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“For sixteen years, this town has whispered your name and what happened around campfires like a scary story. You’re folklore. A ghost. Silas liked to bring up your name every now and then. So did Paul.” Dawson tucked her hair behind her ears. He stared deeply into her eyes. “A lot of people mentioned the girl with the fiery hair and soul connected to the swamp. That doesn’t mean they killed your dad, but you’re back, and they’re reminded that a man disappeared, and everyone believes you hold the key.”

“Why don’t you just come out and say it.” She leaned back on his desk. “Everyone’s afraid I’m going to kill someone else.”

“When they don’t have a reason why you did in your dad, it makes it much scarier, so yeah, they worry you’ll go off on someone else because you lose your temper like that’s the normal thing to do—even when someone’s being nice.”

“Well, it’s kind of normal for me,” she said. “Because nice always came with a price. So, I never trusted it. If someone smiled at me or gave me a compliment, I’d narrow my eyes, stick my tongue out, and say something crazy.”

“Jesus, no wonder?—”

“Hey, Chief,” Remy called. “I’ve got some bad news.”

Dawson pinched the bridge of his nose. “What?”

“When I went outside, Tim was gone. No sign of him anywhere.”

“Wonderful,” Dawson said under his breath. “Do the residue test on Audra. I’ll take her home when you’re done. Then, you can find Tim and question him about the contradictions of our other eyewitness. If he gives you a hard time, call me.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Audra glared, folding her arms.

“You’re going to have to trust me.” Dawson sidestepped her and strolled out of his office.

Trusting anyone was like asking her to Wine Wednesday with the girls in the office. It had happened once. She hated every second of it and learned that most people didn’t like her, and the feeling was mutual.

CHAPTER10

Dawson kicked a pebble.“I can’t believe Tim’s dead. Killed on my watch and right under my flipping nose,” he mumbled. His first murder since becoming chief of police of Calusa Cove, and it was possible he’d have to recuse himself from the entire process, all because his girlfriend and the victim had exchanged words. That fact was only made worse by images sent by Tim’s cousin that put Audra at the crime scene.

Utter crap, and now Dawson had to deal with the fallout—but he couldn’t even do that while standing in the thick of things. No, he had to take a backseat, and that just pissed him off.

Not that he was happy someone had been killed, but still. He wanted to be the one to link the pieces together. It wasn’t about being a hero. That had never been his reason for joining the Navy, being an MP, or being a SEAL. Or for becoming a cop.

It had always been about helping people. Taking care of his community. Doing for others what they had done for him when he’d had no one.

“What did that rock ever do to you?” Hayes came up behind him and squeezed his shoulder. As a first responder and firefighter, Dawson was grateful that Hayes had been on duty last night and this morning. It made his life a little easier.

“Nothing. Just frustrated.”

“I don’t blame you. Anything new?” Hayes asked.

Dawson shook his head. “My team’s still down there on Tim’s boat with State. I’m keeping my distance while they gather evidence. I don’t want to be accused of tainting that process. So far, Remy’s been a little too tight-lipped for my liking.”

“I’m sure he’s doing exactly what we would in this situation.” Hayes nodded. “Fletcher and Keaton are five minutes out. Are you sure you don’t want one of them at Harvey’s Cabins?”

“Each one of my deputies is willing to tail those two city assholes while off duty. Plus, Hondo’s got two weeks off charter. Outside of helping my general contractor, he’s totally bored.” Dawson’s lips twisted. “He doesn’t mind hanging out with his wife while his kids drive his mother-in-law nuts. Besides, everything that’s happening is making him twitchy. He would prefer being where his bride is, and I don’t blame him.”

Dawson leaned against the post near the docks. He stared at the State CSI unit as they continued to take pictures of the crime scene. If he could afford to give Lilly time off work at the cabins, he would. But he needed someone there during the day. “Both Eliot and James have confirmed that the dynamite belonged to them. They said it was in the crates when I loaded it into my police vehicle. I call bullshit on that because I have a log of it, and Anna is anal-retentive when it comes to evidence. I also counted the sticks myself before she brought them inside. So, I know they’re lying. It’s proving it that’s going to be difficult.”

“Well, after this call, I’m done for the day,” Hayes said. “I can take over at the cabins if you want.”

“I’ve got something else in mind for you,” Dawson said. “But I told Lilly that if she was uncomfortable working because of the situation with Audra, she could ask the other staff. She told me to shove it.”

“Sounds like Lilly,” Hayes said with a slight grin.

Dawson eyed his team as they moved about the docks, careful not to disrupt anything. Dawson was proud of his team.

Remy was an excellent cop, and while they’d had a rough start of it when Dawson had first taken the job, the last five months had been smooth sailing. He trusted that Remy would not only crack the case, but he would keep him informed, feeding him intel and allowing him to wet his whistle, so to speak—without compromising the case.

Hayes pulled an envelope from his back pocket. “Anna wanted me to give this to you.”