Chapter 3
T he smell of singed wood mixed with a sense of danger and dread lingered in the air.
It clung to Hayes’s pores like thick humidity on the hottest summer day.
Half the town had come out. People milled about just past the police barricade.
It wasn’t uncommon in a small town like Calusa Cove, where the population hovered under five hundred.
Everyone knew everyone, and that meant everyone knew each other’s business.
Hayes had grown up in a close-knit community. If he or any of his siblings had misbehaved, everyone in the church would have known, and someone was bound to make an example out of them for their bad choices. There was no such thing as privacy in his childhood home or his parents’ church.
When he’d first moved to Calusa Cove, he’d figured things wouldn’t be much different.
However, this town seemed to be built on secrets.
His buddy Ken had had them. Paul Massey had kept a remarkable secret for decades.
He turned, staring out toward the depths of the Everglades.
They seemed to hold a million skeletons.
“Hayes. Hayes Bennett,” an all too familiar female voice cut through the noise.
It grated on his last nerve. He didn’t want to turn around and deal with the woman attached to it.
She was nothing but trouble. Glancing toward the night sky, lit up by the stars and half-moon, he sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly.
“Are you seriously going to stand there with your back to me, ignoring me?” Stacey asked.
“I’m thinking about it.” He turned, looping his fingers in his suspenders. “What do you want, Stacey?” He glared but was thankful she hadn’t approached with her camera crew and microphone. She was good at railroading people.
“An interview, of course.” She smiled. “I heard you were the first firefighter inside and the one who found the body.”
That wasn’t a false statement, but it wasn’t entirely true. However, Dawson and Buddy had made it clear that no one was to speak with the press. Not tonight, anyway. And if there was going to be communication with the media, it would come from Dawson, or Buddy, or the Detective from State, Lester.
“No comment,” he said, smugly, and he enjoyed it, too. Maybe a little too much.
Stacey jerked out her hip, planting her hand on it, and pursed her lips. “Really, Hayes? Come on. Please give me something. It doesn’t have to be in front of the camera. Just something I can use on tonight’s broadcast.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—I can’t. And I wouldn’t bother anyone else. We’re all under strict orders.”
“Oh.” She shifted her weight. “That means something big went down. Any leads? Suspects? Do you know who was murdered?”
“Don’t go tossing that word around.” He inched closer, resisting the urge to curl his fingers around her biceps and march her across the parking lot to her van.
“No one has used it, and we have no idea what happened.” He waved his hand.
“Except there was a fire, and that’s all I’m gonna say.
” He pointed to her crew. “Now, why don’t you pack up and leave?
” They hadn’t removed the body yet, and no one wanted her camera team plastering that on the evening news.
“That’s not gonna happen.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “This is a big story, and it’s my job to report it. The citizens of Calusa Cove—and the neighboring towns—have a right to know if someone was murdered. Should we be frightened? Is a particular group being targeted? Is there?—”
“Just stop talking,” he said. “Once again, you’re being irresponsible. Or do I need to remind you of what happened last year?”
“You’re the one who screwed me over,” she snapped. “You lied to me.”
“That was a two-way street.” Sometimes, he wondered why he even bothered with the conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dawson jogging in his direction.
This should be interesting.
“Hayes, we need you.” Dawson stopped two steps away from where Hayes and Stacey stood. “Stacey,” Dawson continued. “I told you a half hour ago that when we’re ready to give a statement, we’ll let you know.” He nodded toward the news van. “Go back with your people. Stay there and wait.”
Stacey scoffed. “You’re being rude.”
“Because I have work to do, and that doesn’t include answering your questions. Now, excuse us.” Dawson jerked his head and started walking back toward the old Crab Shack.
Hayes fell in step beside him. “Sometimes, I wish I could be an asshole the way you are.”
Dawson chuckled. “That’s funny coming from you when it comes to women.”
“I’m offended. I treat all women well. I always have. Just because I’m not dating to get married or be in a relationship forever, doesn’t make me a dick.”
“That’s true.” Dawson slapped him on the back. “And you’ve been too nice to that one. She’s a pain in the ass, who doesn’t think that how she frames a story might hurt either an investigation, or the people in the story.” He paused for a minute. “Did you talk with Chloe?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“There is no ‘and,’” Hayes said. “At least not right now. But she asked if she could stay at my place.” He lowered his chin. “I know you have a room available. You shouldn’t have lied to her like that?”
“Right, because you neglected to tell your three best friends that the two of you stopped seeing each other.” Dawson squeezed his shoulder. “Why do you always do shit like that? When you were with Betsy, it was like pulling teeth to get you to talk to us about stuff. I don’t get it.”
“I don’t know.” Hayes shrugged. “I’ve always kept things inside. But if you asked, I’ve always been open.”
“Not the same, and dude, it’s got to stop. It’s making us crazy, especially with how we’re learning that Ken kept secrets.”
“I get it. I do. But I’m not keeping things from you or the rest of the team. At least, that’s not how it feels to me.”
“But that’s how it feels for us. Can you understand that?”
“I can. I’ll work on it,” Hayes said.
“Good.” Dawson stepped through the crime tape and approached Buddy, Lester, Bear, and Jenson.
“We’re getting ready to remove the body, but we don’t want Stacey, or any news crew for that matter, flashing lights and pointing their cameras at it.
We’ll have to make a statement by morning light. People are already talking.”
“Hard to hide the medical examiner’s vehicle,” Hayes said softly. “I’m not questioning your judgment, but what difference does it make at this point?”
“I’m making that call.” Buddy waved his hand.
“People are speculating, but they have only a couple of things to talk about. A fire and a body. Outside of that, they don’t know anything.
Rolling a body bag out in front of the entire town, well, that just makes it way too real.
It’ll upset the fine balance law enforcement walks between us, the media, and the public.
Right now, I’ve told the press that we don’t have any information until the ME has done their job.
That’s an answer, and good reporters know it. ”
“Stacey’s not going to let it go at that,” Hayes said.
“It doesn’t matter. They can ask me all the questions they want, and I will make a brief statement while you all are helping to remove the body.” Buddy rubbed the back of his neck. “I want the fire engine moved, blocking off that area over there. I want the fire truck tucked in behind it.”
“We’ll shuffle my two deputies’ vehicles around, as if they were blocked in, which they sort of are. All the while, the ME will move his van around the side of the building, and Hayes, Bear, and Jenson can help secure the body in the back,” Dawson said.
“Stacey will be hyper-focused on the movement of those vehicles. It could backfire,” Hayes added. “Then again, if the FBI gives the statement, she might start asking tough questions. She’s a ruthless reporter.”
“I’ll handle her.” Buddy nodded. “Let’s clear the body. I want to do another sweep of the Crab Shack for evidence, and then all I’ll need from the fire department is your investigator.”
“You got it,” Bear said.
Hayes made his way to the rubble, glancing once over his shoulder, scanning the area one last time. It was going to be a long night.
Chloe pulled open the door into the marina. The air-conditioning smacked her skin, making her shiver.
“Hey, Chloe,” Keaton said, smiling. He sat in the corner by the coffee maker. “Why aren’t you over at the crime scene? Do you need something? Or does Dawson need us?” He pointed between him and Fletcher, who leaned against the counter.
“No.” She shook her head. “I came over to see if one of you could give me a ride to Hayes’s place.”
Keaton glanced at his watch. “When?”
“Whenever,” she said.
Fletcher furrowed his brow. “Don’t you need to be working the scene?”
“Buddy’s taking lead.” She held up her hand. “I don’t want to get into it all now. I’m sure Dawson or Hayes will fill you in on the details soon enough.”
“If time isn’t a factor, I’m going to be heading home in about twenty minutes,” Keaton said.
“That would be great. I really appreciate it.” She shuffled her feet across the uneven wood floor and snagged a cup of coffee. “How are the wedding plans coming?”
Fletcher burst out laughing. “That depends on who you’re asking, because as much as we all love Trinity, she’s making us nuts. Trying to blend these two very different styles together has been interesting.”
“I can only imagine.” Chloe had spent a little time with both brides early on during the planning of the double wedding.
Trinity and Audra, while best friends, couldn’t be more different.
Audra wanted to be barefoot, wearing a simple dress, and not white.
Maybe a sundress, or even a jean skirt and top.
She wanted simple. She didn’t care what Dawson wore, as long as he showed up and said I do.