Page 77 of Murder in Calusa Cove

Grief.

And something else entirely—something that looked a hell of a lot like surrender.

Dewey lowered the weapon.

Just a few inches.

“Take her,” Dewey rasped, nodding toward Fedora.

And then he turned the gun on himself.

“No!” Chloe lunged.

So did Dawson.

But they were too far away.

Too late.

Another shot rang out.

Dewey crumpled.

Hayes fell back, his vision blurring at the edges. Chloe’s hands pressed to his side, trying to stop the bleeding. “Stay with me,” she whispered. “You stay with me, Hayes Bennett.”

He blinked up at her—her face hazy, frantic.

Behind her, Fletcher cut Fedora free while Buddy called for backup.

The air smelled of gunpowder, blood, and swamp rot.

Hayes let out a shaky breath.

It was over.

But the story wasn’t finished yet.

Chloe crouched beside Hayes, her hands stained with blood, her body trembling in ways she didn’t fully understand. He was conscious, but the color was draining from his face too fast.

“Paramedics are five minutes out,” Keaton said, kneeling beside her. His voice was steady, but his eyes told a different story.

Fletcher hovered on the other side of Hayes, applying pressure to the wound.

Hayes gave a pained smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chloe pressed her lips to his temple. “Damn right you’re not.”

Buddy appeared at her side, his face drawn. “I took Fedora outside. She’s banged up and dehydrated, but otherwise, okay.”

Chloe exhaled, relief fighting its way through her panic. “Anyone call her mom?”

“I did. Fedora’s speaking with her now. She’s got lots of questions. Questions I’m not sure her mom wants to answer right now.”

“Yeah.” Chloe nodded. “Dewey dumped a lot on us—on her—and it’s going to take some time for everyone to figure that out.”

Buddy’s eyes dropped to Hayes. “How’s he?”

“Stable enough,” Fletcher said. “But we’re not moving him until the paramedics get here.”