Page 11 of Murder in Calusa Cove
“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.
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.
