Zach’s gaze returned to the wiring. “Good news?”
“It’s clean work.”
His eyes narrowed. “Bad news?”
“Whoever did it knows what they're doing.”
Not random vandalism. Not amateur sabotage. Zach’s mind raced through the implications. Test point. Stress trigger. Delayed failure.
A stress test.Someone testing the resort’s infrastructure. Learning its vulnerabilities.
That’s what I think.David confirmed.
Zach pulled out his phone, hit a contact. “I want every maintenance staff member at the Spa Utility Deck. Now.” He disconnected without waiting for a response.
David pushed to his feet. “If you’ve got this, I’ll check the pool equipment room.”
“Do it. Keep me informed.”
David took two steps away, then paused. “FYI: Nick and I are heading to the main island later today for a meeting with the inspector. We’ll be back in the morning, so don’t expect us tonight.”
Zach nodded once. “Keep your phone on.”
David left. Silence settled.
Zach stood alone with the open panel. He paced outward, scanning the perimeter. Foot placement. Disturbed ground. Entry path. The dirt near the panel showed light compression. Nothing obvious, but not untouched either. No discarded tools. No debris other than that one screw.
Whoever did this hadn’t lingered. In and out. Professional.
He circled again, slower this time. The bamboo screening swayed in the breeze. Beyond it lay the hardened path. Clean access. Clean exit.
The crew arrived within ten minutes. Five men, all wearing work shirts and tool belts. He studied them as they approached. Posture. Eye movement. Breathing. No one broke formation. No one avoided his gaze. Confused looks.
Good.
Or well-trained.
“Who worked the north utility run this morning?” Zach asked.
Answers came rapidly, overlapping. No hesitation. He let the silence stretch after. People filled silence. No one added anything.
“Anyone access this panel since installation?”
Head shakes. Firm. No tells. Just discomfort at being questioned.
“Are any temporary workers on site today?”
A pause. There. The youngest guy—early twenties, baseball cap backwards—shifted his weight.
“Uh… yeah. I saw someone clearing brush. Thought he was landscaping.”
Zach’s attention sharpened. “You’re in maintenance. How’d you know about him?”
“He asked me about a work order for the spa deck. He said you cleared it—you wanted the brush cut back a little more.”
Zach went still. “Used my name specifically?”
“Yeah,” the kid swallowed. “Said Zach Steele signed off.” The kid’s eyes widened. “That wasn’t right?”
