Page 29 of Betrayal In Calusa Cove
“Then why all the backroom meetings? Surveyors. The guy you were with yesterday wasn’t exactly subtle.”
Decker’s smile slipped. “You know what your problem is, Ranger? You think everyone’s hiding a knife.”
Fletcher’s hand hovered near his hip. Not threatening. Just instinct. “Only when I feel a blade at my back.”
The door behind them jingled. Dawson stepped in, eyes cutting through the tension like a blade. “We good here?”
Decker looked between them and offered a lazy grin. “Of course. Just a friendly chat.”
He walked past Dawson, whistling, and stepped up to the counter.
“Let’s go outside,” Dawson said.
Fletcher blew out a breath and followed his buddy out the front door.
“Jesus,” Dawson muttered. “He always that slick?”
“Like oil on tile.”
“You okay?”
“I’m tired of being a step behind,” Fletcher said. “I want to know what he’s planning. I want to know if he’s tied to Baily’s loan and Ken’s in-laws. Or if he’s just a snake here to buy up land and put a condo on it. And I want to know all that yesterday.”
Dawson clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s gonna take time, but we’re gonna get the answers.”
“We’d better. Because the town hall meeting is next week, and Baily’s either going to snag my weapon in my sleep and do something stupid, or she’s gonna lose the marina. Both equally unsettling, but for different reasons.”
“She’s still that bad?”
“Let’s just say she told my toaster to get off her dick this morning.”
Dawson swiped a hand over his mouth and did his best to cover up a laugh, but it didn’t help. “I’m sorry, but that sounds like something my wife would say.”
“That was one of the milder things that has come out of her mouth in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Audra said she’s never been much of a swearer, and that she was always the one grounding her, but that when she’s pushed too far, watch out. It’s like someone stuck a stick of dynamite up her ass.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Just then, Decker eased through the doorway, juggling a coffee cup, a pastry, and his phone pressed to his ear. He paused to adjust everything.
“No, I’m not doing it,” Decker said, standing by the door, staring down at his shoes, not noticing the two men only a few feet away.
“I’ve done enough,” Decker said. “And I can’t keep doing this. I won’t.”
Another long pause.
“Then burn me. I don’t care anymore.” He took his cell and tucked it into his coat pocket. He paused for a moment, glancing at Dawson, before scurrying off down the street.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look like he doesn’t have all the answers,” Dawson said. “He kind of looked constipated.”
“Wonder what he meant by burn me.”
“Not a clue.” Dawson glanced down the street toward Decker. “But he’s in a big hurry, and have you noticed that he hasn’t been going to his job site over on Marco Island lately?”
“Everyone has. I also saw him at the Crab Shack last night with a surveyor and the guy he met with at Massey’s. I didn’t bother walking down there because there wasn't much we could do about it, and he wasn’t hiding it since it was during sunshine hours.”
“Yeah, I was on patrol and saw them, too.” Dawson looked at his watch. “I need to get Audra her special fruity frappé something or other and a chocolate treat.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t demand much, but ever since she found out she was pregnant, these two things every morning are the only things that she says make up for the fact that guests always want bacon.”
