Page 74 of Murder in Calusa Cove
Dewey tilted his head, like the question genuinely intrigued him. “Want? That’s a funny word, Agent Frasier. I never wanted this. Not at first.” He took a slow step forward. Hayes didn’t flinch, but his finger hovered just above the trigger.
“You can’t walk away from this,” Hayes said. “You know that, right?”
Dewey smiled faintly. “I walked into this the day Izzy cheated on me. The day I put her in the water and watched the current take her away.”
Chloe’s breath hitched. “Who was she?” she asked softly. “Was she your wife? Your girlfriend?”
Dewey’s eyes glazed over for a moment, distant. “She was everything. And then she wasn’t.” His grip tightened on the lantern. “But hey, why dwell on the past?” His gaze sharpened, snapping back to the moment. “Clock’s ticking—and Fedora’s time is about up.”
Hayes flicked a glance at Chloe. She was steady, but he could feel the tension vibrating off her. Her phone was in her back pocket. She’d sent the photos and journal to Buddy. He knew that. And Hayes had texted Dawson the moment they’d stepped inside the shack.
Help was coming.
But maybe not in time.
“We don’t need to make this worse for you,” Hayes said carefully. “Take us to her. If you want to talk, if there’s something you want us to hear, we’ll listen.”
Dewey’s jaw twitched. “I already know what you think I am.”
“You don’t know what I think,” Hayes said. “But I know Fedora’s innocent in all this. She didn’t cheat on her fiancé. And if you hurt her?—”
“I haven’t touched her,” Dewey snapped. The lantern wobbled slightly in his grip. “You think I’m the monster?” His voice cracked. “You ran out on that child when she needed a father. She had no one, and she needed you, and you bailed. You didn’t care enough. I was never given that chance. I had no idea. My girls were lied to their entire lives. I didn’t want to find out like that. At a funeral. Looking down at a girl I killed and realizing she was my own.”
Hayes’s stomach turned. So, it was true.
And then Dewey smiled, staring at Hayes, as if he knew something big.
Hayes shivered.
“I couldn’t believe it when I learned you and I both knew Betsy.” Dewey waved his finger between himself and Hayes.
“What?” Hayes lowered his weapon for a split second. Bile smacked his throat. “What are you talking about?”
“I knew her. We met about the time Fedora would’ve been conceived.” He smiled smugly. “I don’t know if I’m the father. I mean, Betsy said she wasn’t married, and maybe she wasn’t. I didn’t spend a lot of time doing the math when I researched your history, but my treat after every kill was finding a nice woman. A vulnerable woman. One that needed a man’s kind touch. Betsy fit that need. Just one night. That’s all I ever wanted from a woman. It’s all I ever took after a kill.”
“You’re a sick son of a bitch,” Hayes said under his breath. “You really like fucking with people, don’t you?”
“Actually, I don’t.” Dewey waved his weapon. “I would’ve preferred to stay under the radar like I have for the last thirty-plus years. I didn’t want to be known. I’m not the kind of killer who wants a name. Wants recognition. Wants to be infamous. But things have changed, and if you want to save Fedora, we should get a move on.” Dewey blinked. And for a moment, Hayes swore he saw something human flicker behind the madness. “I want you both to drop your weapons and give me your cells,” Dewey said softly. “If you want to save her, you’ll come with me. No backup. No games. You’re lives, for hers. It’s that simple.”
Hayes met Chloe’s gaze. A silent conversation passed between them. She gave the slightest nod.
He bent slowly and set his weapon on the edge of the table along with his cell.
Chloe did the same, her movements fluid but reluctant.
Dewey stepped back, waving them forward with the pistol as he gathered their belongings. “She’s not far. Just…isolated.”
As they stepped out into the warm, wet air, Hayes stole one last glance at the shack behind them.
The jars. The journal. The letter.
There was no doubt now—Dewey Hale was the Ring Finger Killer.
And he had Fedora.
Hayes’s pulse hammered in his ears. Whatever happened next, he was ready to go blind if he had to. He’d walk into hell for that girl—and for Chloe.
He only hoped it wasn’t too late.
