Road to Redemption - Michelle Dalton Page 0,9

you like milkshakes?” Lullu giggled.

“Since today.” Mina reached forward and grabbed her daughter, pulling the lanky-limbed teen into her arms. She promptly began to tickle her.

“Sto-o-op.” Lullu laughed as she twisted around, trying to grip the hand causing her laughing fit. “I’m still upset. But a milkshake might fix it … a little.” She squinted at Mina through her index finger and thumb to indicate what she meant.

“Good. I need to shower and get dressed.” Mina sighed inwardly. The distraction had worked this time, but Mina knew it would not keep for long. Lullu was a perfectly sculpted creature who owned equal parts of the good and bad in both her and Ray, and unfortunately, every ounce of their combined stubbornness too.

“School first, and this afternoon after practice, it’ll be you, me, and the shops. But first you need to catch that bus or you’ll be late.” She patted her daughter’s bottom as the girl stood.

With Lullu off at school and her morning planned, Mina sat at her desk, a steaming cup of coffee beside her.

She’d pushed open her large windows and was enjoying the soft sea breeze drifting in. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. The dreams she’d had every night since Ray’s arrival (Check time line!) stayed with her during her days. His touch, his smell—goodness, she had to find a way to forget. Life was a funny thing. Just when you thought you had it sorted it’d always throw the next curveball.

“Miss! Miss!” Klein Piet ran up to her window, eyes wide and lips pale.

“What now?” Mina rose.

“There’s groot kak …”

A bucket of imaginary ice tipped over Mina’s head.

“Sorry, I mean big shit ... agh, miss, I don’t know the words, but Baas Ben, he sent me to fetch you ’cause they broke into warehouse five.” The young boy huffed as he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. His hazel eyes watched her intently. He had a way of making her feel uncomfortable even though he’d never given her reason to doubt him.

Mina gripped her cell phone from her desk. “Tell Ben I’m coming,” she said, and hastily made her way down to the warehouses. Shit a brick! This close to harvesting, she prayed the Abalone were okay. She had insurance on her crop, but fuck sake it still cost to lose or suffer damage.

“God damn bloody poachers!” she muttered as she stomped down the slate-paved steps of her garden, past the inmates’ living quarters, and toward the farthest warehouse numbered five, where abalone was prepared for harvesting or repatriation to the ocean beds.

Poaching was one of Africa’s greatest enemies. It stole, slaughtered, and destroyed without mercy, all for the gain of those who sat high and mighty in their glass towers believing myths of what ground-up horns and shells could provide.

In all her years of having owned Redemption, they had only ever once experienced trouble. She’d thought the security she’d had installed after a heads up from West Coast Conservation last year would have been enough—apparently not.

Huffing, she tapped the phone screen and dialled the local conservation trooper’s number. “Marnus!” she blurted into the receiver when he answered.

“I heard. Ben called. We’re on our way. I’ve let Abbe at the police station know too.”

“Thanks. See you soon,” she replied gratefully and tucked her phone into her pocket as she rounded the western corner of the warehouse, pushed past a few inmates who greeted her solemnly, and entered.

Her heart crashed to the concrete floor beneath her feet. Fuck it was worse than bad… it was…

“They took half our crop.” Ben came to stand beside her.

“And the remaining abalone—are they damaged?”

“No. Simon heard a ruckus and disturbed them.” He nodded toward one of her permanent staff. “We saved one more batch they left on the beach.”

Mina looked up. Ben’s face was hard, his eyes cold, and he did not look back at her.

“And what about the alarm? Why didn’t it go off?” Mina turned and walked to the keypad beside the door.

“Tampered with. Whoever did it knew how to get around this specific system.” Ben grunted.

“What? But there’s supposed to be a failsafe for that. The security company had better have answers.” Mina placed her balled fists on her hips.

“You’ll need to take that up with them. Maybe think of hiring a new group altogether,” he muttered, not looking at her, but focusing on the empty benches where once, baths full of adult abalone had sat.

“This group—are there any of them you suspect?” Mina