably should have when he was a child.

“Did you ever stop and think about any of your victims?” she asked. “You put me out of business and practically out on the street. You remember what that feels like, don’t you? The vow we took to never let that happen again?”

It was his turn to nod.

“You weren’t raised to steal. To survive, yes, but not at the expense of everyone else.”

“I didn’t mean to. I never meant to. And I’m going to give you everything back.” He smiled the old cocky smile that had always helped him get whatever he wanted. “Plus interest and a lump sum for pain and suffering.” That smile again.

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