Page 26 of Murder in Calusa Cove
Chloe frowned. “But you said Baily’s dad made bad investments based on Ken’s advice. If it worked for you guys, why not for him?”
“Exactly,” Fletcher said, pointing. “It doesn’t add up. Even when Baily and I weren’t on good terms, I kept in touch with her dad. He confided in me about a few of the investments he regretted—and he said those came from Ken. I didn’t say much at the time. I was stuck in the middle—still in love with my ex, trying to respect her father, and loyal to one of my best friends. So I just listened.” He leaned forward. “Would you be willing to look into this Tessa woman and her family’s company?”
“I can ask around,” Chloe said. “But I did dig into her connection with Decker. Turns out, she gave him money—and it looks like they were sleeping together. I didn’t uncover anything illegal or even suspicious.”
Fletcher cursed under his breath. “That actually makes me more uneasy. It paints Decker like a predator—always working an angle. He keeps showing up here like he’s just another out-of-towner who fell in love with the charm of Calusa Cove. He flirts with Baily, keeps it casual, never pushes too hard—but he never really backs off either. It’s like he’s circling, waiting. And he was at the town meeting about auctioning off the Crab Shack.”
Chloe sighed. “That definitely feels...calculated. What about Keaton’s land? He’s planning to rebuild and sell, right? Wouldn’t a developer want to buy it before that happens?”
“No one’s made him an offer,” Fletcher said.
“I might,” Hayes added.
Fletcher’s head whipped around. “Seriously? You’re thinking about buying something other than a mobile home or a houseboat? We figured that’s as far as you’d go.”
Hayes laughed. “Any of you planning to leave Calusa Cove?”
“Never,” Fletcher said without hesitation.
“Then I’m not leaving either.”
Chloe’s heart fluttered. She remembered clearly—Hayes had made it known early on that he didn’t do permanence. He’d practically emphasized the word rental when she’d first seen his place, as if to make sure she understood he didn’t put down roots. The idea of him buying property—owning something—meant something.
“Maybe you should bid on the Crab Shack, too,” Fletcher teased, grinning. “Hell, maybe we all should.”
“And do what, exactly?” Hayes arched a brow, though a crooked smile formed. His eyes danced with mischief.
“Open a ‘catch of the day’ restaurant,” Fletcher said with a laugh. “Trinity and Keaton brought back so many fish on their last trip that they were giving them away in the parking lot. Imagine if we had a place where people could bring in their haul, and we cook it fresh for them. Or buy from the local fisherman for what we feed to the customers.”
“As if we don’t all have enough on our plates already.” Hayes shook his head, still smiling.
“We could make it work. I know two skilled cooks who are looking for jobs, and hiring wait staff is relatively easy. Trinity hates her job, and with a baby on the way, maybe she’d manage the place. It’s doable. We should war-game it.”
“And create a dozen new problems,” Chloe cut in. “Like all of you riding in to ‘save’ Baily when she clearly wants to handle things herself.”
“We’re not trying to rescue her,” Fletcher said quickly. “She won’t even let me change a lightbulb without accusing me of being a controlling nutjob.”
“It’s not just about Baily,” Hayes added. “It’s about keeping Calusa Cove the way it is—small, grounded. Besides, we’d talk to her first. This affects her as much as any of us.” Hayes pointed toward the shoreline. “There’s the shack Dewey was talking about.”
Chloe turned. She raised her hand, covering her eyes, and squinted. A makeshift roof appeared through the lush trees. “How could anyone live back here?”
“Dawson thought maybe he moved on to another town a couple of months ago,” Fletcher said. “Not many spots to pull in with all this mangrove, and I’d rather not trek through the swamp.”
“We can circle around,” Hayes said, easing off the throttle. “There’s solid ground near that bend—we can tie off there.”
“Which means more walking.” Chloe shivered. “I love the Everglades—when I’m safely in a boat. On foot? No thanks. One python lunge, and I’m a protein shake.”
Hayes chuckled. “I’ve stopped worrying about the snakes. It’s the gators you’ve got to watch. They sneak up quietly and drag you under before you even scream.”
“I grew up here,” Fletcher said, laughing. “The only thing that gives me the creeps is a six-foot rattlesnake—unless Audra’s around. The stuff she pulled as a teen would put hair on your chest.”
A lump rose in Chloe’s throat. Heather had only been twenty when she’d died. Barely old enough to understand how fragile life really was. Someone had stolen her future for the sake of a thrill, and Chloe had spent thirteen years trying to make peace with it.
She used to bury her grief beneath work, labeling Heather as just another victim. A case number. Not her twin. Not her family. That was easier. Her coworkers had called her the Ice Princess. Maybe she was cold. Maybe she’d built a wall. But she felt everything. Every murder chipped away at her, one fragment at a time. At home, in the silence, she unraveled. Hot tears in the shower, eyes red and raw by morning. But she never let it show at work.
That had changed with this last victim. Something about her had shattered the distance Chloe had carefully maintained.
Hayes steered the boat to the bend and killed the engine.
