Page 17 of Maliea's Hero
“No,” Maliea said. “Some think the ship wrecked on the coast of Niihau. The legend goes further to tell of the pirates transferring their booty to shore before another storm followed the first and swept the ship’s remains out to sea. The ship was never seen again. Nor were the pirates. Or so they say.”
“Maybe the inhabitants of Niihau ganged up on the pirates and either forced them to assimilate or be killed.”
Maliea’s lips pulled back in a tight smile. “As territorial as the inhabitants of Niihau are, I wouldn’t put it past them. They fought hard against joining the United States as part of Hawaii, the fiftieth state. They like their solitude and intend to keep it that way.”
Reid nodded. “I saw that. They were never happy to have us training on their island.”
“Even before my father and then my husband became obsessed with the lost treasure of Red Beard, others tried to follow the path of the ship and the tales of its cargo being offloaded onto one of the islands.”
“If there’s no map, did your father keep a journal of his interviews and discoveries?”
“I need to go to his apartment and his office to sort through his papers and online files.” Maliea pushed the hat back on her forehead and adjusted the sunglasses. “If he was chasing the treasure, he might have made notes from the information obtained from descendants.” She met Reid’s gaze. “Do you think the person who trashed my apartment and tried to get into my car was looking for my father’s work?”
Reid shrugged. “It’s possible. Treasure hunters can resort to some crazy stunts and murder to get their hands on a treasure.”
“From what I know and my conversations with my father, he hadn’t found it.”
“Yet?”
She nodded. “Yet. He was certain he was getting closer to the clue he needed to finally locate the treasure. Thus, the trip to Niihau.” Maliea looked away. “What my father and my husband didn’t understand was that all the treasure they needed was right here on Oahu all along.”
“You and Nani,” Reid concluded. He reached across the table and took her hands in his. “Family is everything. Money doesn’t warm your heart like watching your little girl grow up, learning new and exciting things every day.” Reid’s jaw hardened, and his lips pressed into a tight line.
“You sound like you speak from experience,” Maliea said softly.
He nodded. “I do, but that’s not what’s important. I’d bet my right arm that whoever broke into your apartment and car is looking for your father’s notes. Basically, the treasure map.”
Maliea tilted her head to the side. “It makes more sense when I think of it that way.”
“If he’s still looking for it...” Reid grinned.
“He hasn’t found it.” Maliea’s eyes widened. “I need to get to my father’s office and sort through his journals and online files.”
“And since your husband was working with your father to find the treasure, you’ll want to go through his office as well.”
Maliea gave a brief dip of her head. “I’ll call and make an appointment with the department chair to clean out my father’s and Taylor’s offices as soon as possible.”
She might not have a home to go to anytime soon, but at least she could help find the treasure. And if she found it, would they let her keep some of it? It would help solve her financial difficulties and maybe even fund her return to college, where she could earn a degree in a career field people were eager to hire, like nursing.
Maliea pulled her cell phone from her pocket and selected the number for the university operator when a woman’s voice answered, “University of Hawaii. How can I direct your call?”
“I’d like to speak to the head of the history department, please,” Maliea said. How many times had she used those same words, calling her father over the years?
The same lump formed in her throat that came about every time she thought of her father and the realization she’d never hear his voice again.
“This is Andrea Peterson, executive secretary of the Department of History. How may I help you?”
“Oh, Andrea, it’s Maliea.” Maliea’s voice cracked. She had to swallow hard past the lump in her throat.
“Maliea, honey, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been worried about you. How are you and Nani holding up?”
“I’m doing okay,” she lied. “Nani’s fine. I need to come to the department and pick up my father’s and Taylor’s things.”
“Of course,” Andrea said in her sweetest motherly voice.
Maliea had known Andrea for over fifteen years. She’d been the woman she’d leaned on after her mother had passed. Her father had done the best he could, but his heart was more into history and research and less into fashion and things that might interest a teenage daughter. He’d sent her to Andrea when she’d had female questions. Andrea had been more than willing to help Maliea, having raised three daughters of her own.
“I’m sorry I haven’t dealt with this sooner. It’s just...” Maliea fought for the right word and settled on, “hard.”