Page 4 of Shark’s Edge

“Holy shit,” she muttered as I got closer. Eyes riveted to the TV in the corner.

I rushed back into the prep area as fast as I could. Though the verbal expression was one of Rio’s favorites, there was something extra in it that jolted every hair on my neck. “Holy shit what?”

We’d typically watch the local morning news during our meal prep hours to stay informed about weather and traffic conditions, but it wasn’t Cy the Commute Guy on the screen. Rio was staring at a fresh-faced blonde, newly arrived from Omaha, who’d clearly never had to deliver difficult news. But she had to now, as the word suicide scrolled across the bottom of the screen, accompanied by video footage depicting emergency responder trucks next to a large expanse of water and a massive suspension bridge.

“Oh my God. Is that the Vincent Thomas?”

“Yeah,” Rio rasped.

“Holy crap. Did someone—”

Rio finally located the remote and turned up the volume. “The woman, identified as twenty-seven-year-old Tawny Mansfield from Inglewood, leaped off the iconic bridge in San Pedro during the early morning hours. A dock worker who witnessed the event called 9-1-1. Her body was recovered from the water within hours.”

The newscaster paused to take a drink of water. I didn’t blame the woman. At last, she set down the water bottle and continued.

“The woman, wearing jeans and a sweat shirt, had an airtight plastic bag wrapped around her torso, in which the police located a suicide note with details about Mansfield’s recent breakup with local businessman Sebastian Shark.”

And suddenly I was the one craving a drink.

Maybe two or three.

Within seconds, I was overheated. Aching and agitated. Unable to find the rhythm of my heart, the cadence of my thoughts, or the feeling in my toes.

Because that was what a single mention of Sebastian Shark did to me.

Oh, God. That had to make me the most messed-up person in this city. This state. Maybe in the entire world.

It changed nothing.

“Oh, hell. Sebastian Shark. Why am I not surprised?” Rio said.

Her comment, a bizarre mix of fascination and irritation, affected me like a fist to the gut. I was compelled to defend him. Demand she be fair and not accuse him of something we knew nothing about. All I could think about was how the news must have hit him.

Who the hell was I kidding?

He’d likely hit back even harder. Like he always did. With fire in his eyes, thunder in his swing, and ambition that’d likely be called inspirational in some future news piece.

“Shark, the enigmatic owner and CEO of Shark Enterprises, amassed his substantial fortune in worldwide logistics and shipping.” Cindy was clearly more comfortable with these details of the story. “However, his business portfolio has expanded throughout the years. Recently, he announced plans to construct Shark’s Edge, on target to be the tallest and most luxurious skyscraper in the LA skyline.

“Through our exclusive sources, Spotlight News has learned that Miss Mansfield’s note made references to Shark’s obsession with breaking ground on the building as soon as possible. There were several other items found in the airtight pouch, but as this is an ongoing investigation, those items have been collected as evidence and are confidential at this time.”

Rio sniffed. “Oh, I can imagine what that’s about.”

I backhanded her shoulder. “Stop. Someone’s dead.”

“Exactly. Most likely after that man tossed her out of his life like rotten coleslaw.”

“Coleslaw?”

“Clearly you haven’t had to toss out an old batch lately.”

“For which I’m grateful.”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her close. She returned the embrace, but as we pulled apart, she hurled her next blow to my gut. “So how long do we wait before dropping Shark Enterprises?”

I laughed. Then scowled. Then laughed again. “Uhhh . . . none.”

“Abs.” Her stare turned to fire. “You’re not seriously thinking—”