Page 33 of Betrayal In Calusa Cove
Audra nodded. “I’ve been where you are, especially when it comes to your brother.”
Keaton and Hayes pulled out a few boxes from the truck.
“Mind if we get started installing the new security system?” Hayes asked.
“We’ll need access to the computers,” Keaton said.
“I just need to unlock the office. If you need anything else, Audra and I will be upstairs dealing with the mess that was made of my apartment.”
“Thanks.” Hayes nodded. “If you ladies need any heavy lifting done, let us know.”
“Yeah, because Dawson doesn’t want Audra…exerting herself,” Keaton said.
Audra rolled her eyes. “My overprotective, overbearing husband is a pain in the ass.” She looped her arm around Baily. “We’d better get started. I’ve only got a few hours before exhaustion will settle in. Who knew being pregnant would suck the energy right out of me.”
“Wait until this baby is born.” Baily laughed. “Midnight and 3 AM feedings. Crying all day. You’re going to be?—”
“Ridiculously happy,” Audra said. “Besides, I have me a Dawson, and he’ll be the best daddy ever.”
“Jesus, everyone is right. You make that word sound so dirty,” Baily said.
“I blurted it out once during sex. Should’ve seen the look on Dawson’s face. It was too funny, and now I just can’t stop myself.” Audra shook her head.
“That’s just wrong.” Baily stepped into the main room of the marina, pulled her keys from her back pocket, and unlocked the office door. “There you go, boys.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Hayes set a box on the floor. “We’ll be a few hours, but I’m confident we can get this up and running tonight.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Slowly, she climbed the stairs. When she’d first sold the family home, she’d been depressed about losing all her childhood memories. So much of her life had been wrapped up in that house. She’d thought she’d lose what little of her mother she remembered. However, she’d quickly learned that those memories would always be with her. They were in her heart, and no one could take that from her.
Besides, that house had been too much. Too big. She didn’t need all that space.
She stood at the opening of what had been her sanctuary. Her private space. The place she’d end her day with a glass of wine, a good book, and thoughts of what her future might look like when the world righted itself.
“You okay?” Audra asked.
“Yeah,” Baily managed.
The apartment still smelled like fear.
Not hers—at least not anymore—but something far more primitive. Like a warning left behind by whoever had stomped through her life and overturned the pieces. The scent clung to the walls like mildew…thick, sour, and impossible to scrub away.
Baily stood in the doorway, frozen, staring at the carnage left behind. She hadn’t really cried. Not when she’d first walked back into the apartment. Not when she’d seen her dresser drawers dumped, her clothes cut into ribbons. Not when she’d spotted the framed photo of her and Ken shattered on the floor, glass shards scattered like landmines.
But now, standing there, basking in the knowledge that Dawson had no solid leads, that the crime lab had found nothing of use from the security footage, frustration threatened to crack her right down the middle.
“They didn’t leave a single damn fingerprint we can use,” she muttered, finally easing into the small apartment. She hadn’t a clue as to where to start.
Audra looked up from the hallway, where she opened a garbage bag. Her wild red hair was pulled into a haphazard bun. “Dawson said there were too many prints downstairs and only yours and Fletcher’s up here, so he’s thinking they wore gloves, all careful like, and that’s why he really believes they were looking for something.”
“They weren’t careful,” Baily snapped. “They weren’t even methodical when they tore through this place. But they knew I’d be gone. They knew what to break to hurt me.”
“And yet, they didn’t take a thing that we can tell,” Audra added quietly. “Except the gas.”
Baily’s hand tightened around the mop. “And a piece of my sanity.” She turned her back to the room and walked toward the window, flinging it open to let in the breeze. Below, she could see the marina docks glinting under the mid-evening sun. Hayes and Keaton were crouched side by side, installing the new security system—state-of-the-art, motion-tracked, facial recognition tech that probably cost more than she’d made last quarter.
She hadn’t argued when they’d told her they were doing it. She hadn’t even asked who was paying. Fletcher had just kissed her forehead and said, We’re not asking. We’re doing. You’ve been targeted twice, and we’re not playing games with your safety.
How could she argue with that logic? She wasn’t too stupid to live.
