Chapter 13
H ayes leaned back in the Adirondack chair, tie loosened, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a cold beer sweating in his hand.
The double wedding was behind them. Keaton and Dawson were officially off the market, and the energy had shifted—vows and emotion giving way to bourbon, low conversation, and the kind of porch talk only brothers shared.
He smiled quietly, heart full in a way that surprised him.
Dawson had earned this happiness. Despite a childhood filled with quiet grief—losing his parents young, raised by a grandmother who had passed not long after he’d joined the Navy—he’d never let the pain define him.
Dawson had grown up fast and hard, and from the moment Hayes had met him, he’d stepped into the big-brother role Hayes had never had.
Hayes and Max had been third and fourth in a pack of twelve. The two oldest had been girls.
While the team had each other, Dawson had always kept them steady.
Then there was Keaton—the golden boy. The natural.
The one who could walk into any room, flash a grin, and charm anyone, even when he wasn’t trying.
He was the smartest guy in the unit, gifted in ways most people couldn’t fake—but he’d never loved the spotlight.
Hayes knew that. Keaton often joked he envied Hayes’s ability to disappear into the background.
But Hayes also knew Keaton didn’t belong in the shadows.
His energy was too big. His laugh too loud. His heart too generous.
That was what made him Keaton—and why today had felt like the end of something and the start of something better.
Fletcher sat on the railing, still in his dress shirt but barefoot now, his expression clouded as he watched the fire pit burn low.
Dawson was nursing a beer two seats over, legs stretched and crossed at the ankle, unusually quiet.
Keaton was the only one smiling—his lazy post-wedding grin made him look about ten years younger.
Foster leaned against the porch post, spinning a bottle cap between his fingers. “I gotta admit…I didn’t expect it to hit this hard.”
“What?” Keaton asked.
Foster shrugged. “Seeing you two married. All of us here. Just…the weight of what you survived—what I survived.”
Keaton nodded slowly. “It’s a hell of a thing.”
Hayes took a slow sip of his beer, gaze drifting toward Fletcher, who hadn’t said much all day. Even for Fletcher, the silence felt heavy. “You good?”
Fletcher’s jaw twitched before he finally spoke. “This wedding… It’s nothing like Ken’s was.”
Dawson let out a low chuckle, trying to lighten the air.
“Well, Audra and Trinity are pretty much polar opposites. I’m still shocked they didn’t kill each other during planning or force us into two separate ceremonies.
But somehow, it worked. Audra got her barefoot, non-white-dress vibe.
Trinity got the aisle, the vows, and that… headpiece thing.”
Keaton snorted. “Are you mocking my wife’s wedding dress?”
Dawson smirked and tossed a napkin at him. “Not the dress. Just the accessory that looked like it doubled as a crown and a fishing net.”
“She looked incredible,” Keaton said, grinning.
“She did,” Dawson agreed, holding up his hands. “But you gotta admit, that headpiece had its own zip code.”
The laughter eased the tension, but only slightly.
Hayes kept an eye on Fletcher, whose smile never quite reached his eyes.
His posture was wound too tight. Hayes set his bottle down and leaned in slightly.
“Where’s your head at?” They’d made a promise—when the war was over and the shadows were behind them, they’d still watch each other’s six.
Trauma didn’t vanish just because they’d traded combat boots for civilian life.
That mission had broken all of them in different ways, and Ken’s death had left a scar that still hadn’t healed.
Fletcher scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I can’t stop thinking about Ken.”
“What about him?” Hayes asked, needing to know if it was simply a case of missing an old friend on a special day, or something deeper. Something troubling.
“I get why Foster here was Keaton’s best man. Their blood family,” Fletcher said.
“Tell that to my brother,” Keaton mumbled. “He’s still sulking.” He pointed to his family, who were talking with Trinity and her dad. The double wedding had only been family and close friends, so a total of maybe fifty people, which had still been a lot.
“Yeah, but it makes sense.” Fletcher lifted his drink and sipped. “Dawson could’ve picked any one of us.”
“It gave me hives trying to decide between you and Hayes,” Dawson said. “Plucking names from a hate made it easier, but that was still a little guilt. I love ya both. You’re family.”
“But it didn’t matter if it was me or Hayes,” Fletcher said. “As long as it was one of us. Same goes if I were to get married. It would have to be one of you three assholes. Now, Hayes, well, he’s got four brothers, and like sixty cousins.”
“I don’t have that many.” Hayes chuckled. “But since we’re playing this game, if I were to tie the knot, the only logical choice would be one of you—and I see where you’re going with this. Ken didn’t pick you. He chose Julie’s brother. Someone he barely knew.”
“I never understood that,” Fletcher said. “None of us were in the wedding. Even Baily thought that was strange.”
“We accepted it and didn’t honestly care. I mean, I hate these monkey suits,” Keaton said. “But you were his best friend since you two were in diapers.”
“He told me everything,” Fletcher muttered. “Or I thought he did. But this thing with Baily’s dad and the marina—he fed her old man bad investment advice. Advice he knew was risky.”
“That doesn’t track,” Hayes said, sitting up straighter.
He’d been thinking about a way to bring this up to his friends ever since he’d taken a good look at his finances.
He knew he had money in the bank. He worked with an investment firm.
Ken had given Hayes tips here and there, and Hayes took them.
However, once Hayes started to see his portfolio grow, he’d gotten himself his own personal financial advisor, and from there, things had just snowballed.
But like most things in Hayes’s life, he tucked that knowledge in a corner and ignored it.
“We’ve all talked about this a dozen times,” Dawon said. “I was able to buy Harvey’s Cabins because of those investments. I’m not rich, but I’m not poor, and that’s because of Ken.”
“It’s the same for me.” Keaton nodded. “My family has a little bit of money to begin with, so I might have had a head start, and thanks to Trinity, we can definitely swing helping to put a bid on the Crab Shack.”
“I’m a little worried about that.” Fletcher tipped his beer back and downed the rest of it. “I’ve got some money, but some of it’s tied up in my parents’ old place, and I want to keep some set aside for Baily, if she’ll ever let me help her.”
Hayes rubbed his hands up and down his thighs.
He’d never been good at talking about himself, and this felt like bragging, but considering the situation with the bad stock tips that Ken had given his old man, it felt important.
“Ken helped make me a small fortune,” Hayes said.
“I’m not just comfortable—I could retire today if I wanted. ”
Foster raised an eyebrow. “You’re sitting on that much?”
“Yeah,” Hayes said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“We sat down one night, and he walked me through ETFs, dividend stocks, whole portfolios. It was safe, smart, long-term stuff. Nothing flashy. Nothing high-risk. I found an investment firm, and they all said the same things. I started playing with it a little, asking Ken questions, along with this financial advisor I found, and I’ve got enough that we don’t need to ask Trinity for help to bid on the old Crab Shack if we don’t want to. ” He waved his beer at Keaton.
“I’m glad that Ken helped us all with our futures, but why would he give Baily’s dad bad advice?” Fletcher asked, voice low and angry. “Why screw him over, which essentially screws his little sister?”
No one had an answer.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Hayes said. “Unless he was covering for someone else. Or someone else was whispering in Baily’s dad’s ear, and Ken got blamed.”
Fletcher glanced up. “Or Ken was lying to all of us and trying to push Baily and her dad out—but why?”
Hayes didn’t want to believe that. None of them did.
Dawson took another drink and exhaled hard. “We may never know the whole truth. But we do know one thing—Cole’s not our guy. I’m just waiting on one last thing from his military record, and then I can let him go.”
The shift to the case brought them all back.
“However, I want to talk with him one more time. I need him to walk me through all six sites where he found bones. I spoke with the idiot who took the bones from the first site. He thought Cole was a crackpot, so after he left, he dropped the bones back in the Everglades. I couldn’t believe it.
When I asked him if he knew the difference between human and animal remains, he dared to tell me he knew without a doubt they were animal and hung up on me.
I took it to his superior. No idea what will happen next, but that just pissed me off,” Dawson said.
“I want those maps, and I want to go to the other bone sites,” Hayes said. “And I want to take Chloe.”
“That’s up to Buddy, not me,” Dawson replied. “He’s a little pissed off that I let her question Cole, and that both of you spent the night at the station.”
Hayes nodded. “It was the right thing to do, and I’m sure Buddy knows that.”
Dawson clinked his bottle against Hayes’s. “He’s just covering bases, like I would if I were in his shoes.”
Just then, the screen door creaked open.
Chloe stepped out first, barefoot in her strapless dress, her hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders.
She was followed by Baily and Trinity, minus the massive tiara—laughing about something—and then Audra with her arm looped around Mac’s, who looked like she’d known these women her entire life.
“There you are,” Chloe said, her gaze landing on Hayes.
He smiled, patting his legs.
She stumbled across the patio and plopped into his lap, giggling. She’d obviously been slightly overserved. He was glad to see her relax a little. She needed one night to forget about it all.
They all did.
“Whatever heavy thing’s going on out here,” Trinity added, “y’all better wrap it up. Because there’s cake, and Baily just brought out more wine. Not that I can drink any of that.”
“And Mac wants to learn how to catch a rattlesnake properly,” Audra said with a grin. “I think there’s one lurking in the bushes around the side of the house.”
Mac elbowed her, laughing. “Don’t listen to her. All I said was I’d like to see someone do that. Not that I wanted to do it myself.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus.” Dawson stood, looping his arm around his bride and pulling her back to the chair. “You are not wrangling animals on our wedding night.”
She traced her finger across his lower lip. “Oh, babe, I’m gonna wrangle your sna?—”
“Stop talking.” Dawson covered her mouth.
As the women spread out, laughter and music filtering through the open door, Hayes leaned back in his chair, running his fingers across Chloe’s bare skin, letting the tension ease from his shoulders.
The case was still active. The past was still murky. But for the moment, they had each other. That counted for something.
He looked up at Chloe and brushed his lips against her temple. “I’m going to stay with Cole again,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to.”
“I know,” she replied, tucking herself into his side. “But I spoke to Buddy a few minutes ago, and?—”
“In this condition?” Hayes arched a brow.
“I’m tipsy, not drunk.” She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Buddy’s given me clearance to have Cole walk me through all six bone sites. All I need now is Dawson’s blessing.”
“I doubt that’ll be a problem,” Hayes said, his voice soft. “He trusts you.”
She gave a slow nod. “Still feels like a big step.”
He kissed her temple again. “It is. But you’re not alone in it.”
“I know.” Her fingers curled around his. “Can I ask a weird question?”
“You might get a strange response,” he teased.
“If this wedding was just family and close friends, why were Dewey and Silas invited?”
“Audra lived with Silas for a month after her father disappeared. He was the only one who would listen to her—believed in her. However, things went south quickly when she decided to run from Calusa Cove. Silas took it personally, and he saw it as a potential admission of…something.”
“He thought she was guilty?” Chloe asked.
“Not really,” Hayes admitted. “But their relationship is complicated. He’s like family to her, and Dawson and Silas have gotten close. As close as anyone can get to Silas. He’s still a bit of an enigma.”
“Okay. I can understand that. But care to explain Dewey? I don’t see the connection.”
“You don’t like him, do you?” Hayes lazily traced his fingers down her jawline.
“I don’t know him. But there’s something about him. I get this feeling I’ve seen him somewhere, and it wasn’t in Calusa Cove. I can’t place it, but it doesn’t give me a great feeling. It’s not a bad one. It’s just because I can’t figure it out.”
“I hate when that happens.” Hayes nodded.
“Dewey has a connection to almost everyone in Calusa Cove. He’s kind of always just been here—lurking in the mangrove.
” He chuckled. “He and Monty, Trinity’s dad, grew up living on the same street.
They were friendly as kids. When Trinity’s family moved back, Dewey did some work for her dad.
I believe they still have a somewhat unusual friendship.
Dewey keeps the mangrove under control in front of the marina and Fletcher’s place.
When a tropical storm took out half the docks and put a hole in Fletcher’s place back about twenty-five years ago, it was Dewey who helped them clear it, without asking, and he wouldn’t take a dime from them. ”
“It’s weird. Everyone knows him, but no one really knows anything about him. I find that odd.”
Hayes arched a brow. “People have said that about me.”
“Not the same, Hayes. Not even close.” She sighed. “Let’s get some water, and then… cake.”
He smiled, nudging her gently toward the back porch. “Cake, a night in a holding cell, then a morning searching for bones. Sounds like a hell of a weekend.”
She laughed, the sound light and breathy against the heavy weight of everything else.
And for a moment, it felt like hope.