“Are you warm enough?”

The voice startled her, and she looked up. Neale was leaning in the doorway, all angles and shadows and expressions she couldn’t read. She looked away and concentrated on stirring her tea.

“Yes, thanks. I’m fine.” No tears now, Kelsey, not the time, not the place… She wondered if he noticed how her spoon clattered against her cup, how it wobbled though she tried to hold it still.

“About the shark,” Neale said, coming into the room. He paused beside her, and she stiffened. “Are you…sure…you saw it?”

Kelsey’s mouth tightened obstinately. “Why? Do you think I hallucinated everything back there? Like the prowler in my room? Like the body Skip thinks Donna and I made up? You think maybe Justin just washed himself up on the beach to scare us all to death?” She was shocked at her own belligerence. She glanced at Neale, but his look was one of cool assessment.

“The shark,” he said again, as if her outburst had never come. “Couldn’t you have mistaken it for something else?”

“I saw it come up out of the water,” she said stubbornly. “It bumped against my legs—” She shuddered at the memory, her cup rattling in its saucer.

“Lots of things could bump you underwater,” Neale said, going over to the counter, pouring a mug of strong coffee. He raised it halfway to his mouth, his lips pursed to blow. “Fish…driftwood…seaweed…”

“I felt it,” Kelsey said. “I saw it.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t feel and see something.” Neale narrowed his eyes. “But sharkskin feels really different—it’s rough like sandpaper and you could have been scraped pretty bad. I’m just saying that things can seem pretty scary out there on the ocean after dark.”

Kelsey lapsed into uncooperative silence. She felt like she was going to explode.

“Don’t say anything about it,” Neale’s eyes pinned her over the rim of his upturned cup. “At least not just yet.”

“Don’t you think people have a right to know if they’re about to be eaten alive—”

“Sure I do,” he lifted his cup in a mock toast. “And they will. But there’s no need for complete panic about this. Just let me notify the right people so they can handle it the best way. Does that meet with your approval?”

Kelsey looked daggers at him, gripping the hot cup so tightly that her fingers burned. Neale walked out without a word, brushing Donna aside as he went.

“Well!” Donna looked surprised. “What was that all about?”

“I hate his—his—superior attitude!” Kelsey sputtered. “And the way he’s always bossing people around! And he’s always showing up where you don’t expect him—like a snake under a rock. Donna, where was he anyway?”

“When?” Donna groped around in the pantry and pulled out a new tin of coffee.

“Tonight. When Justin and I left.”

“I don’t know. When you and I came down from Skip’s room, I don’t think Neale was around then.”

“I don’t think so, either.” Kelsey’s face puckered in a deep frown, and Donna glanced at her curiously.