Read Split for Free Online Page B

she caught a slightly gooey look on her father’s face.
    Wow.
    Is this…are they…interested in each other?
    She stole a glance at Ann’s ring finger. Nothing. Wow, again. “Was married to Sergeant Morgan,” he’d said the night before. Was. Obviously she’d kept her married name. When did all this happen?
    “So, you’re visiting the island?” Mak asked casually.
    “Yes. I have some friends here, but I live in Vancouver. You do as well, I hear?”
    “Yup. Kitsilano.”
    “I’m not too far from there. Not quite as cool an area though, I’m afraid. Kits is nice.”
    “I like it.”
    “I still prefer Victoria,” Theresa interjected over a fork loaded with rice.
    “Yes, it’s very pretty here,” Ann said. “The ‘Garden City’. We’re not far from Butchart Gardens, are we? I haven’t been for ages.”
    Les looked up. “Umm…Perhaps we could make a day of it when you come to the island next?” The words came out a little awkwardly.
    Bold, Dad. Very bold, Mak thought. Go for it.
    “That would be nice.”
    I can’t believe I am witnessing my dad setting up a date.
    “This chicken’s great, Dad,” Theresa said, oblivious to the conversation. “I just taught him the recipe,” she added proudly.
    He smiled good-naturedly.
    “Well, my son Connor has just mastered toast,”Ann said, and everyone laughed. “I can tell when he’s sick of junk food because he shows up unannounced and cleans out my fridge—”
    The pealing of the telephone broke the moment.
    Oh no. Not now.
    “I’m not answering the phone,” Mak blurted out.
    The call echoed through the house, its sound amplified in a chorus through several rooms. There were three phones in the Vanderwall home, and each person at the dining-room table looked up from their meal to stare at the nearest one, which was mounted on the wall in the kitchen. Everyone that is, except Les Vanderwall. He was looking right at Makedde.
    “I’m not answering it,” she said. “We’re in the middle of dinner.” Mak was sitting closest to the phone. Unfortunately her quick nap had not relieved her of her headache, which seemed to flare up further with each consecutive ring.
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’ll get it,” Theresa said and pushed her chair back. She tossed her hair to one side as she stood, and her blonde bob slid back into place perfectly when she straightened her head again.
    “No, don’t get it,” Mak said, half standing now. “We’re eating.”
    But Theresa was already a mere arm’s length from the phone, saying something about how Breanna would wake up crying.
    She snatched up the receiver and answered with, “Vanderwall residence, hello?”
    Mak waited. Her heart was beating way too fast. If it was Andy, she didn’t want to speak to him. Not now. Not with the whole family nearby…especially her sister, and her father’s guest.
    “No, this isn’t Makedde. This is her sister, Theresa. Who is this?” Pause. “ Andrew Flynn ? Oh, really ? I’ve heard a lot about you, Detective. Are you calling from Australia?”
    Mak vaulted from her chair.
    “The FBI Academy? Reeeeeally ?” Theresa went on, her eyes bright with curiosity. She shifted her weight to one leg and put a hand on her hip, turning her back to the dining room.
    Mak reached the kitchen and slid across the linoleum waving her hands to get her sister’s attention and mouthing the words, “I’m not here…I’m not here!”
    “Oh, really? How fascinating …” Theresa heard her approach and shifted her weight back to the other leg, looking over her shoulder and ignoring her sister’s frantic sign language. “Uh-huh.” When Mak was close, Theresa said, “Oh, here she is now—”
    She was smiling as she extended the phone. Mak thought it looked like a “fuck you” smile.
    Mak stood back and shook her head.
    After the receiver was suspended in the air for a while, Theresa brought the phone back to her lips and repeated, “Yup, Makedde’s right here, I’ll put