Page 62 of Murder in Calusa Cove
Chloe studied him for a moment—earnest, steady, and emotional in a way she hadn’t seen before. But something still tugged at the edges of her mind. That tiny flicker of recognition…in his eyes. Dewey Hale was respected, quiet, and always around when someone needed help. So why couldn’t she shake the feeling she’d seen his eyes somewhere else?
And why did it matter?
She forced herself to focus. “Let’s divide into pairs. Grid search. We’ll fan out from where Trent killed the snake and gator and work our way out. And someone needs to search the cabin.”
Hayes gave her a nod, and Fletcher grabbed a pair of gloves from his kit. Trent muttered something under his breath but followed.
Dewey stood still for just a moment longer, staring into the trees like they held all the answers.
15
The light was dimming fast—a typical late-afternoon haze settling low over the Everglades, casting the mangroves in copper and gray. Hayes swatted at a mosquito buzzing near his ear as he pushed through a wall of thick palmetto, boots sinking an inch into the soft, wet ground with every step.
Buddy walked ahead, quiet, flashlight in one hand, the other resting on the butt of his sidearm. They were only a couple of hundred yards from where they’d run into Trent, but the thicket had swallowed the sound behind them. Out here, it always felt like the land absorbed voices, like the swamp was listening but never speaking.
Hayes caught up just as Buddy stilled, his arm out, signaling him to stop.
“I got something,” Buddy said, voice low.
Hayes stepped up beside him, and his stomach dropped.
She was there—barely visible in the weeds and muck—her body crumpled sideways, one arm outstretched and partially submerged in the water. Blonde hair, matted with mud and blood. Torn shorts. A single sneaker, dangling by frayed laces. Her face was angled away, but Hayes didn’t need to see it to feel the weight of it. The signature was already there.
Her left hand.
Four fingers.
No ring finger.
“Shit,” Hayes muttered, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Third body in less than two weeks. I don’t need to be an FBI agent to know that means he’s accelerating.”
Buddy crouched beside the girl, careful not to disturb the scene. “No obvious signs of animal predation. She wasn’t dumped here to disappear. He wanted her found.” He lifted his chin. “And you just stumbled into Trent out here.” He sighed. “I don’t believe in coincidences, but that feels like a setup.”
“Are you circling back to Cole, because I don’t buy it,” Hayes said. “And Trent Mallor is a lot of things, but he’s more of a lover, not a fighter.”
“Cole might not have solid alibis for a few of our murders, but he was deployed for half of them. He’s not our guy. However, I’ll question him again,” Buddy said.
“You’ll make him nervous. Hell, Dawson makes him fidgety, even though he was a SEAL. It’s the badge. The lack of trust over the way he’s been treated since he left the service.”
“I get that.” Buddy nodded.
“He’ll open up if I’m there.”
“Fair enough.” Buddy craned his neck. “My boss reamed me out about Chloe. Reminded me of all the rules and protocols we’ve broken and then told me to tell her she’s no longer on vacation. That she’s never been on vacation. He’s making a statement—a very loud one—that he sent her here to be a consultant because of how many missing person cases we have that fit our profile of this killer. That we’ve kept it quiet because, until recently, there wasn’t enough for us even to form a profile, but that Chloe was working with me—as a consultant, because she’s damn good at her job, and she has insight that no one else does because of her twin.”
“That’s an interesting way of handling the situation.”
“He’s covering his ass,” Buddy said. “When this is over, I wouldn’t be surprised if our boss either transfers us to a different field office, demotes us, or strips our special agent rank.”
“You really think he’d do that?” Hayes asked.
“If we don’t catch this guy soon, it’s possible. If we make him look good, he’ll just keep being a pain in the ass to work for.”
“Is he that bad?” Hayes continued to move slowly across the mucky land.
“No. Our boss is great. He’s just pissed we didn’t tell him. He hates being in the dark. Only, he wasn’t. He knew. But he feels blindsided by what Stacey did. He doesn’t like not being able to control the narrative.”
“Dawson’s the same way,” Hayes said.
