Page 25 of Secrets in Calusa Cove

He pushed off from the dock and headed down the channel.

Dawson’s favorite part about Calusa Cove was being on the water, and he had a couple of options, making it even sweeter.

Boats were the only thing he was willing to spend money on, and currently, outside of the airboats for Everglades Overwatch, he owned two personal vessels. He had a nice Boston Whaler Outrage. It had cost him a pretty penny, but she was worth it. She gave him two options to enjoy the fresh salty air.

There was the ocean. He loved deep-sea fishing, scuba diving, and just the vastness of the open waters. His Whaler could handle open seas—if the chop wasn’t over four to six feet. Maybe seven if the distance between the swells were six to eight seconds. Or more. Many times, he couldn’t take his boat out in the ocean because of the weather. But no matter.

There was always option number two. Dawson liked options. Chokoloskee Bay was a beautiful bay nestled behind a bunch of barrier islands. The bay was suitable for fishing and floating, and on a clear day, there were some good scuba and snorkeling spots.

And, of course, he loved cruising through the channels of the Everglades on his airboat. He didn’t have many days off between being the chief of police, helping to run Everglades Overwatch, and his latest purchase six months ago of Harvey’s Cabins, but every free moment he got, he was on the water.

It was ironic since, as a child, he’d been utterly terrified of swimming, even in a pool. His nana had been shocked by his decision to join the Navy. Learning how to swim had been one of his biggest challenges in life.

His parents had died when a boat charter they had been on capsized during a squall that had come out of nowhere. His mom and nana had been scrimping and saving for that charter for years. They’d given it to his dad as an anniversary present. His parents had never gone on a honeymoon, and it was supposed to be their chance to have a romantic getaway. Dawson had nightmares about what his parents must have endured.

But now, being on the water made him feel as though he were closer to his mom and dad. It was as if he were honoring them and making them proud of what he’d accomplished with his life.

He pulled his sunglasses off his face and tucked them in his shirt pocket. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his uniform, mainly because the day had gotten away, and he wanted to spend what little sunlight was left on anything other than dry land.

A few boats zoomed past, heading back toward the marina. He’d gotten reports of at least eight snakes being captured during the hunt. What an excellent start to the challenge.

An airboat slowed as it approached, pulling up beside his.

Silas.

Silas cut his engine.

Dawson checked the time, surprised he’d already been out on the water for over an hour. Time always flew in the Everglades.

“Got me one.” Silas held up a bag. “Sucker’s nine feet long. Saw one at least fifteen feet, but damn thing slithered into the water, and I couldn’t catch him.”

“That’s too bad, but I’m sure you’ll get many more. You’re one of the best wranglers in these parts.” Dawson didn’t stroke that man’s ego often, but today was about restoring the Everglades. Nothing more, nothing less. Dawson could handle giving the old man a pat on the back.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and it would soon be dark. Even with a clear night, the moon and stars wouldn’t light up the Everglades. However, many hunters were known to come out here, and snakes tended to be active then, making it a little more exciting—and much more dangerous.

They couldn’t stop people from staying out, but they tried.

“Are you heading in for the night?” Dawson dared to ask.

Silas laughed. “Yeah, right. I’m out here all the time at night. My partner’s at the bend, waiting for me to bring him a sandwich and a beer,” he said with a smile.

“We’ve asked everyone to come in after dark.”

“You know that’s not actually a rule. It’s simply a guideline.” Silas set the bag down. “It’s not like I don’t do this year-round.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Everyone out there, except maybe two, are professionals. We know what we’re doing. Just because this is only the second year this area has been open to the challenge doesn’t mean shit. You’re being overly cautious for no reason. Those snakes are destroying the Everglades.”

“I get it, Silas. I do.”

“No, you don’t. You’re from New York. You’re a damn outsider in this town. You don’t know shit.” Silas sneered. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time worrying about me or anyone else from this town.” He lowered his chin. “What you should be concerned with is why Audra McCain decided to return to Calusa Cove after all these years.”

One thing Dawson had learned over the years was that when an opportunity presented itself, he’d be a fool not to take it. This was one hell of an opportunity.

“Why should my hackles be up over Audra?” Dawson asked.

“Come on, don’t play dumb with me. It’s not a good look, not even on you.”

“Rumors and folklore about Everglade Owl Witches don’t give me a reason to believe anything,” Dawson said.

“Well, that Stigini rumor bullshit is stupid. Audra isn’t a swamp monster, but I went through the motions of giving her the benefit of the doubt, and how did she repay me? She snuck out in the middle of the night like a criminal.”

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