Page 17 of Pirates in Calusa Cove (Everglades Overwatch #2)

CHAPTER 14

Trinity kicked and screamed but it didn’t do anything but piss off her captors. They tied her hands and ankles. They put something over her head, and then they tossed her in a boat like she was a sack of potatoes.

“Did you find the jewels?” one of them asked.

“No,” the other man said. “You’re a goddamn idiot. That fire is out of control. No way can I search that place in those conditions, and I can hear the fire trucks coming down the street. We’ve got to get out of here, now.”

She focused on the voices—focused on the tone and timbre—but she didn’t recognize either one.

“You should have gone in as soon as the alarm was disabled. The fire was overkill.”

“We needed to flush them out. We needed to separate him from her so we could snag her and the jewels.”

“Well, that didn’t pan out, now did it?”

Trinity lay perfectly still. The hum of the engine—an outboard, because she knew boats—filled the night air. The water was calm, and as they continued to move in whatever direction they were headed, it stayed calm. It stayed that way for a little bit before the boat began to rock.

That could only mean they weren’t headed into the Everglades but out into the bay. Perhaps out into the ocean.

Not that either direction was good for her.

Her father had been shot—possibly dead—and Keaton had been left for dead in a burning building. For what? Stolen jewels? Which weren’t even in the house but locked up tight in Dawson’s safe at the police station. But the bigger question was how the hell was she going to get out of this, because this was not how she was going to die.

The boat picked up speed. They had cleared the channel and were moving north toward Marco Island. She continued to focus on the movements of the vessel. She knew these waters better than most. No matter where she ended up, she’d have a decent idea of where that was if she paid attention. Or at least she hoped she would.

“What good is she without the jewels?” one of the men said.

“We can use her as leverage, and that’s what the boss wants.”

“Not if her father and boyfriend are dead. Who else in this town would give the boss the jewels to save her?” the man said. “Our boss is going to be pissed, and I refuse to take the blame for your mistakes.”

“Relax. All I did was clock the boyfriend on the head. He’s fine. The fire trucks weren’t far away. They’ll save him. Not sure about the dad, though, and I’m not the one who shot him. You did, and you’ll have to take the blame for that.”

A guttural sob filled Trinity’s throat. She swallowed it down. She would not show these men such raw emotion, not betray the horrible fear they induced. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. She needed to be strong—stronger than she’d ever needed to be before. She would survive this. She had to.

Another thing she was good at was assessing time. That came from scuba diving and understanding how much time she had been under, how much time she had left in her tank, and how much time it would take to surface safely.

The boat didn’t go too fast. Not as fast as her cruiser could have gone. She wasn’t exactly sure how fast, but based on what she believed, it was about a twenty-two-foot vessel that cut through the bay at about sixteen knots.

The men no longer spoke to one another, making it easier for her to gauge the time. She was used to silence when she was underwater. She was used to using her breath, her pulse, and her body to calculate time. It wasn’t easy, but she’d spent a lifetime learning to do it. By the time the boat slowed and pulled up to…something, she figured they had been driving for about an hour.

If her calculations were correct, they would be somewhere in Gullivan Bay. That could mean any number of small towns, marinas, or even a boat anchored. But it was a place—a location—something to work with.

The engine cut out, and utter silence filled the air until it didn’t.

“Did you get the jewels?” an all-too-familiar female voice smacked her ears. It snaked down her spine and made her shudder. Her entire world crumbled in a second.

“Mallary,” she whispered.

Keaton sat on the edge of the hospital bed while a nurse took a pair of scissors to his favorite pair of jeans. He held the ice pack to the back of his head. All he wanted to do was race out of the room and chase after whoever had taken Trinity and shot and nearly killed her father.

He had promised Monty that he’d protect them both. That they would be safe in his home.

He’d failed.

Tears burned his eyes.

Fletcher leaned against the far wall, covered in soot. He wiped his brow.

Doctor Emily Sprouse pulled back the curtain and strolled into the examination room.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the operating room with Monty?” Keaton dropped his hand to his side. He grimaced as the nurse poured some antiseptic on his thigh. The large piece of glass was still stuck in his muscle. The paramedics hadn’t wanted to yank it out, and they—along with Hayes—had forced him to take a ride in a damn ambulance instead going with Dawson.

Not that Dawson had too many leads.

Keaton didn’t even know if his attackers had come by water or land.

“Monty’s stable.” Emily leaned over, slapped on a glove, and pressed her finger against his leg. “I’m not the right doctor for the surgery. The bullet is too close to his heart, and he needs a specialist for that,” she said softly. “I’ll be heading back in to observe. I’ve known Monty a long time.” She glanced up, catching Keaton’s gaze. “I was in elementary school when he was the star quarterback in this town. Every girl, including me, had a crush on that man.” She smiled. “I made sure he had the best of the best. He’s in good hands.”

“Thank you for that,” Keaton said. “Now, how about making this process go faster so I get out of here? Trinity is?—”

“I’m well aware of the situation, Mr. Cole.”

“It’s Keaton.”

The doctor nodded. “We need to get that glass out, flush the wound, make sure no glass is stuck in there, and stitch you up. Then you can go.” She held up her index finger. “But I’m more worried about the fact you were knocked unconscious. I’m told you could’ve been out for well over ten minutes, and it took smelling salts to wake you.”

“It’s not my first concussion. I’m fine,” he mumbled.

“The fact that you can say that with a straight face is worrisome.” She arched a brow .

“He’s not going to sit idle.” Fletcher pushed from the wall. “I’ll keep a close eye on him, promise.”

She folded her arms. “I know from past experience there’s no arguing with you guys, but since it’s going to be at least an hour before you can walk out of this joint, you’re going to humor me by letting me do a final check on your head. Just a few questions to make sure you’re still ornery and coherent. I want to flash my light in your eyes and annoy you.”

“Sounds like a reasonable request to me.” Fletcher placed his hand on Keaton’s shoulder and squeezed. “But after that, he and I are gone, and he’s not doing it in a wheelchair. We’re not waiting for massive amounts of paperwork. He knows what ‘against medical advice’ means, and he’s been through worse in the Navy.”

“I can tell by his scars.” Emily nodded, snapping on another glove. “Do you want to feel the needle as I stitch you up, or are you going to let me numb your leg?”

Keaton chuckled. “You can numb it as long as it’s just a local. My days of being tortured are over, but I don’t want painkillers. I don’t need to be a walking zombie.”

“God forbid.” She went to the tray, snagged a large syringe, and jabbed him with it.

He flinched.

“All right. Let’s get this glass out.” She glanced at the nurse. “Be ready with the flush. I want to clean out the wound right away. Hopefully, we won’t see too much blood when I take this out. If we do, it changes everything.”

Keaton held his breath. He’d been through much worse, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew veins and arteries ran up and down his leg, and if the wrong one had been nicked, well, that would suck.

Fletcher left his hand on Keaton’s shoulder, and he certainly appreciated the support. It wasn’t because he was squeamish. It was more because, if he didn’t squirt a crap ton of blood, Fletcher knew he might jump off the hospital bed and race out of the room.

His heart pounded in his chest.

The fire. The flames. The smoke. The gas. The gunshots. Trinity’s scream. It all played over and over in his brain.

But what really killed him? What devoured him in the quiet hours? It was that he’d failed the two people he’d been charged to protect. The people he’d come to love. One was God only knew where, fighting for her freedom. For her life. The other one was under the knife, also fighting for his life.

And it was all Keaton’s fault.

He stared at his leg while Emily slowly lifted the glass. It burned his thigh. Blood oozed from the open wound, but nothing spewed like a volcano, and the glass wasn’t as big as he’d thought, the cut not as deep.

The nurse doused the opening with a solution. It was cold. But other than that, he didn’t feel much. At least not physically. Emotionally? He was dying inside.

“Looks better than I expected. You need maybe fifteen stitches.” Emily took the needle the nurse held out and went to work.

Keaton felt a little pinch and some pressure. But nothing else. He rolled his neck, glancing up at Fletcher. “ Check your cell. I want to know if we’ve heard anything from Dawson or Hayes.”

Fletcher dug into his pocket. “I got a text from Hayes. The fire marshal, the inspector, and the department's fire investigator just arrived. The fire is out, but now comes the hard part. Hayes said his crew is about to leave, and he got someone to cover the rest of his shift, so he’s headed this way.”

“And what about Dawson? Where’s he at?”

“I don’t know.” Fletcher tapped his fingers on his phone. “I’m texting him now, but when he left the scene at your house, he mentioned going to have a little chat with Fenton.”

“He showed up earlier to talk with Trinity.” Keaton focused on what the doctor was doing, almost wishing he’d never asked for his leg to be slightly numb. He needed to be reminded of the mistakes he’d made. “I can’t stand that man. He lied to and cheated on Trinity. He’s an arrogant asshole. But does Dawson have any real reason to believe he’d have anything to do with this? He’s not that bright.”

“Maybe not,” Fletcher said. “But he learned two things in the last few hours.”

“What’s that?”

“The first one was that Anna overheard him telling some pretty radical lies about you to some people in Massey’s Pub the other day.”

“What kind of lies?”

“He was telling anyone who would listen that he’d heard you didn’t have a stellar reputation in the Navy. That you were actually released from your contract. ”

Keaton chuckled. “No one is released from the Navy. You’re either discharged or you're court-martialed. It’s pretty cut and dry.”

“I know. That’s what piqued her curiosity. So, she brought her drink closer to the table and listened more intently,” Fletcher said. “Fenton went on to say we were all discharged because of how Ken died. He then said how he’d learned you had a temper—with women. That one even had to file a restraining order against you, and now she’s dead.”

Keaton clutched the side of his bed. “I’m going to strangle that asshole with my bare hands.”

“That’s not what got Dawson’s hackles up, because it’s all lies.”

“Based in truth,” Keaton mumbled. “Petra filed a restraining order against a stalker that I did punch, and Petra is dead.”

“Do you want me to continue, or do you want to focus on the twisted lies?”

“Please, go ahead.” Keaton waved his hand.

“Mallary’s stepmother owns a floral shop.” Fletcher arched a brow. “The same one that Fenton bought the flowers from, which he brought to the hospital and gave to Trinity.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I fished them out of the garbage,” Emily said. “They were so pretty. I didn’t want to see them go to waste. I put them on the desk, and Dawson asked me where they came from. I fished out the card and told him. ”

“Mallary lives on Marco Island. So does Fenton. Not sure why this is relevant,” Keaton said, frowning.

“It wasn’t—until Dawson went to the floral shop to buy Audra flowers, which was an excuse for him to speak to the family. A picture of Mallary was displayed on the counter. He spoke to her stepmother for an hour yesterday.”

“Trinity said Mallary and her stepmom didn’t have a very good relationship,” Keaton added.

“According to Dawson, her stepmother was heartbroken, both due to the death of her son and now Mallary’s disappearance. She blamed herself. Cried up a storm, and you know how Dawson does with crying women.” Fletcher sighed. “Anyway, the stepmom then commented about the earrings in the picture. How they were hers, and she’d let Mallary borrow them. But one went missing, and Mallary was always losing things like that. How now she felt bad about being so hard on Mallary for such trivial things.”

“While this is all riveting,” Keaton said with an exasperated sigh. “Can you please get to the point?”

“Dawson mentioned this to Audra last night before bed. She told him how Trinity found an earring.” Fletcher held up one finger. “Just one earring in Fenton’s car when they were dating. It was one of many things that made her believe he was cheating on her.”

“So, Dawson now believes Fenton was cheating on Trinity with Mallary?” Keaton asked. “That’s a stretch. Women lose earrings all the time. Petra was notorious for doing that, which was why she never bought expensive ones. ”

“I’d normally agree with you.” Fletcher nodded. “But Audra went on and on about how Mallary constantly told Trinity she should give Fenton a second chance. That she misunderstood all the text messages that were obviously sexting, and that he explained the earring.”

“It makes no sense that the other woman would want the guy she’s screwing to get back with the girlfriend.” Keaton pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I agree. But we don’t know if Fenton is telling the truth and what he might have been telling Mallary.”

Keaton sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If that man touched a hair on her head, I swear, I can’t be held responsible for what I’ll do to him.”

“Do I need to restrain him?” The doctor stood, took off her gloves, and tossed them in the trash.

“Dawson will make sure he follows the law,” Fletcher said. “Or he’ll personally restrain him.”

“Good to know.” Emily nodded. “I don’t mean to put myself where I don’t belong, but it was impossible not to overhear that conversation.” She took what looked like a pen out of her pocket and flashed it in Keaton’s eyes.

He did his best not to react too harshly to its brightness. The last thing he needed was to be told they wanted to hold him for observation.

“Are you talking about the girl who went missing when you brought Trinity in?” Emily asked.

“We are,” Fletcher said. “Do you know her?”

“No, but her picture has been all over the news, and I remember seeing her about a year ago when I went to Marco Island with my ex for a romantic getaway. We were at this cute little out-of-the-way upscale, posh resort. It’s small—only a few bungalows and right on the beach. She was with this guy. They were all cozy and romantic. I didn’t think anything of it, but I vaguely remember the guy. I think it’s that man Fenton.”

“I hate him even more,” Keaton said. “But what does those two having an affair have to do with why someone went after both Mallary and Trinity on Princess Afloat ? Or why they tried to kill Trinity and now have kidnapped her? That doesn’t make sense.”

The sound of boots marching in perfect rhythm echoed in Keaton’s ears.

That had to either be Dawson or Hayes.

Knock. Knock.

Dawson pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. “Hey, Doc.” He looped his fingers in his belt. “Are we about done in here? Can my boy have his walking papers?”

Emily sighed. “I’ll go get them, but remember?—”

“Against medical advice,” all three men said in unison.

The nurse laughed and followed the doctor out of the room.

“What did Fenton have to say?” Keaton stretched out his leg. The stitches already itched.

“That’s an interesting story all by itself.” Dawson rolled the stool the doctor had been using and planted his butt on it. “At first, Fenton denied having anything to do with Mallary. But once he learned Trinity was missing, he owned up to having a little side action with one of her best friends. But he said it didn’t last long. ”

“What a slime,” Fletcher said.

“Does he have an alibi for the last few hours?” Keaton asked. “Did you search his house? Did you?—”

“He has an alibi that checks out, and I had no reason to search anything,” Dawson interrupted Keaton. “Fenton doesn’t deny that he’s been in an on-and-off-again relationship with Mallary. He admitted that, for a time, he probably cared about Mallary.”

“I really don’t want to listen to this,” Keaton mumbled.

“It’s important.” Dawson raked his fingers through his hair. “According to Fenton, Mallary had been chasing him for months, and he ignored her advances. But after a fight with Trinity, he ended up in her arms. He said it only happened a couple of times while he was seeing Trinity, and he constantly told Mallary he didn’t want to be with her, but she was relentless and didn’t mind being the other woman.” Dawson ran a hand over his mouth. “Fenton caved a few times and admitted to spending time with Mallary after he and Trinity broke up.”

“I’d have those handcuffs close by next time I’m near that jerk.” Keaton hated men like Fenton, and he’d have no problem punching him in the nose, unprovoked.

“A few things don’t add up to what Fenton told me.” Dawson raised his hand. “I asked the same questions more than once, only I reworded them, and his story changed. He mixed up the timeline regarding his relationship with Mallary. I think he has seen her more than he’s willing to admit.” Dawson glanced at the watch on his wrist. “I also find it quite strange that he wasn’t actually at his home on Marco Island, which I’m shocked that you two didn’t think that it would have been impossible for me to make it back and forth in such a short period of time.”

“Where was he?” Keaton asked.

“A small sleezy hotel about twenty minutes from here,” Dawson said. “He told me it was late last night, and he didn’t want to drive all the way home. Bradley, who’s off today, volunteered to follow him. As of ten minutes ago, he was headed north, toward Marco Island.”

“What is it that you and that cop brain of yours is thinking?” Keaton asked.

Dawson rubbed the back of his neck. “On my way from speaking with Fenton and coming here, I called Ralph’s parents.”

“Why?” Fletcher asked.

“Keaton mentioned that right before he got clocked, Trinity’s kidnappers said, ‘Get the jewels and get the girl.’ We’ve always known they were after the jewels, and I get why they’d take Trinity if they didn’t have the jewels. But I don’t get why they’d want to take both. They don’t need Trinity if they have the jewels.”

Keaton shifted restlessly. Sometimes, when Dawson got in cop mode, he rambled. “But they don’t have them, so Trinity becomes leverage. They can use her to force Monty to pay a ransom,” Keaton said, frustrated.

“You’re missing my point.” Dawson raised his finger. “It’s the words they used. Get both. And not to beat a dead horse, but they don’t need both. ”

“Unless they’re getting greedy.” Fletcher arched a brow.

“It’s possible, but my mind has been traveling down this dark, dangerous path for the last twenty minutes. It tells me that Trinity has been a pawn in a deadly game for a while now, and Ralph’s parents might have clinched it for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“None of us knew Mallary very well. She didn’t hang out with us, even when Trinity invited her, so whatever information we got was spoon-fed to us via Trinity.” Dawson held up his hand. “Mallary told Trinity that Ralph was a bad influence on her brother and that Ralph and his friends picked on Jared for years. She said she didn’t understand why Jared was hanging out with Ralph. She also told Trinity all about the marina babe, Valerie. When all this went down last year, I spoke with Ralph’s parents, and they were angry. They didn’t like what people were saying, and they were defensive. They’ve softened a bit, but they are adamant that Jared stole those jewels. That he’d been asking Ralph all sorts of questions about them, like where his parents kept them, and he even asked Ralph to show them to him.”

“Wait. That’s new information,” Fletcher said.

Dawson nodded. “And Valerie—well, it turns out, according to Ralph’s parents—that Mallary paid her to be nice to Jared.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Keaton shook his head.

“I’ve yet to verify that, but I can think of only two reasons Mallary would do that. The first one is being a nice older sister who wants her little brother to have friends, but is totally misguided in judgment. The second one is that she was trying to set up a narrative.”

“You’re giving me a headache.” Keaton rubbed his temples. “What kind of narrative are we talking about because all she did was make her brother look guilty.”

“Let’s look at that night logically,” Dawson said. “Whoever else was out there never expected Trinity to be a witness to Jared’s boat sinking. They might not have even known it was Trinity until the next day.”

“That makes sense, especially if Mallary had something to do with it,” Keaton said. “But that means you believe Mallary isn’t missing and that she had something to do with what happened the night Trinity got shot.”

“It’s a working theory.” Dawson rubbed the back of his neck. “A weak one at best. But something stinks when it comes to her and Fenton. I’m not exactly sure what it is. I don’t have all the puzzle pieces, and the ones I do have don’t line up. I called Chloe. She’s about a half hour away.”

“Well, I can’t sit on my ass and do nothing while someone has Trinity doing God only knows what to her.” Keaton shivered.

“And I don’t expect you to.” Dawson stood. “Chloe is off the books for this one. I have to be all official-like, so I’ll be with Remy. You, Hayes, Fletcher, and Chloe can all work together.” He crooked his finger. “But do not shoot or kill anyone. I don’t need the hassle or the paperwork.”

“Understood.” Keaton nodded. “But I can’t make any promises.”