Page 68 of Betrayal In Calusa Cove
The line went dead.
Baily stared at the phone like it might explode.
Then she was on her feet, moving on instinct, shoving open the door. Warm, humid air swept over her like a wave. The early morning haze hadn’t yet lifted, and the sky had that gray, watery glow that warned of a late afternoon storm.
She scanned the marina yard, eyes locking on Fletcher. He was crouched near one of the airboats, tightening a bolt with a socket wrench, sleeves rolled up, muscles flexing as he worked. His bandaged arm did not appear to hinder him at all.
“Fletcher!” Her voice cracked.
He turned instantly, standing and striding toward her, the concern already etched into his face. “What is it?”
She handed him her phone. “Just got a call. Someone demanding payment in full, or I lose the marina by the end of the day. Said I’m in default.” She blinked. “I shouldn’t have come and found you, but I was just so stunned.”
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Is this the number that’s on the bill?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, and I don’t know who it was. He wouldn’t give a name. Just threats wrapped in fake professionalism.”
Fletcher took the phone and tapped the screen. “Got it.” He snapped a screenshot, sent it to himself, and then pulled out his own cell. “I’m sending this to Dawson. He’ll trace it.”
“Do you think it was one of the Barbaros?” she asked quietly.
Fletcher looked up, his expression hardening. “Could be. Hang on, it looks like Dawson is texting back.” Fletcher tapped his toe and exhaled. “Okay. Dawson said the number for the shell company you provided earlier routes through a dummy network. This one? Well, it’s not that. It might give us something real. He’s gonna dig deeper, but it’ll take some time to do that.”
Baily crossed her arms, hugging herself against the weight of it all. “They’re not playing games. This is real, and they’re gonna take my marina.”
“No,” Fletcher said. “They can try, but as Enzo said, they don’t have a legal leg to stand on.”
“But if I fight them on this, they’ll…they’ll…”
Fletcher curled his fingers around her biceps. “They want you scared. That’s what this is.”
“It’s working,” she whispered. “I’m really frightened. They tried to drown me. They shot you, and they poisoned Decker. What’s next?”
“I won’t let them take your marina or hurt you.”
“This is bigger than Massey’s operation. We know that,” she whispered. “And in some ways, it’s worse than how Dewey terrorized this town. My brother was in on this. He knew what they were planning. My own brother, Fletcher. He betrayed me. He betrayed all of us.” She looked out over the docks, the quiet water stretching toward the horizon. Boats bobbed, ropes creaked, and somewhere nearby a gull screamed.
This was her home.
“We’re going to beat them at their own game,” Fletcher said softly. “I need you to trust me.”
“I do,” she whispered. “And the Barbaros, they’ll have to rip this place out of my cold, dead hands because I won’t let them win.”
Fletcher paced the narrow strip of floor in his guest room, the carpet worn thin from boots and restless nights. He’d emptied the closet, tossing out old linens, dusty boxes, a stack of mismatched throw pillows that had no home, and still—nothing. Just air, walls, and silence that pressed too heavily on his shoulders.
He couldn’t shake the feeling.
Something was here. Something Ken had left behind.
The bastard had been on his porch more times than Fletcher could count, even during years when he should’ve been visiting his own family. And then there was Ray—that damn notebook he’d handed over like it was nothing. Like it hadn’t taken years off his life.
He sank to his knees, running his hands along the baseboards. Nothing. No scuff marks. No loose panels. He dragged a hand through his hair and blew out a frustrated breath.
Behind him, Baily’s voice drifted in from the doorway. Soft. Cautious. “Fletch…maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at this for hours.” She’d not only lost any faith that they’d find something, but she no longer believed her brother had possessed a single ounce of dignity or loyalty.
Fletcher held out a shred of hope because in all the years he’d served with Ken, one thing had always held true—Ken had always had his six. He’d never failed to save his ass. He’d always been right there in the line of fire, ready and willing to take a bullet for each one of his teammates.
Ken had been a different man on base than when Julie or her family had been lingering in the background, pulling his strings, telling him what to do, how to act, even what to say half the time. But there’d always been something lurking in Ken’s eyes. Something that Fletcher hadn’t ever quite been able to put a finger on. At first, he’d thought it had to do with Audra and how that had all gone down. Then he’d figured it was Julie and how she just hadn’t taken to Navy life and the boys.
