While Dawson didn’t mind changing a flat for a kid or a little old lady or old man, he did take issue with helping out a strapping gentleman. “What seems to be the problem?”

“You tell me.” He waved his hand over the rear passenger side.

Dawson knelt, running his hand over the rubber and fingering a slit in the tire. Not just any slit. Nope. It wasn’t jagged. It hadn’t been caused by a rock, a curb, or even a nail. No, Dawson suspected a nice sharp blade had done this damage. “I see your dilemma.” He pulled out his cell, texting one of his deputies to request that he make his way to this location to take the report. If he didn’t at least go through the motions of having it examined, Paul would be down his throat.

“I’m supposed to be back out there with my dad, but this is putting a damper on my day.”

“My deputy is five minutes away. He’ll take a report if that’s what you want. He can even help you change the tire.”

“That’s all fine, but what about dealing with the bitch who did this?” Benson cocked a brow.

“Sounds like you’re making an accusation.”

“Damn right, I am.” Benson nodded. “Audra McCain. She slashed my tire when she was a kid, so why would now be any different?”

“Did you see her lurking around your truck this morning?”

“No. But I’m sure she snuck back in after we all went out. That witch is sneaky like that.”

“So, other than she did it once a long time ago, you have no real reason to believe this was her.” Dawson glanced over his shoulder as his deputy pulled in. “Hang tight here. I’m going to head down to the docks. Everyone has to report in when they return. I’ll find out if Audra has been back at all.”

“That Audra is a slippery one,” Benson said. “I’m sure she could’ve come in under the radar. She knows every nook and cranny of the Everglades—even ones no one else does.”

While Dawson didn’t doubt that Audra knew the area, there weren’t many ways back out into open water, and they all snaked into one channel—the one that went right by Mitchell’s.

He jogged down to the docks and found Fletcher sitting at the far one, chewing on a Twizzler. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

“Just dandy, you?”

“I’ve had better days,” Dawson admitted. “I need a list of who’s come in today.”

“Benson, Ripley, Emmerson and his brother Rhett, and Jonas. That’s it so far, but I suspect we’ll see a few more come in shortly for dinner. Why?”

“Does everyone in this town believe Audra is a bad person?”

“Not everyone, but I’d say more than half, and almost everyone has trust issues with her because they don’t understand her. She doesn’t help herself by being so damn sarcastic and feeding into that shit.”

“Just my luck,” Dawson muttered as he stared at the sky. “I need to ask you a question, and I need a straight answer.”

Fletcher narrowed his stare. “Since when have I ever not been honest with you?”

“Since never, but things in this town sometimes are ass-backward, and I need to know what kind of relationship Ken had with Benson.” Dawson arched a brow.

Fletcher rubbed the back of his neck. “Benson and I have never gotten along, so when he and Ken got a little buddy-buddy, I asked Ken why. He shrugged and said he was just being nice. But Ken also worked for Benson’s dad, so it wasn’t the strangest thing in the world. However, they had words before he decided to join me on my journey into the Navy.”

“What was the fight about?” Dawson asked.

Fletcher rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know. Benson probably said something about Audra. That’s usually what happened.”

“And you never asked Ken to elaborate?”

“No,” Fletcher said. “Is there something I need to know about?”

“I’m not sure, but thanks for the intel,” Dawson said. “I’ll be heading out on the water in a bit. I’ll be in touch later.” He made a beeline for the parking lot. “All right, Benson. Audra hasn’t reported to the docks since this morning.” He raised his hand. “I’ll have a chat with her.” He scribbled the names that Fletcher gave him on a piece of paper and handed it to his deputy. “My man here will question those who have reported in. Also, if you can give us any other names of people who might not like you or have a bone to pick with you, that would be helpful.”

“I gave you a name,” Benson said. “Everyone else in this town loves me.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Dawson turned and headed back to the docks. Specifically, the dock where he parked his airboat. He climbed aboard and did his best to leave the day's problems behind. He checked his watch. He still had another good hour and a half of daylight, and it was a nice afternoon for a boat ride in the Everglades.