Page 8 of Betrayal In Calusa Cove
Chapter 3
The dock creaked beneath Fletcher’s boots as he dropped onto the Adirondack chair, the weight of the afternoon heavier than usual. Sunlight glinted off the water, and gulls squawked overhead, but peace was a lie today. Fletcher lifted the cold brew sweating in his hands and took a long, slow draw. He’d spent the day tinkering around the house, doing his best to keep his hands busy while his mind worked through all the notes in Tripp’s journal.
He’d memorized the entries word for word. The ones from when they’d been kids, from when Ken had been dealing drugs for Massey. Fletcher had reconciled that in his mind. It was the other ones that tickled his brain and made him pause.
Journal Entry One:
Ken’s back in town. Something’s different about him. He’s polished in the way he talks. Educated. Almost like he’s above everyone in Calusa Cove, and he’s only been gone two years. But he’s also jittery, especially around me. He’s always been a bit frightened of me, but that’s a normal teenage thing. Now, he’s a man. Something feels off. It’s like he’s waiting for something to go wrong.
Journal Entry Two:
Had a beer with Ken. He’s still twitchy. Doesn’t want to look me in the eye. I asked if he’d heard from or seen Audra. He got defensive. Thought it in poor taste since he’d just gotten married, and then quickly added he’d seen her once about a year after he’d joined the military. Then I switched to asking about his new bride and her family. He smiled. Mentioned they had some manufacturing business, but brushed it off as if I wouldn’t understand. However, it felt more like he didn’t want to talk about it.
Journal Entry Three:
Ken and Julie stopped by the marina while I was there. He kept asking Baily about dock permits, contracts with fishing charters, and stupid stuff he already knows. Julie barely spoke, but when she did, it was a whisper in Ken’s ear. Strange, if you ask me. Later, I asked Ken about the conversation, and he just said, “Just trying to get a full picture.” A picture of what? He should already know.
Journal Entry Four:
Spotted Ken in the back corner of Massey’s Pub with a guy I didn’t recognize—business casual type, not local. They weren’t drinking, just talking close, heads down. When I walked by, Ken shot me a look that said, Don’t bother me, I’m busy. I tried to say hello, but he shot his hand up dismissively. I would’ve expected that from his ex, Audra. But not him.
Journal Entry Five:
Ken and his entire team are here for a visit. But Ken, he’s hiding something. I don’t know what, but it’s eating at him. I asked him straight up if something was wrong. If it had to do with Baily and her problems. He actually told me to mind my own business.
Journal Entry Six:
Ken snapped at Baily today over nothing. She brushed it off, but I saw the look on his face. Not anger. Panic. Like he thought she’d figured something out. But what?
Journal Entry Seven:
Ken and his wife Julie are in town. I’ve come to distrust them. Something’s not right. Julie has an unusual, polished smile. I heard her asking Baily about a slip “for a friend.” But she seems to hate this town, and I have no idea why she’d recommend a friend keep their boat here. She’s asked numerous times why Baily doesn’t just sell the damn place. But what was weirder was Ken. He came slinking out of Fletcher’s place, and I know damn well Fletcher wasn’t home. Nor were his parents. I mentioned it to Fletcher, and he shrugged, saying he was probably looking for me or dropping something off. But when Ken saw me, he had that, Oh, shit, I just got caught look.
The problem was that Fletcher didn’t have dates for when the entries were made. And then there were the scribbles about Ken, finances, and money. They weren’t really entries. Just question marks regarding her father and his decisions.
“You look like you’ve had a day.” Hayes leaned on the railing, nursing his own beer, while Keaton brought over a small cooler and dropped into the chair beside him.
“I have,” Fletcher admitted. But it was more than a bad day. Ever since Baily had been honest with him about how tough things had gotten with the Marina, his life had been riddled with more worry than he knew what to do with. He could handle bullets flying. He’d been trained for that. Missions, even ones that went sideways, had been a way of life.
But dealing with a failing business and wondering if he could put food on the table? That had never been something he’d had to think twice about. Baily was one bad season away from folding, and that was something Fletcher couldn’t let happen. Not if he had the power—and the means—to stop it.
“Wanna talk about it?” Hayes asked.
A lazy gator floated by near the reeds, its knobby head barely above water, indifferent to the humans watching from the dock. The marsh grasses swayed in the light breeze, and dragonflies skimmed the surface of the inlet. The distant whine of a trolling motor echoed across the water.
Down by the fuel dock, Baily moved with precise, practiced ease, tying off a center-console boat. Her braid was tucked under a faded baseball cap, her posture tense even from a distance. She barked a laugh at something Bingo said, but Fletcher could see the tight set to her shoulders, the way she double-checked the lines like she didn’t trust the knots—or herself.
Fletcher watched her a moment longer than necessary. He hated that her life had become so…hard. All he’d ever wanted was to take care of her. To be the man in her life.
Boy, had he screwed that up. He’d known joining the Navy would be hard on their relationship. But when he’d made the decision, he’d never believed it would be a forever one. It had been about an education. About possibility. About getting out of this town for a beat. About doing something other than what he’d been born into…which hadn’t been much…and should’ve been enough.
The Navy had turned into so much more, and he’d been the fool who’d believed love would be enough. That maybe she’d follow him to whatever base he’d been stationed at, and that, for a few years, they could enjoy that life, returning to this patch of land…someday.
But then her father had died, and Baily did what she’d always done and dug her heels firmly into the Everglades and her family’s legacy.
He couldn’t blame her for that.
But damn, his fucking heart took a big hit.
