Page 4 of Secrets in Calusa Cove

“Audra, you’ve got to stop telling that story. It makes you sound as crazy as your dad.”

She pursed her lips. “Are you going to sit there and tell me the bumps on the back of my head aren’t real?”

“No. But it makes more sense that it was an accident, and that’s the tale you need to tell. There was damage to your dad’s airboat. Before someone found you, you had to use an oar to get close to the docks. You and your dad ran into something out there, and you fell and hit your head. It’s a miracle that you didn’t fall into the water yourself. You go off the rails about someone trying to kill him…” Ken let the words trail off as he let out a long sigh.

Thank God. Because she would have popped him in the mouth if he’d kept talking.

But that wasn’t going to stop her from laying into him either.

“Are you kidding me? Explain to me how my father got dumped into the water if he was the one driving and I was crawling on the bow of the boat?” She held up her hand. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. “Also, please enlighten me how so many gators ended up swarming that boat.” She cocked her head. “Because that doesn’t happen unless you chum the water.”

“Babe. You’re basing the alligator swarm on a nightmare.”

“Don’t you dare ‘babe’ me,” she mumbled. “Maybe my dream isn’t completely accurate. But someone hit me over the head. I didn’t fall. Why don’t you believe me? You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” Ken said. “You have to understand how crazy this sounds and how people are going to?—”

A tap at the door thankfully shut him up because she couldn’t listen to another word. “Come in.” She adjusted her covers.

“Sorry to bother you,” Chief of Police Trip Williams said, “but I need to interview you, and sorry, young man. I need to do it alone.”

“No problem.” Ken squeezed her hand. “I’ll go get you a milkshake.”

Ken and his stupid milkshakes. They didn’t solve anything, and they weren’t going to make their problems go away.

Trip pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable. She’d known Trip her entire life. He was a decent man who treated the people of Calusa Cove with kindness, her father included.

But sometimes Trip could be a hard-ass.

He had that hard-ass look about him right now.

Crossing his legs, he rested his hands in his lap. He gave her a weak smile.

Yeah, this wasn’t going to be fun.

“There are a few things we need to clear up,” Trip said. He pulled out his notebook and tapped his finger on one of the pages. “I’m concerned about a couple of things.”

“I’ve told you everything I remember.” She rubbed the side of her head, careful not to hit the stitches. “Someone murdered my dad.”

“You see, that’s the problem,” Trip said. “It appears the boat hit something. It appears everything’s an accident.”

“This was no accident, Trip. Someone?—”

Trip held up his hand. “Here’s the thing. I believe you when you say it wasn’t an accident. However, getting anyone else to believe your story will be a struggle, and let me tell you why without you going off on me. Can you do that?”

“That depends.” She cocked her head and folded her arms. She might be a teenager, but she’d never had a problem speaking her mind with adults—not even the law. “Are you going to say something that’s going to piss me off?”

Trip leaned forward. “I’ve known you since the day you were born. When you came out with fiery red hair, I told your parents that you were going to be a pistol, and you’re more like a stick of dynamite.” Trip laughed. “I don’t believe anything I’m about to say, but I’m the law, little girl, and I must look at every angle. So, I’m going to tell you how this will go. You’ll let me haul you down to the station when they release you. You’re going to get a lawyer if it goes too far, and I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t.”

“You’re being a jerk,” she mumbled.

“I’m being the chief of police.” He lowered his chin. “And right now, the town gossip is that you killed your dad, tossed his body into the Everglades, and crashed the boat on purpose so that you’d fall and hurt yourself. Then, for dramatic effect, you made sure the fuel line was damaged so the boat wouldn’t be drivable. Some are even saying they heard strange noises last night. Owl noises. And that you’ve been practicing witchcraft.” He arched a brow. “While that’s all bull, there is some circumstantial evidence that points to a possible homicide, but I’ve got no body. And the motive? Well, it’s weak. However, you opened yourself up when you threatened your dad in front of the entire town.”

“I did no such thing.”

Trip waggled his finger. “I don’t have much to make anything stick. Nor will the State, but they will ask questions of you and everyone in this town. You know they will. Do you know what they will find?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “A town full of people who remember you poking your father in the chest and telling him you wished he was dead instead of your mom.” Trip dared to shrug. “Outside of talking with me, I’d stop the conspiracy theory crap. It doesn’t help you. It only makes you look like you’re a chip off the old man’s shoulder and will add fuel to a fire you don’t want to be ignited. You let me control the narrative. You let me work the accident angle. I’ll handle everything else.”

“You want me to sit back and say nothing? You want me to let this town believe I killed my dad?”

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