Page 67 of Savage Don

It is one of those expensive architectural features that seems designed primarily to make ordinary swimming pools feel inadequate. Water spills from a low stone wall into a narrow channel before running into the main pool, and a row of flat steppingstones crosses the shallow section beside it.

Anya swims toward the steps while a guard follows along the edge.

I watch her for a moment, then turn back toward the terrace.

Irina is standing beside Nikolai again, saying something to him while he dries his hair. She reaches toward his shoulder, brushing away a drop of water with her fingers, and I become fascinated by a nearby potted plant.

I really need to stop doing this.

Viktor's phone rings, and he steps away to answer it.

I decide I have seen enough of the pool for one afternoon and start toward the house.

Then I hear Anya call my name. “Elle, look what I found!” she says.

I turn.

She is standing on the shallow steps near the fountain, holding something small and shiny in her hand.

A coin, perhaps.

Or one of those decorative stones that rich people apparently scatter around their gardens for reasons I have never understood.

She points toward the narrow channel. “There are more over there,” she says.

I look where she is pointing.

The steppingstones cross the water toward a small, raised platform, but one of them is partly submerged, and the stone beside it is covered in a dark, slick layer of algae.

Anya starts toward it.

My stomach tightens. “Wait, sweetheart,” I call.

She stops and looks at me. “What?”

“Don't step on that one.”

She glances down. “Why?”

“Because it's slippery, and I would prefer not to spend another afternoon discovering how expensive your family's medical care is.”

She giggles. “I can do it.”

“I know you can but let me see what you're trying to get first.”

I walk toward her, carefully avoiding the wettest part of the terrace.

The guard is only a few yards away, speaking to another man near the pool equipment. He looks over when I approach.

Anya points again. “There. The shiny one.”

I follow her finger.

A small silver bracelet with is lying near the edge of the channel, just beyond the slippery stone. There’s something very familiar about I, but I don’t quite know where to place it.

I can see why she wants it. I can also see that reaching it would require her to lean over the water from a surface that looks about as trustworthy as my last landlord.

“Okay, stay there,” I tell her. “I'll get it.”