“Any camera feeds near the maintenance road?” she asked.
“Two,” he said, brow furrowed. “But guess what—they went offline around 2 am.” He looked up and offered a lopsided grimace that didn’t quite pass for a smile. “Whoever trashed the water plant planned their route well.”
Lena wet her lips, the taste of salt and copper sharp in her mouth, like she’d bitten her tongue. “That’s not a coincidence.”
“Nope.” David leaned back again, but now alertness returned to his eyes. “I’ll run facial recognition on what’s stored before the outage. More fun for later.”
The path widened, and the resort buildings came into view like the calm center of a storm. Everything looked normalfrom here—guests sipping breakfast mimosas on balconies, staff setting up the pool deck with practiced efficiency. It was a polished illusion, all of it.
Lena no longer trusted quiet moments.
A rivulet of sweat slid down her spine as the aroma of bacon and fresh coffee drifted toward them from the open door of the cafeteria—an indecently normal smell. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since—god, yesterday?
David hopped out of the cart first when she parked, stretching with a husky groan. “That was not even remotely five minutes. You should consider a side hustle in stunt driving.”
Lena offered a half-laugh, but it didn’t quite land. Her thoughts were still on black metal and tinted glass and the way the air had thickened around her back like someone breathed down it. Even now, her nape still tingled in awareness.
David tilted his head. “Hey. You okay?”
She looked at him—really looked—and saw that beneath the sarcasm and tech obsession, he was as tense as she. His jaw was clenched, not slack with exhaustion. His fingers hovered near his tablet, like he couldn’t let it go, not even for breakfast.
“No,” she said. “But I will be. After I eat, maybe yell at more people, and figure out what the hell a black SUV is doing creeping around with staff missing and the water system trashed.”
David gave her the smallest nod. Solid. Resolute. “We’ll figure it out. You, me, Zach, and hopefully the rest of our missing crew if they ever show up. One thing at a time.”
She swallowed down the knot still lodged in her throat, but nodded back.
He entered the cafeteria first, and she followed him in—straight into the chilly, air-conditioned brightness that smelled like cinnamon rolls and panic held at bay. Before she let thedoors slip shut behind her, she cast one last peek over her shoulder.
The jungle lay stifled. Still. But it didn’t fool her for a second.
Chapter 20
Feline Incursion
David’s officedoor was cracked open, a beam of light slanting out into the hallway like a beacon in the dimly lit corridor.
Lena bent down to peer under a row of decorative ferns that lined the executive wing. “Minx, I swear to god?—”
A chirp answered her, followed by a crash that echoed through the stillness. It definitely came from the direction of David’s office.
Lena winced, her stomach dropping. That was glass. Expensive glass, knowing David’s tastes.
“Great,” she pushed the door open to slip inside. The familiar aroma of coffee and ozone—the smell of electronics working overtime—washed over her. “David will think I planted a spy.”
The sight that greeted her nearly made her laugh out loud, despite the mounting dread of what mischief her kitten had caused.
David, on one knee by his server tower, was frozen mid-debug, one hand still reaching toward a tangle of cables. A glass of water lay tipped over on his desk, its contents spreading across a laptop in a slow-motion disaster. Remnants of what looked like high-tech glasses lay shattered. A line of wet paw prints trailed across his tablet like abstract art, and papers werescattered around the floor as if a tiny hurricane had touched down.
In the middle of it all, tail crooked like a question mark, sat Minx. Regal. Innocent. A smug but tiny empress surveying her conquered kingdom.
David’s mouth was taut, but his eyes held something else—not anger, as she expected. It was more like a man trying to solve an equation that kept changing variables.
He didn’t look at her—yet.
“I think your cat just rewrote part of the HVAC control algorithm.” His voice carried that deadpan quality of his brand of humor. He wiped his hand on a microfiber cloth, his motion precise and controlled.
Lena’s lips twitched. “She’s ambitious.” She crossed the room and scooped up Minx, who went boneless in her arms, purring like she hadn’t just committed corporate sabotage. “Probably wanted to see what all the glowing buttons were about.”
