Meg closed her eyes, allowing the gently rolling waves to sooth her. A cup of room temperature black tea was nestled in her hands, and without opening her eyes she brought the cup to her lips for a small sip. This was probably the best backyard anyone could have, she thought, and part of her would have loved to spend the rest of her life here, listening to the waves, feeling the ocean breeze blow through her hair. It was a shame she'd have to leave eventually. Meg hoped every day for a call or text from her mom, preferably before Commander McGarrett's hospitality ran out.
She was supposed to be spending this weekend with her closest school pals. What would they think when she didn't show up? They had to have wondered why she hadn't responded to any of their texts, and her social media accounts were likely flooded with messages. Meg wasn't sure her absence would be reported as far as Hawaii if the police had already been notified. She only hoped the distance would help keep her safe.
The chair beside Meg creaked, and she opened her eyes, tilting her head to see the commander sitting beside her, a mug of his own in his hand. She suspected it was coffee.
"Have you been out here long?" he asked before taking a sip of his drink.
"A little while," she answered with a shrug. She didn't have a watch on, so she couldn't be sure how long it had been, though she'd been out long enough to view a magnificent sunrise.
They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Steve was the one to break the silence.
"So, what are your plans for today?"
Meg frowned. "My plans?"
"It's the weekend, and I don't have to go into work today. Was there anything in particular you wanted to do?" He glanced over at the sandy shore just yards away, an idea coming to mind. "Some beach time, perhaps?"
She gazed wistfully at the pristine sand and blue water before shaking her head, a small sigh passing through her lips. "I can't. I don't have a swimsuit or sunscreen."
Steve took another sip of his coffee. "That's an easy fix. We do have stores here in Hawaii, as you discovered for yourself earlier this week."
Her eyes rolled at his playful sarcasm. "I mean, I can't ask you to buy me anything, Commander McGarrett. You've already done so much for me."
Setting his mug on a small table, Steve shifted so he was facing Meg. "First of all, this is Hawaii. Swimsuits and sunscreen are necessities here. Second of all, you didn't ask. I offered. Third, even if you had asked, I still would have said yes."
The corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile. "Because it's Hawaii?"
He arched a brow. "Because you shouldn't have to worry about whether or not you can have basic necessities and comforts."
"I don't want to be a burden."
Steve's face grew serious, and he reached out to briefly tap her knee. "Hey," he said, pausing both for effect and to ensure he had her undivided attention. His voice was firm, but he didn't sound angry. "You are not now, nor will you ever be, a burden. I want you to get that ridiculous thought out of your head right now, because it will never be true. Do you understand?"
Meg nodded quickly. "I understand."
His expression softened, and he smiled to make sure she knew he wasn't upset with her. "We'll hit the stores as soon as they open, and then we'll have an afternoon on the beach. Does that sound good?"
She nodded.
Cool, salty water flowed over Meg's toes as she pushed her heels deeper into the wet sand. Wiggling her toes, she absently noted that her toenails were need of a fresh coat of paint. An actual pedicure (and manicure, of course) wouldn't be unwelcome, but it was a luxury she wouldn't dare ask Steve to finance, and Meg couldn't access her own funds without alerting the commander. He was pretty insistent that she not use that account, no matter how many times she assured him the money was hers.
The man's generosity had already exceeded any of Meg's preconceptions. A trip to the store for a swimsuit and sunscreen had resulted in two swimsuits and a few extra articles of clothing – a couple of shirts and shorts, a dress, and some undergarments. When she finally had to leave, whether because she heard from her mom or she had to move onto someplace else, there was no way she'd be able to take all of these things with her.
Meg had expected a quiet afternoon on the beach, but Steve had surprised her by inviting over Detective Williams and his kids, Grace and Charlie. At 16, Grace was closer in age to Meg than five-year-old Charlie, but it had still been a fun afternoon. Presently, Charlie was building a massive sand castle with Grace and Detective Williams while the commander went to pick up pizza for dinner. Danny had shot Steve a quick look at the mention of "pizza", one that hadn't escaped Meg's notice, but she wasn't nosy enough to say something in the moment.
The Williams clan had invited Meg to join in on their castle building adventure, but Meg had politely declined. She needed a few minutes to breathe. Despite checking her phone throughout the day, she hadn't received any phone calls. Really, there was only one call she was waiting for, but nearly a week after leaving New York, Meg had yet to hear from her mother. She knew she should try to stay positive, but not hearing anything for so long couldn't possibly be good.
"Is it okay if I join you?"
Startled from her thoughts, Meg glanced up to find Grace standing beside her. "Sure."
The older teen lowered herself onto the sand, extending her legs until her feet were in the water. "You seemed kind of sad," Grace commented.
Sad was pretty accurate, but Meg couldn't explain to Grace why she was feeling sad. She hadn't even told Steve that she was waiting for a text or a call that she feared might never come. "Just thinking."
Whether or not Grace believed Meg's excuse, the teen accepted it without further argument or prodding. "So how do you know Uncle Steve?"
Upon their meeting earlier that afternoon, Danny had told Grace and Charlie that Meg was staying with Steve for a while, but he hadn't offered any sort of explanation why she was staying there. Meg didn't blame Grace for wondering; Meg would have too, had their roles been reversed. "He kind of saved my life," admitted Meg.
Grace smiled. "He's pretty good at that."
Meg nodded in agreement. "Seems so."
"So, if I'm being too nosy you can just say so, but if you don't mind telling, how did he save your life?"
"You're fine," Meg assured her. "I was somehow stung by a fire ant while I was out shopping. I'm severely allergic, and I didn't have my EpiPen with me. He and your dad came to my rescue."
"That sounds scary," Grace admitted with a frown. "I'm glad they were there to help."
"Me too." She glanced back out at the seemingly endless ocean, momentarily getting lost in her thoughts. The beaches in Hawaii were worlds different from the northeastern states. "Have you always lived here?" she wondered aloud. "In Hawaii, I mean."
"No, we moved here when I was in elementary school. I was actually born in New Jersey."
Small world, mused Meg. She hadn't lived right on the New York / New Jersey Border, but it was just on the other side of the city from her home. "Do you miss your old home in New Jersey?"
Grace took a moment to answer. "Well, I miss my friends there, and my dad's family lives around there, but Hawaii feels like home now. I have friends here, plus this sort of extended family through Danno's job."
It fascinated Meg that Grace called her dad "Danno" instead of "Dad". Apparently, the girl had used that name for her father since she'd begun talking. Meg wondered if she would've had any nicknames for her own father if she'd grown up knowing him.
"So what about you?" Grace continued, interrupting Meg's thoughts. "How long have you lived in Hawaii?"
"Nowhere near as long as you," Meg hedged, not wanting to give away too many details that could find their way back to the commander or the detective. She hadn't said anything to either of them about when she'd arrived in Hawaii, and although she'd traveled under two separate aliases, McGarrett had the fake IDs she'd used. If he looked into the airlines, Meg was sure the man could track her aliases back to New York. The last thing she needed was to give him any ideas.
"Where did you live before you came here?"
Before Meg had a chance to consider how she was going to evade Grace's question, a familiar voice came to her rescue.
"Dinner's here."
Twisting her neck, Meg spied Steve on the back porch, setting several boxes down on a picnic table. Pushing herself to her feet, she brushed some of the sand off her legs. A shower would be in order when she finally went back inside. "I'm glad he's back," Meg said lightly, grateful for the opportunity to change the topic. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry."
Grace grinned. "Me too."
The two teens strolled back towards the house. Steve was just walking out of the house with plates. Charlie was already seated on one of the benches, and Detective Williams was opening the boxes. Meg counted three pizza boxes. Two wouldn't have surprised her with two adults, two teens, and a child, but three seemed a bit excessive. As each lid was lifted, Meg took inventory: one cheese, one pepperoni, and one…
"What is that?" she wondered aloud, staring at the bright yellow and pale pink toppings.
She thought she heard a snicker off to her side. "Ham and pineapple pizza," she heard Steve say.
Lifting her gaze, Meg caught Danny's amused expression before settling her gaze on McGarrett. She wondered what Danny found so funny. "I hate to break this to you, commander, but whatever that is, it's not a pizza." Detective Williams was openly laughing now, but Meg didn't let it deter her. "Dough, tomatoes, mozzarella. You want to throw some pepperoni on there, or maybe a vegetable or two, that's cool, but the only acceptable fruits on any pizza pie are tomatoes and olives."
"The kid clearly knows her pizza," Danny announced smugly.
Meg belatedly wondered whether Steve might find her comments disrespectful, but he just shrugged his shoulders. "No problem. More for me."
Breathing a sigh of relief, the teen took a seat beside Grace. "Now Joe's… Joe's makes a good pie."
No longer laughing, Detective Williams stared at her. "Did you just say Joe's?" he asked as if he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.
It took maybe a second and a half for understanding to dawn on her. Shit, she thought. Grace had said they were from New Jersey. If it had been anywhere near New York City, it was entirely possible that Detective Williams knew the pizza place she had mentioned.
"Why do you have that face, Danny?" Steve questioned.
Tearing his gaze from Meg, Danny looked at Steve. "Joe's is probably the best pizza in New York City. The place is crazy popular. I used to pick up a slice there whenever I was in the city."
Several sets of eyes were now focused on Meg. She needed to come up with a way to quickly get herself out of this before it became a mess. Did she want to play off the fact that there had to be other restaurants named Joe's or did she want to claim she'd experienced it while on vacation?
"Different Joe's," Meg said, hoping her shoulder shrug and tone were casual enough. "I'm sure it's a popular name for pizza or Italian places."
Two pairs of eyes, in particular, scrutinized her for what seemed like just short of an eternity before they seemed to accept her answer. "Go ahead and serve yourselves," announced Steve. "I'll go grab drinks."
"Do you want some help?" Meg immediately offered.
"I've got it," he assured her. "Grab a slice of pizza and start eating."
At a quarter 'til ten that evening, Meg stretched out on her bed, already donned in her pajamas. Her phone was in her hand, and she had a private browser opened as she logged onto one of her social media accounts. She knew she shouldn't – her mom would've had a fit if she'd known – but Meg couldn't help it. She had to know what was going on back home. Meg wasn't stupid enough to use the actual app – that would be much easier for the commander to access if he searched her phone while she was asleep.
The notifications and private messages were in the dozens. Yup, her friends had definitely noticed her absence. There were posts on her page, private messages wondering what had happened, and even posts other people had tagged her in, hoping to get some sort of response. This wasn't good. There didn't seem to be any sign of a police investigation so far, at least not from the posts she could see, but it was only a matter of time.
Meg wondered if she should make a post on her place claiming she and her mother were out of town for a family emergency. Her closest friends believed her mother to be her only family, at least in the states, but it was easy enough to say something had happened with some long lost relative. She could even claim they were in Germany visiting her maternal grandmother's family. Surely Meg could make a post without her location showing up in private mode.
A little voice in the back of her mind pointed out that if everyone thought she was out of town or overseas, though, no one would be looking for her mother. What if her mom was hurt or trapped and needed help? Was Meg really willing to cut off any chances of her mother being rescued in that event simply to throw the trail off herself?
Maybe she could say that she was out of the country visiting extended family but her mom was still home?
Before Meg could make a decision, she heard footsteps in the sunroom. At once she closed the private browser, any record of her previous activity now erased. Moments later Steve stood in the doorframe. "Ready for bed already," he mused. "I'm impressed."
"I'm kind of tired," she fudged, setting her phone on the nightstand as she curled up on her side and pulled the sheet up to her waist. The commander coming up to "tuck her in" had become a routine, and to be perfectly honest, it was Meg's favorite part of the day. Sure, she was stuck dwelling on the unknowns as she waited for her mind to shut down for the night, but even with all of the uncertainty, Meg felt safe in that bed. She didn't know where her mother was or if her mother was okay or if anyone would come looking for her, but she believed the commander wasn't going to let anything happen to her if he had anything to say about it. Judging from his reaction the first night when she'd had that nightmare, Meg felt McGarrett might actually be able to protect her.
It wasn't enough for her to spill her secrets, but it was a shard of peace that would hopefully grow.
Steve set an unopened water bottle on the nightstand, surprising Meg as he hadn't done so any other night. "You're a little pink," he told her as he rested an unexpectedly cool hand on her forehead. "Even with the sunscreen, I think you might have gotten a little too much sun. Is your skin sore?"
She hadn't really paid much attention when she'd showered, and Meg wondered just what she looked like. It couldn't be that bad, she figured, as she didn't feel like she had a sunburn. "No."
"You feel a bit warm, so I want you to drink some extra water before you go to sleep. I have aloe and Tylenol in my bathroom if you start to feel uncomfortable."
"Thank you," she said. Sitting up momentarily, she unscrewed the bottle cap and gulped down half of the bottle, surprised by her sudden thirst. Feeling refreshed, she recapped the bottle and set it down so she could lie down once more.
Steve's hand returned to her forehead, this time brushing away her hair. "Good night, Meg," he said gently. "Sweet dreams."
Meg yawned as she began to feel sleepy. "Good night, commander."