For a moment, she seemed irritated that he continued refusing to surrender the argument.
Then she read the bold red warning.
DIOXIN CONTAMINATION DETECTED — POOL CLOSED PENDING ENVIRONMENTAL REMEDIATION.
Beneath it, the report listed laboratory findings for contaminated sediment and filtration material collected from the swimming pool system.
Vanessa's face changed.
The smug smile disappeared.
Her fingers tightened against the stone coping.
“What is that?”
“An independent laboratory report.”
She stared at him.
Marcus continued, struggling to keep his voice steady.
“The water looks clear because the suspended material settled and the filter trapped part of it. The contamination isn't something you can judge by looking at the surface.”
Vanessa glanced toward the water around her body.
For the first time, she seemed to understand that the apparently beautiful pool might contain something she couldn't see.
Her breathing became quick.
“You're trying to frighten me.”
Marcus shook his head.
“I've been trying to keep everyone out of it.”
She looked toward the report again.
Then whispered, “Dioxin?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
She glanced toward her submerged arms.
Then toward the steps at the shallow end.
“Get me out.”
Marcus moved toward the pool steps.
“Use the steps carefully. Don't splash. We'll contact the appropriate medical and environmental professionals and follow their instructions.”
Vanessa began moving toward the shallow end.
Her composure had vanished.
The woman who had arrived expecting to humiliate her neighbor now looked desperately uncertain about what she'd done.
She reached the first step.
Then stopped.
“Marcus?”
He looked toward her.
Her voice trembled.
“Where did it come from?”
For a moment, Marcus said nothing.
He'd been asking that question for eleven days.
The laboratory could establish that particular contaminants had been detected in the samples. It couldn't tell him who had introduced them, why they were present, or whether the contamination extended beyond his backyard.
But Marcus had found something else that morning.
Something he hadn't yet shared with Vanessa.
He looked toward the landscaped retaining wall at the rear of his property.
Beyond it stood a newly constructed drainage channel paid for by the homeowners association.
He remembered the heavy trucks that arrived during the previous summer.
The gray soil dumped behind the wall.
The complaints he'd filed about runoff entering his property.
And Vanessa's insistence that the HOA's contractor had completed the work properly.
Then he looked back at her.
“I don't know everything yet,” he said. “But the contamination started appearing after your association rebuilt the drainage system.”
Vanessa went still.
For one brief moment, the fear on her face changed into something Marcus hadn't expected.
Recognition.