Page 12 of Shark’s Edge

He sat forward, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, my neck is stiff already. I need a massage. What’s next?” He slumped down lower on the couch to rest his head on the low back cushion.

I scrolled through the calendar app on the monitor that displayed my dashboard—the hub of the inner workings of my life.

“I thought I had a meeting with Pia, but that’s been moved to dinner.” Frustrated, I activated the computer’s virtual assistant. “Siri, page Terryn.”

“Do you mean fucking Terryn?” the voice asked from the built-in speakers.

“Yes!” I turned to Grant. “How am I ever going to retrain that thing?”

He laughed. “I think you’re stuck with it like that. I hope she never hears it, though.”

“Yes, Mr. Shark?”

“Why has my appointment with my sister been moved to dinner?”

“Because the police are here to speak with you. I called to reschedule with Pia, and the first thing she had open was at six. She said if it doesn’t work, you can see her Sunday at Vela’s game.”

“Fine.”

Dead silence.

Then finally, “Sir?”

“What?” I snapped.

“Shall I send in the detectives?”

“Give me three minutes and then send them in.” I mashed my fist onto the keyboard to disconnect the conversation, launching an unwanted web browser window and opening a new email message all at the same time. Muttering a string of profanity, I began quitting the unnecessary applications I’d opened in my frustration.

“You’re going to blow a gasket if you don’t settle down,” Grant mumbled, rubbing his sore neck. I didn’t miss the tension he was holding himself.

“Thank you, wise and healthy one.” I checked my email and spotted an incoming message from my amazing, smart, and sassy niece, Vela. She was only eight, but she already showed her mother’s take-charge temperament.

Dear Uncle Sebastian,

I can’t wait to see you at my soccer game tomorrow. My number is four so you can look for me on the field. Mom says your eyesight isn’t that great because you are so old. She was laughing when she said that, so I think she was just teasing you like she likes to do. After the game we have snacks and juice, but I will share mine with you if you want.

See you tomorrow!

Love,

Vela

That child was one of the few things that brought light into my life. A genuine smile spread across my lips but vanished as Terryn knocked on the door. The escape was nice for the two minutes it lasted.

“Email from Vela again? That’s the only time I see that peaceful look on your face.” Grant stood and slid on his suit jacket.

I quickly did the same, buttoning up and pulling the cuffs of my shirt into place.

“Yeah.” I sighed heavily. “She’s so precious. Innocent. I want to protect her from everything. All the bad shit in the world. All the bad people. My sister gave humankind the best gift when she created that little girl. On the other hand, if I ever find the loser who fathered her and then abandoned her . . . ”

With that unpleasant thought, I strode across the room to greet the two police detectives, hoping to convince them I had nothing to do with Tawny Mansfield’s alleged suicide.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” I shook my head, hand outstretched to greet the two detectives.

Terryn looked crestfallen that she’d missed the opportunity to do some sort of dramatic introduction, but when the taller of the two cops clasped my hand heartily and grinned from ear to ear, it became clear to her that introductions wouldn’t be necessary.

Grant stepped in to slap the man’s back in hello. “Josh Peters, how long has it been, man?”