Chapter 3 #2
Trinity wanted to look and feel like a princess.
She wanted tuxes and bright flowers. If she’d had more time to plan, she probably would’ve had a big country club wedding.
Neither Keaton nor Dawson cared. Big wedding, small wedding, or even eloping.
They didn’t care. They wanted the marriage, not the party.
“I’m sure it’ll be a great day, though.” She raised the paper cup to her lips and sipped. It always amazed her that marina coffee could taste so damn good. Just then, Baily came in from the back room, which also led to the upstairs apartment, carrying a tray of sandwiches.
“Hi.” Baily smiled as she set the tray on the counter. “I wish I could say I’m surprised to see you, but considering the circumstances, I’m not.” She pulled Chloe in for a hug. “Do you think the first responders are ready for food?”
“I’m sure some of them are.” Chloe nodded. “Especially the firefighters.”
The bell over the door chimed, and Silas strolled in, followed by that guy, Dewey, who had been hanging out in the shadows.
Chloe had met Silas a couple of times. Everyone considered him to be a grumpy old man, but she thought he was more of a colorful character with depth, layers, and a bit of mystery.
He also had a kind heart.
“If it isn’t our resident FBI agent,” Silas grinned.
He had white hair and wore a dirty white T-shirt, grungy jeans, and beat-up old boots.
She’d never seen him in clothes that looked as if they’d ever been clean, except once when Hayes had taken her out to dinner and they’d run into Silas and his wife, who was a knockout.
She wasn’t fancy or anything, but she wasn’t what Chloe had expected, and Silas had taken a brush to his hair, a razor to his scruffy face, and he’d had on a crisp blue button-down shirt and jeans that didn’t have holes in them.
“How are things over at the crime scene?” Silas asked.
“Yeah.” Dewey nodded. “I saw Hayes come out of the Crab Shack, and he looked as if he’d seen a ghost.”
“I’m sorry.” Chloe set her mug on the coffee table. “I don’t think we’ve ever formally met. I’m Chloe Frasier.” She opted to leave off the Special Agent part. That would be misleading, since technically she was on vacation.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Dewey nodded. “I’ve seen you around town a few times. Dawson and Remy speak very highly of you.”
“Dawson’s a great police chief, and I’ve worked with Remy a few times.
” She held Dewey’s gaze. There was something about his eyes that held her captive.
They were an interesting color, like a shot of whiskey.
Rich and full of flavor. It was as if they told a story, only she didn’t know what that story was.
Silas pointed to the sandwiches before turning toward Baily. “We came over to collect the food and water for the first responders. The firefighters are getting ready to head back to the station, and we wanted to make sure they got some grub before they left.”
“It’s ready.” Baily nodded. “Fletcher, can you go snag the cooler? It’s filled with water and soda. Let me run back upstairs. I’ve got a box of chips and cookies.”
“They’ll love that.” Dewey scratched the side of his face. “It wasn’t a bad fire, but I can tell it’s been a night. Add in the State Police and Feds showing up, something big must’ve gone down. Stacey’s salivating.”
“She’s always looking for that big story that’s going to elevate her and her so-called fans to the next level.” Fletcher rolled his eyes. “That woman’s a piece of work.”
“You can say that again.” Silas chuckled.
Keaton stared at his cell and groaned. “I hate to cut and run, but my future bride needs me. Something about wanting ice cream.” He laughed.
“Of course, I’ll stop, get it, and then she’ll eat a big bowl, all while pointing her finger at me, scolding me that she’s not going to fit in her wedding dress.
She’s pregnant. Her belly’s going to grow, and a cup of ice cream isn’t the problem. I can’t win.”
“At least you’re making an honest woman out of her.” Dewey leaned over and lifted the tray. “Perhaps now she’ll give up that job and stop trying to do everything on her own.”
“On that note, I’m out of here.” Keaton let out a long breath and turned to Chloe. “Ready?”
“I’m good to go.” She lifted her mug, downed the last few drops, and tossed it in the trash.
“You’re not heading back to the Crab Shack?” Dewey asked. “Aren’t you working the case?”
“I’ve got some other things to deal with.” She should’ve corrected him, but she didn’t feel like it. Not tonight. “I’ll see everyone later.”
Keaton opened the door for her, and she followed him toward his truck. “Dewey’s a strange man,” she said.
“A little.” Keaton raised his keys and pressed the button. His lights blinked. “He’s old-fashioned, rough around the edges, and doesn’t talk often. But when he does, he usually manages to stick his foot in his mouth. But he’s harmless. Kind of like Silas.”
She laughed. It had taken a while for her to warm up to Silas, but once she’d gotten to know him, she’d really enjoyed his company.
She climbed up into the passenger side of the vehicle and stared down the road.
People still milled about. The fire trucks, police cars, and news vans were still in the parking lot.
It felt like someone had cut off her right arm because she wasn’t in the thick of things.
Not knowing the details of what had been found—or not found—needled her brain.
She figured she’d spend the night tossing and turning while she stared at her cell, waiting for updates.
Finally, they had a case that might lead her to her sister’s killer, and her hands were tied.