He sighed. That’s what worried him.

The people walked in twos and threes and sometimes bunches of eight—families and friends out for a good time and some sun and surf. Long-legged beauties sporting string bikinis and roller blades skated through the crowded throng with skilled precision, announcing their approach by the rumble of wheels on the boardwalk.

Body builders, greasy and brown as a bag full of fries, bulged appropriately whenever anyone was watching, and sometimes just for their own satisfaction.

Skateboards swished and swooped, their lone occupants performing dangerous yet graceful acrobatics, defying the law of gravity, as they came and went through the crowds with unpredictable regularity.

“Clinton, Oklahoma, was never like this,” Debbie muttered.

Cole grinned. He knew what she meant. He’d spent just enough time on Case Longren’s ranch to get an appreciation of the peace and quiet the people in rural Oklahoma took for granted. It had been something of a culture shock to him when he’d first seen all that wide, open space and all those cows. But by the time he’d left, the culture shock had been reversed, and it had taken him a week to reacclimatize himself to the sounds of sirens day and night and the growing numbers of people with which he had to contend on a day-to-day basis.

A trio of young males came swooping past, wearing cutoff jeans, frayed and frazzled, with white strings dangling to just above their knees, their bare arms and chests gleaming in a rich array from dark chocolate skin to pink and peeling. Their means of locomotion—the latest fad in skating—roller blades.

Debbie was jostled as they passed. She grabbed at her bag as her sunglasses fell to the pavement. Cole caught her just in time, preventing her from following her glasses’ descent.

Something about the trio’s frenetic movements alerted Cole. He frowned. They were pushing the limits of what constituted beach etiquette. Granted, it was crowded, but they were still plowing their way through the people with no concerns save their own. A young man staggered as the trio rolled past, and a woman yelled a rude obscenity and flashed a following gesture.

“Are you all right?” he asked sharply.

“I’m fine,” Debbie said. “It was just an accident.” Wasn’t it? The last of her statement remained unspoken.

She sensed Cole’s uneasiness as she picked up her sunglasses and stuffed them in her bag. She took one quick look at his face. He was watching the trio sweep a path through the crowd.

Suddenly, the boy in the middle did a 360-degree turn around an elderly couple and, before her eyes, snatched the huge beach bag off the lady’s shoulder.

“Cole!” Debbie gasped, but it was an unnecessary warning. He’d already seen it coming.

“Wait here,” he ordered. He turned to a hot dog vendor and yelled, “Call the police!”