Page 31 of Secrets in Calusa Cove

“You sure took a long time to tell me that she respects the land more than the rest of us.”

“I wanted you to understand there was a bigger reason as to why.”

Dawson nodded. He’d been to Remy’s house for dinner and had experienced some of his native culture. Dawson loved nature. Valued it. He wanted to make sure it was there for centuries to come. But it wasn’t the same as Remy and his people’s love or connection to the land.

“I want someone watching those two men. If not you or one of our deputies, I want someone from my team,” Dawson said. “How do you feel about that, since bringing in anyone other than Fish and Wildlife goes against protocol?”

“Considering what happened to Audra out there today, I got no problem with it,” Remy said.

“All right. I’ll text everyone. Mind sitting here until they head back to my cabins?”

“Not at all. I’ll enjoy pulling them over for a breathalyzer.”

Dawson laughed. “Just make sure you have cause.” He opened his car door. Time to deal with the redhead.

CHAPTER6

Audra slowedher SUV to a snail’s pace as she drove down her old street. It wasn’t on the way to Harvey’s Cabins. No, it was two miles in the wrong direction, but she had to see it, even if nothing was there but a stupid vegetable stand.

Her childhood home—gone. Destroyed. Ken had told her that the Wheelers had leveled the old shack and used the property as a stand to sell all the things they grew on their land right next door. She knew when she’d sold them the house, they wouldn’t keep it. Why would they? The place had been barely inhabitable. It probably should have been condemned years before. Something was always broken. There were leaky pipes, the kitchen sink constantly dripped, and the water wasn’t drinkable.

Victor, this is no place to raise a child. You need to consider Audra. She needs a proper home. Proper clothes. A proper upbringing. It doesn’t take a lot of money, but you either need to do better or let someone else.

Silas’s words rattled in her mind. She’d been all of eight years old when she’d first heard him say them. The old pirate had come to pick on her dad, pushing him around to take what didn’t belong to him.

After her mother had died, she’d honestly worried someone would take her away. That someone would call child protective services and accuse her father of being an incompetent parent.

She’d always believed that a knock on the door would come because of Silas.

But it had never happened.

Her father hadn’t been a bad dad. He’d been loving and kind, always generous with his time. Food was always on the table, even if it was mostly mac and cheese, bologna sandwiches, or whatever fresh fish they caught. The only thing he’d been guilty of was a broken heart and having a mental illness.

She stared at the stand where the house used to be, and memories flooded her brain—both good and bad.

Christmas mornings had been a joyous time in her house. Presents hadn’t been the focus, even though there was always a stocking and one or two gifts. Her parents had done their best with what little they’d had. But the big breakfast, followed by a day out in the Everglades, had made that day so special.

It was that tradition that had started the whispers about her family being swamp monsters.

Talk about crazy. All they’d done was honor their ancestors, following the traditions of her mother’s Native American culture.

A car whizzed past. It was a big, shiny, fancy new SUV—an expensive kind.

She whipped a tear from her cheek. Ken had picked her up in a bright, fancy limo for prom. They’d shared it with Baily and Fletcher. What an epic night that had been.

How she’d wished her mom had been there to see her all dolled up in a dress. Her mother would have loved to see that. Audra had even worn high heels and makeup. She chuckled at the memory, but it was cut short as she remembered the day she’d watched her mom take her last breath.

She punched the gas and did a U-turn.

Too much pain. Too much sorrow. And this town brought it all back.

She passed the marina’s entrance and drove through the center of town. Massey’s Pub was lit up like the Fourth of July. Those hunters who hadn’t gone back out into the Everglades were hanging out, bragging about the snakes they’d caught—or exaggerating about the size of the ones that had gotten away.

She squinted and eased her foot off the gas, staring at the two men Dawson had arrested for bring dynamite to the python hunt. “What the hell are those two still doing in town?” she whispered. “And with Benson.” She really needed to stop talking to herself. But seriously, that was a weird trio. One that didn’t make sense.

One of the city boys turned his head, and she swore he smiled at her, but that was impossible. She was across the street and hidden behind tinted windows.

She took the turn at the light. Harvey’s Cabins was the next left. Harvey always had an opening. The cabins weren’t much to write home about. They were small one-room suites with a bed, a sofa, a TV, a table with two chairs, and a small kitchenette. They were clean-ish.

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