Vanessa paced beside him wearing a white silk robe.
“Marcus is making us look ridiculous.”
Grant didn't look up.
“Then stop responding to him.”
“He keeps asking for the drainage records.”
“Let the manager handle it.”
She stopped.
“Grant.”
He sighed.
“What?”
“He has a laboratory report.”
Grant looked up.
For a moment, his expression changed.
“What kind of report?”
“Something about dioxin.”
The word made him still.
Vanessa noticed.
“What?”
Grant lowered his eyes toward the presentation.
For several seconds, he didn't answer.
Then he asked, “Where did he get it?”
“An environmental consultant.”
Grant closed the laptop.
“Has he sent it to the county?”
“I don't know.”
His jaw tightened.
“Find out.”
Vanessa stared.
“Why?”
He stood.
“Because I need to know whether he's creating a problem for the development.”
She folded her arms.
“He's using it as an excuse to keep us off his property.”
Grant looked toward her.
“Vanessa, if he's claiming contamination, don't go near that pool.”
She laughed.
“Oh, please.”
“I mean it.”
The seriousness in his voice surprised her.
For a moment, she stared.
Then narrowed her eyes.
“Did Derek tell you something about the soil?”
Grant's expression changed.
He looked away.
Vanessa felt her stomach tighten.
“Grant?”
He walked toward the window.
“Derek said the material was compliant.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
For several seconds, he remained silent.
Then answered.
“There were questions about the source.”
Vanessa stared.
“What questions?”
“Nothing conclusive.”
She felt a surge of anger.
“You told me the project was properly documented!”
Grant turned.
“And you signed the contract.”
The accusation struck her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Vanessa's face hardened.
“I'm going to end this.”
Grant frowned.
“What does that mean?”
She reached for her phone.
“Marcus has been making accusations in front of the board. I'll show everyone he's exaggerating.”
Grant stepped forward.
“Vanessa, don't.”
But she was already walking toward the bedroom.
She'd decided to record herself entering the allegedly dangerous swimming pool.
The video would demonstrate, she believed, that Marcus's warnings were absurd.
She would present it at the next HOA meeting.
Laugh at his supposed overreaction.
And use the embarrassment to pressure him into accepting the association's demands.
She changed into her deep-magenta one-piece swimsuit.
Styled her blonde bob.
Applied waterproof makeup.
And took her phone.
Before leaving, she opened the HOA access application on her device.
Months earlier, during a community security-system upgrade, the management company had issued emergency maintenance credentials for designated personnel.
Vanessa's access should have been limited to authorized common-area purposes.