Page 7 of Murder in Calusa Cove
“No offense.” Fletcher raised his hands. “We were just about to walk down to Mitchell’s and help Baily. She’s setting up coffee and food for everyone here.”
“That’s nice of her. I’m sure Buddy and the team will appreciate that.” She took her hands out of her pocket and restuffed them again. Her nerves buzzed about her body like bees hovering over a blooming plant. She wasn’t used to that sensation.
“You brought Agent Ballard?” Dawson asked.
“One of the things I need to discuss with you.” She widened her stance, as if that would make her more comfortable. She always resorted to being an FBI agent before being a person—a woman. Hayes had picked up on that and even commented on it once. She’d ignored it—laughing it off—saying old habits died hard. She’d tried tossing it back at him, stating that his military training had come back in spades the few times they had worked together.
But that had fallen flat, especially because Hayes was the kind of man who knew how to be something other than an ex-Navy SEAL or a firefighter. Those two things didn’t define who or what he was.
Hayes knew how to kick back and relax, something she had no clue about.
“What’s up?” Dawson mimicked her stance and folded his arms.
Hayes fiddled with a water bottle. That man drank more water—or milkshakes—than anyone she knew.
“You need to know that Buddy’s lead on this case, not me.” She glanced between Dawson and Hayes.
Both men stared at her with wide, perplexed gazes.
“I’m not following,” Dawson said. “This has always been your case.”
“No,” she said softly, this time holding Hayes’s stare. “It’s never been mine.”
“I’m incredibly confused.” Dawson unfolded his arms and dropped them to his sides. “You’ve been coming to me for months about the Ring Finger case—a serial killer case, and?—”
“Dawson, I’ve asked you questions about it, but I’ve mostly come to you with missing person cases.” She shifted, needing to address him directly. She’d deal with the nasty glare coming from Hayes in a bit. “When we first met, I showed you pictures of people who were missing. Those were my cases. I’ve come to you?—”
“Wait a second.” Dawson waved a hand. “Are you trying to tell me that I’ve been contacting the wrong person in your department all along when I’m looking for intel on a missing person? That I’ve been directing those questions to Buddy when they should’ve gone to you, and you’ve let me? That no one in your office has corrected me? Or that when I had a tip on something that could’ve have been about a murder, I went to you, instead of Buddy? Do you have any idea how screwed up that is?”
She understood it alright but didn’t have time to comment on it. “You call and ask for me, you get me. You call and ask for Buddy, you get him. But you have both of us on speed dial, so it’s not like you’re calling our office.” She arched a brow. “I’m sorry I led you to believe?—”
“You lied,” Hayes said in a gruff tone. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“All that matters is that you deal with Buddy and the rest of the team. I’m here as a civilian and potentially a consultant. Buddy will keep me in the loop,” she said, not directly answering Hayes’s question, but this wasn’t the time or place.
“Hey, Hayes,” his captain, Bear, called. “We need you over here for a second.”
“I gotta go.” Hayes turned and stormed off without saying another word.
She’d have to deal with Hayes later, though she suspected she wouldn’t be spending any nights in his home anytime soon. It was for the best. With a body that fit the profile, she and Buddy just might finally have a real break in the case. “I’m sorry, Dawson. I really am.”
“What’s done can’t be undone,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, seemingly following Hayes. “I’ll have a chat with Buddy about how much I can pull you into my part of this investigation because, regardless of that lie, you’ve proven yourself to me, and I suspect you have a damn good reason for not being up front.”
“I do.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“I will,” she admitted. “But not here. Not with that news crew standing over there and all these people. Everyone in this town knows I’m FBI. They know Buddy is, too. While I can’t officially work the case, we don’t want to raise weird suspicions or questions.”
“All right. I can live with that.” Dawson let out a puff of air. “Does your office know you’re here?”
“I took some vacation time, but I’m sure they have a good idea of where I am and what I’m doing. It’s also a safe assumption that the brass has given Buddy a short leash regarding me.”
“It’s probably best if you make yourself scarce tonight. Let me talk with Buddy, and I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks for being so understanding.”
“Don’t take my ability to compartmentalize the situation as understanding. I have a job to do, and I value the fact that you came right out and said it instead of trying to milk the situation.”
