Page 59 of Betrayal In Calusa Cove
“Thanks. Keaton offered the same.” Decker gave a weak smile. “Does this mean we’re friends?”
“Don’t push it.” Fletcher laughed, shifting his gaze toward Keaton. “Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
She took Fletcher’s hand and stepped out into the hallway. “I feel like I should call Julie or something.”
“Maybe, but not until I’m sitting right next to you, and we’ve got a better handle on what we’re going to do next.” He kissed her softly. “I get the feeling things are going to happen quickly, especially if we’re able to push up the town meeting, and our bid on the Crab Shack is accepted.”
“They’re going to bring the war here, aren’t they?” Baily shivered.
“Sweetheart, unfortunately, we’re already fighting it.”
Chapter 15
Fletcher stepped into the station house and was immediately greeted by a smile, followed by a frown and a wiggle of a finger.
“What the hell, Fletcher?” Anna, Dawson’s secretary, learned against the counter. “I was told there was an incident, but I wasn’t given the bloody details.”
“Bullet went in.” He tapped the front of his biceps. “And came out clean on the other side.”
“You’ve always been able to downplay any injury.” Anna shook her head. “I bet Baily didn’t appreciate that.”
“Nope.” Fletcher chuckled. “She nearly bit my head off.”
“So, the two of you are…back together…for good?” Anna asked with a twinkle in her eye and a half grin.
“That’s my plan,” Fletcher said. “If I can manage not to screw it up again.”
“At least you’re willing to admit you’re the one who mucked it up to begin with.”
“I might be a little dumb in the romance department, but I’m not a fool.” He pointed down the hall.
Anna nodded. “Dawson’s waiting for you.”
“Thanks.” Fletcher made his way down the corridor.
Dawson stepped from his office. “How’s the arm?”
“Fine.” Fletcher rolled his shoulder, wincing slightly. “Spent a few minutes with Decker. He’s no worse for the wear, but Emily’s gonna keep him a day or two.”
“I’m so glad he’s going to be okay.”
Fletcher nodded. “He’s all fired up, though. Ready to take on the Barbaros, and I can’t blame him. I want this shit to be over. For Baily to have some peace. Her life has been hard for too long.”
“We’ll get that for her.” Dawson waved a hand, then tucked a folder under his arm. “Let’s go have a chat with this asshole.”
Fletcher followed Dawson into the interview room. A stillness settled over him, reminding him of darker days.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet Fletcher hated—thick, oppressive, unnatural. The walls felt closer with every second that ticked by. Dawson sat across the metal table from their shooter—a wiry man in his early forties with the leathery skin of someone who’d spent too much time in the sun and too little time around people. His brown eyes were flat, unreadable. His hands were cuffed to a metal ring bolted to the table, but he didn’t fidget. Didn’t twitch. Didn’t blink.
Fletcher leaned against the wall, his arm still throbbing beneath fresh gauze as a reminder. Not that he needed one.
The bastard had waited in the brush, watched Fletcher hike up the trail, and then pulled the trigger. If Fletcher had taken one more step to the right, the bullet wouldn’t have grazed his arm. It would’ve gone straight through his neck.
