Danger In The Deep. Karen Kirst
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Crossing the isolated lot, Olivia felt vulnerable. The handful of lampposts weren’t enough to combat the complete November darkness. The panic she’d experienced in the shark tank threatened to erupt.
Ridiculous. She increased her pace. Brady’s suspicions are just that...groundless suspicions.
At the dumpster, she yanked open the side slot and pushed in the bags. Somewhere in the night, a bottle dropped and rolled across concrete. Olivia yelped and pressed her hand to her thrumming heart.
“This has to stop,” she said aloud, squinting into the shadows.
She would not let her imagination play tricks on her.
A rustling noise behind the dumpster had her backing up. When a calico cat leaped out and greeted her with a plaintive meow, she bent to pet it.
“You frightened me, you know that?” she crooned.
Crouched at its level, she spied an odd-shaped bag propped against the concrete-block barrier. The wind tangled with the top flaps and revealed what appeared to be a scuba cylinder.
Olivia reached out, pulled the plastic lower and tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Two cylinders. One silver regular size and a backup orange pony bottle.
Her cylinders. The jagged, superficial scratch near the bottom of the big one proved it.
Her mind whirled. Why were they out here? James couldn’t have had time to get someone out to service them.
Brady’s allegations threw her reasoning into a tailspin. Could he be right?
Could someone have wanted her to encounter trouble in the shark tank?
“Where did Olivia go?” Brady asked.
Annoyance sparked in Maya’s eyes. “She took out the garbage.” With both hands balanced on the child-size plastic chair in front of her, she leaned close. “Tell me more about flying. You pilot a Huey helicopter?”
“SuperCobra. Twin-engine attack helo.” Brady gestured to the kitchen visible through an open doorway. “Did she use that exit?”
“Olivia’s fine. Tell me more about flying.”
“Maybe later.” He strode past the long lunchroom-style tables.
“Captain, look!” Grinning, Michael lifted a slice of pizza stacked with chocolate chip cookies and took a bite.
He gave him a thumbs-up. “Fix me one of those.”
Beaming, the boy nodded. “Yes, sir!”
In the kitchen, he heard a muffled pounding and hurried to open the door. Olivia stood on the stoop, shivering, deep grooves of worry carved into her brow.
“What’s the matter?”
“Come with me.” She seized his hand. “I need to show you something.”
As she led him into the night, he couldn’t help but notice how their palms fit together...and how cold her skin was. Shrugging out of his jacket, he insisted she put it on.
“Look.” Pulling the lapels together, she directed his attention to a pair of diving cylinders. “These are the ones I use.” She ran her fingertip over a scratch. “I knocked into metal lockers a month or so ago.”
“We need to speak to James and find out why he’d discard them here.”
“He’s already gone for the day.”
“Do you have his cell number?”
She tugged her braid free of the jacket collar. “In my office. I lock my phone in my desk drawer during working hours.”
“I’ll go with you to make the call.”
“The tour—”
“The kids are preoccupied right now. They won’t notice our absence.”
After briefing Norman and the other adults, Olivia led him through the darkened, deserted aquarium. They traversed a maze of high walkways and stairs in a multistory area dominated with large tanks featuring river fish. A shallow pool of water occupied the floor level, and they had to cross on skinny platforms. He understood how she could think it peaceful without the hordes of visitors. Still, there was an almost eerie quality to it.
Voices greeted them as they neared the main entrance. A spindly gentleman in a black uniform mopped the floor as another man spun his car keys on his finger.
“Good evening, Mr. Ludwig.” Olivia greeted the pair. “Roman, I thought you’d gone home already.”
Roman stopped the keys’ motion and, balling them into his palm, sized Brady up from behind rimless glasses. “My car won’t start. I’m waiting on a friend to give me a ride home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it’s an inexpensive fix.”
“I do, too.”
“This is Captain Johnson.” Olivia gestured to Brady. “Roman and I are working together on the breeding program I told you about.”
Brady initiated a handshake. He guessed Roman to be in his late thirties, early forties. He had wavy brown hair and a short, scruffy beard streaked with silver and reddish gold. Like Olivia, he wore khakis and a blue polo bearing the aquarium emblem.
“I heard about your dive,” Roman said, his bushy brows descending over sharp gray eyes. “Any chance you got our eggs before you ran out of air?”
The guy’s disregard for Olivia’s welfare irked Brady.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she responded good-naturedly. “Why don’t you get your dive cert and retrieve them yourself?”
“Touché.” Through the floor-to-ceiling glass, a car pulled into view and honked. “That’s my ride.”
“See you tomorrow.”
As they entered a bunker-like underground corridor linking the aquarium’s river and ocean buildings, Olivia shot Brady a sideways glance. “Roman’s grumpiness has earned him a nickname around here. We call him ‘Gruffy’ behind his back.”
“Do you like working with him?” His voice echoed off the stark cement walls and floor.
“He’s dependable. I can’t recall a time he’s come in late or called in sick.”
“Would you say he’s an equal contributor to your project?”
She fiddled with one of her silver dolphin earrings. “While he doesn’t generate ideas, he’s a decent problem solver.”
The