Page 67 of Shark’s Pride

“At least the noise level has quieted,” I commented.

“That’s weird,” Abbi replied. “Because that sound was still going on when I first walked over here—and it was definitely coming from the pool. It looked like the entire thing was a boiling hot pot.”

I stared harder. Because of the lack of light, it was difficult to see the pool water in general, but I could tell it wasn’t its usual turquoise clarity. Debris was scattered throughout the murky depths, but it was tough to identify what the junk was.

“Can you tell what all that is?” She pointed in an all-encompassing motion to the water.

“Not really.”

“But I’m not going crazy, right? It’s like some bizarre stew…or something…right?”

“It definitely seems to be moving beyond basic wind ripples.”

“I mean, what could be in there? Fish, do you think? It is saltwater.”

I turned at her question and immediately winced. Her pallor was worse than before. Maybe even a little green.

“Fish,” she echoed, managing a shaky nod. “Yeah, I think you’re right. But if so, why are they in there? What does this mean?”

As I stepped—well, stomped—backward, I balled my fists. “It means someone’s been on the property again.”

Goddammit.

I kept the oath to myself but not its source—my mounting rage. What was I paying my security team for, if these criminals were able to just come and go as they pleased? And now, in my mind, this was criminal activity. Even if it was just a bunch of neighborhood kids—though everything in my instincts said it wasn’t—what was their end game? And if this wasn’t just some bored teens pulling a summer prank, who’d done this? And what message were they trying to send?

I had more questions than answers. But I was certain of one thing. Abbi didn’t look willing or able to help me probe for facts. Shit, my own guts were churning like the waters at which I gazed.

“I’m…I’m going to go see if Tawny’s okay.” Abbi’s declaration was stamped with strength, despite how she still clutched at her midsection. “I have a bad feeling in my stomach about all this.”

“Good idea,” I encouraged. “Maybe she saw or heard something.”

“Maybe you should call Elijah,” she ventured.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” I growled while following Abbi over to the pool house. We knocked on the door of the casita several times but didn’t get an answer. I sorted through the keys on the ring in my pocket until finding the spare for the door in front of us. When we got inside, the place was empty.

And in complete shambles.

Light furniture was toppled. Small décor items were in pieces on the floor. A few pictures were askew, albeit still hanging on the walls. It looked like a skirmish had ensued inside the three small rooms.

“Wow.” Abbi swept her gaze around the room. “I wouldn’t have pegged her for a slob, for some reason.”

“She isn’t. Elijah’s checked in on the place a few times since Tawny’s been staying here. He’s told me that she’s kept everything neat as a pin.” As soon as I uttered it, a defined dread rose in my psyche—and a string of profanity gritted from between my teeth. “Don’t touch anything,” I dictated. “I mean it, Abbi. Stand back. Someone else has been in here. Something’s really wrong.”

As I spoke, I yanked out my phone. I finished the command while jabbing the Send button, zooming my text to Elijah.

Something’s happened to Tawny. She’s not at the pool house, and the place looks ransacked. Pull the security tapes from the last twelve hours and get over here.

I’d barely tapped the Send key when his response buzzed through.

Be there in ten.

“Let’s get out of here,” I advised Abbi. “We shouldn’t disturb anything.”

I gently pulled her toward the door, making a mental note to never agree to another date night as long as I lived. Talk about an evening that had become a disaster.

“Sebastian?”

I looked down to where Abbi was again burrowing into the crook of my arm. She met my stare fully, though hers was bottomless with pensiveness.