Read Online The Last Treasure by Erika Marks - Free Book Online Page A

unmistakable volume of his disapproval. He’d received a call from Mrs. Wilson, making sure that Liv was feeling better. When her mother had come in to kiss her good night, Liv could still see the shimmer of leftover tears coating her eyes.
    â€œIt’s not fair,” Liv had whispered.
    â€œIt’s not his fault, sweetie. People aren’t always who you think they are. Sometimes they pretend to be someone else when you meet them, because they think you won’t love them otherwise.” Liza had brushed back Liv’s bangs, her eyes filling. “But I’m not sorry we ran away today. Not even a little.”
    Was that what they’d done? Liv had thought they’d taken a trip—her mother had imagined it as so much more.
    Then Liza had pressed her forehead against Liv’s and kept it there. “We can’t call ourselves explorers if we never go anywhere, can we?”
    All explorers face risk. . . .
    Lost in memory, Liv took several seconds to realize that the watery splash of blue twinkling in the leftover moisture on her windshield was parked outside her father’s house, and blood rushed to her scalp. There were two cruisers, one in the driveway, another against the curb. Liv parked and dashed up the stairs, the sweat of panic already coating her upper lip.
God, let him be okay.
    A middle-aged policeman, ruddy-faced and compact, marched out of the front door, palms up to slow her advance.
    â€œI live here. Is my father—?”
    â€œHe’s fine.” A second officer appeared, tall and fair-haired and brushing rain off his sleeves. “He thought he heard someone in the house. We checked around, didn’t see any sign of entry.”
    Liv swallowed hard to catch her breath. Between their shoulders, she could see her neighbor Mrs. Carlin poking out her front door and wearing a condemning frown. She’d be over the next morning, the nosy crow—Liv would put money on it—pretending to give a damn when all she wanted was gossip to share with the Vendells next door.
    She waited until both cruisers had pulled out before she went inside. The sink light was on in the kitchen. The air smelled of lemon disinfectant. She walked carefully into the den andfound her father sitting in the dark, staring out the window onto the street.
    She took a seat at the end of the couch and waited for him to speak. The rain had started again, drops clicking on the roof like tapping nails.
    His eyes remained fixed on the glass. “I left you five messages.”
    She closed her eyes. “I was in the library and I had to mute my—”
    â€œWhat’s the point of having a phone if you won’t answer it?”
    She rose, not wanting this battle tonight. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
    â€œDon’t bother. I had a granola bar. It was the only way I could take my pills.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to do that, Poppy. There was a box of frozen lasagna.”
    â€œThe plastic wrap had a small hole,” he said. “I couldn’t take the chance.”
    Of course not.
    â€œThere’ve been break-ins on this street, Livy.”
    One, six months ago, four blocks away. Kids had opened an unlocked car and stolen two cases of Diet Coke out of the backseat. Liv might have pointed this out if she’d thought there might be any use in it. For a man so enamored of facts—and with such distaste for fantasy—her father confounded her with his twisted logic. Scared her.
    She moved for the stairs.
    â€œYou reek of smoke.”
    She stopped in the doorway, the flush of embarrassment burning her cheeks. “There were people smoking in the car next to mine in the parking lot.”
    â€œDidn’t you tell them you have asthma?”
    â€œIt’s fine, Poppy.”
    â€œYou should have told them. You should have taken out your inhaler and used it then and there. Made them feel a little bit lousy. Selfish