Page 55 of Murder in Calusa Cove
While the team had each other, Dawson had always kept them steady.
Then there was Keaton—the golden boy. The natural. The one who could walk into any room, flash a grin, and charm anyone, even when he wasn’t trying. He was the smartest guy in the unit, gifted in ways most people couldn’t fake—but he’d never loved the spotlight. Hayes knew that. Keaton often joked he envied Hayes’s ability to disappear into the background. But Hayes also knew Keaton didn’t belong in the shadows. His energy was too big. His laugh too loud. His heart too generous.
That was what made him Keaton—and why today had felt like the end of something and the start of something better.
Fletcher sat on the railing, still in his dress shirt but barefoot now, his expression clouded as he watched the fire pit burn low. Dawson was nursing a beer two seats over, legs stretched and crossed at the ankle, unusually quiet. Keaton was the only one smiling—his lazy post-wedding grin made him look about ten years younger.
Foster leaned against the porch post, spinning a bottle cap between his fingers. “I gotta admit…I didn’t expect it to hit this hard.”
“What?” Keaton asked.
Foster shrugged. “Seeing you two married. All of us here. Just…the weight of what you survived—what I survived.”
Keaton nodded slowly. “It’s a hell of a thing.”
Hayes took a slow sip of his beer, gaze drifting toward Fletcher, who hadn’t said much all day. Even for Fletcher, the silence felt heavy. “You good?”
Fletcher’s jaw twitched before he finally spoke. “This wedding… It’s nothing like Ken’s was.”
Dawson let out a low chuckle, trying to lighten the air. “Well, Audra and Trinity are pretty much polar opposites. I’m still shocked they didn’t kill each other during planning or force us into two separate ceremonies. But somehow, it worked. Audra got her barefoot, non-white-dress vibe. Trinity got the aisle, the vows, and that…headpiece thing.”
Keaton snorted. “Are you mocking my wife’s wedding dress?”
Dawson smirked and tossed a napkin at him. “Not the dress. Just the accessory that looked like it doubled as a crown and a fishing net.”
“She looked incredible,” Keaton said, grinning.
“She did,” Dawson agreed, holding up his hands. “But you gotta admit, that headpiece had its own zip code.”
The laughter eased the tension, but only slightly. Hayes kept an eye on Fletcher, whose smile never quite reached his eyes. His posture was wound too tight. Hayes set his bottle down and leaned in slightly. “Where’s your head at?” They’d made a promise—when the war was over and the shadows were behind them, they’d still watch each other’s six. Trauma didn’t vanish just because they’d traded combat boots for civilian life. That mission had broken all of them in different ways, and Ken’s death had left a scar that still hadn’t healed.
Fletcher scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I can’t stop thinking about Ken.”
“What about him?” Hayes asked, needing to know if it was simply a case of missing an old friend on a special day, or something deeper. Something troubling.
“I get why Foster here was Keaton’s best man. Their blood family,” Fletcher said.
“Tell that to my brother,” Keaton mumbled. “He’s still sulking.” He pointed to his family, who were talking with Trinity and her dad. The double wedding had only been family and close friends, so a total of maybe fifty people, which had still been a lot.
“Yeah, but it makes sense.” Fletcher lifted his drink and sipped. “Dawson could’ve picked any one of us.”
“It gave me hives trying to decide between you and Hayes,” Dawson said. “Plucking names from a hate made it easier, but that was still a little guilt. I love ya both. You’re family.”
“But it didn’t matter if it was me or Hayes,” Fletcher said. “As long as it was one of us. Same goes if I were to get married. It would have to be one of you three assholes. Now, Hayes, well, he’s got four brothers, and like sixty cousins.”
“I don’t have that many.” Hayes chuckled. “But since we’re playing this game, if I were to tie the knot, the only logical choice would be one of you—and I see where you’re going with this. Ken didn’t pick you. He chose Julie’s brother. Someone he barely knew.”
“I never understood that,” Fletcher said. “None of us were in the wedding. Even Baily thought that was strange.”
“We accepted it and didn’t honestly care. I mean, I hate these monkey suits,” Keaton said. “But you were his best friend since you two were in diapers.”
“He told me everything,” Fletcher muttered. “Or I thought he did. But this thing with Baily’s dad and the marina—he fed her old man bad investment advice. Advice he knew was risky.”
“That doesn’t track,” Hayes said, sitting up straighter. He’d been thinking about a way to bring this up to his friends ever since he’d taken a good look at his finances. He knew he had money in the bank. He worked with an investment firm. Ken had given Hayes tips here and there, and Hayes took them. However, once Hayes started to see his portfolio grow, he’d gotten himself his own personal financial advisor, and from there, things had just snowballed.
But like most things in Hayes’s life, he tucked that knowledge in a corner and ignored it.
“We’ve all talked about this a dozen times,” Dawon said. “I was able to buy Harvey’s Cabins because of those investments. I’m not rich, but I’m not poor, and that’s because of Ken.”
