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PROLOGUE

SIXTEEN YEARS AGO…

“Seriously, Dad.” Audra McCain huffed as she climbed into her father’s airboat in the dead of night. “I believe you, so no need to prove it to me.” Only, she didn’t believe. Not really. Not anymore. She’d accepted that her dad was a little left of normal long ago. His quirks—while annoying—were something she’d learned to live with because, at the end of the day, no one loved her like her daddy. He’d taught her how to survive in Calusa Cove.

Especially when the kids and their parents had started calling her a Stigini. Or an Owl Witch. At first, she hadn’t known which was worse. That , or having a father the town considered a loon because he believed in conspiracy theories. But what difference did it make? No one but her father—not even Ken—would ever see her as a whole person.

However, just because she listened to his crazy theories didn’t mean she believed a single word. Those days had died when they’d buried her mother.

Truth be told, her mama’s Native American heritage, and her ties to what some confused with witchcraft, were where the rumors of Audra being an owl-like creature had started. No one understood that her mom hadn’t been a witch. Her mother had been tethered to the earth, to all the elements, and believed humans needed to be spiritually grounded.

Audra’s dark freckled skin and red hair resulted from her combined one-quarter Seminole and three-quarters Irish heritage, giving her a unique look. But as she’d become a teenager, that mixture had only made her feel more like an outsider.

“I want a witness, and you have that smartphone thingy to take pictures,” her dad said. “Just humor your old man. Before you know it, you’ll be flying the coop.” He arched a brow. “You’ll probably run off with that boyfriend of yours.”

She cringed, remembering the fight she’d had earlier with her dad, right in the center of town for all to see, hear, and judge. The argument where she’d told her dad what a whack job he was and she wished it had been him who had died six years ago and not her sweet, kind, and loving mother. Ken had a lot to say about that.

It was rare that she and her dad fought, but when they did, the words that tumbled from her mouth were harsh and were meant to hurt.

And she’d cut him to the core. She hadn’t meant to. But he’d pushed her buttons. He used the past to force her hand. To make her feel guilty for choosing something other than him. Had it only been in front of Ken, Baily, and Fletcher—it wouldn’t have been as devastating. They understood the dynamic. But her dad had done it in front of half the school. It wasn’t even that the entire school had heard his crazy rant because everyone knew her old man thought weird shit happened deep in the Everglades. It was a running joke, and no one believed him. Not anymore. She was just tired of being looked at as though the crazy would rub off on her.

However, everyone still enjoyed the old stories. The ones this town had been made on. The myths and legends that made people stop for a hot minute on the way to their posh vacation destination to stroll through Calusa Cove and take in one of the sights. Maybe even go on a tour of the Everglades. But no one wanted to hear this new insane crap about things that went bump in the night, about the boats carrying bad men with bad things that came and went every couple of months.

She sighed. She was stuck in this small town for so many reasons, destined to be nothing but a redhead with a mouth as fiery as her hair.

“You did bring your phone, didn’t you?” her father asked, his voice laced with a sense of desperation.

“Yes, Daddy,” she said softly.

It was odd that he was fixated on that. He wouldn’t allow the internet in the home because someone could listen. Someone was always listening. Spying. Looking into what he was doing.

She was lucky that her dad allowed her to have a television with cable, though he did ask her to unplug every electronic device when she wasn’t using it—her computer included.

He’d gone ballistic when he found out she bought a smartphone with her own money. He demanded she power it off when she wasn’t using it. Actually, he’d asked that she only use it outside, but she didn’t listen. It was her only connection to the world outside of Calusa Cove.

And to her boyfriend. Though, currently, Ken was being a selfish asshole. She understood. This was Ken’s opportunity to get an education. His family couldn’t afford to send him to college, but the military could provide one.

Plus, his best friend was going with him—making it a no-brainer for Ken.

However, Ken failed to comprehend that he broke her heart every time he smiled and spoke gleefully about leaving Calusa Cove in the dust. Following him, even after she graduated high school, wasn’t something she could just up and do. Who would watch after her old man in this backward town? For years, her father had cared for her, ensuring she had everything she needed and could fend for herself. It was her turn to take care of the man who loved her more than he loved anything.

Even his stupid conspiracy theories.

She took the ear protection her father handed her and placed it over her ears just as he reeved the engines. Raising the spotlight, she helped her dad navigate the wilds of the Everglades. They could be so beautiful and peaceful at night. The stars and the moon hung in the sky like an umbrella. The water danced as if it didn’t hide death and destruction. Eyes and tails everywhere, slinking through the water, waiting for their next meal to fall in.

Audra respected the Everglades and its ecosystem. Humans might be afraid of alligators, but people were their biggest predators. Mankind destroyed more gators than there were alligator attacks. If you didn’t bother them, they’d leave you alone.

Just don’t go swimming with one bigger than you.

This wasn’t the first time her old man had dragged her out in the middle of the night to hunt for something other than gators and snakes. The first couple of times, it had been like going on an adventure, like her and her pops were pirates searching for treasure. It had helped her cope with the death of her mom.

But nothing was going to help her dad. Without his beloved bride, he had no one to ground him—not even his precious daughter, whom he loved dearly—could do that. No, he needed his Elana.

Her dad slowed the boat as they entered Snake River, a windy, narrow section of the Everglades. It was like the water version of Sleepy Hollow. Dark, creepy, and with a blanket of branches, blocking the light from the bright moon.

She took off her ear protection and studied her dad’s profile. He’d aged so much in the six years since her mom had died. It was as if the best part of him had left along with his wife.

He went through the motions of living. He got up and shaved, though not very well. He went to work—only his business wasn’t profitable. Thankfully, the house and land were paid for. But they still barely managed to put food on the table, and Audra, at almost seventeen, was getting tired of it. She wanted more for herself.

As a small child, she’d thought she wanted to work for Parks and Rec. Or maybe Fish and Wildlife. Now, she dreamed of being a photographer and journalist to see the world through a different lens than what she’d lived.

But she couldn’t leave her father.

Without her to cushion the blows, Calusa Cove would destroy him. It would eat him alive and spit out his bones.

Very few people liked her dad. Less respected him. They saw him as a crazy old man who believed in conspiracy theories.

They were right about that.

But he was also kind, loving…gentle. He knew his brain wasn’t quite right. He got that. But he also knew he still had one foot firmly planted in reality.

Only, you never really knew what you were getting when you talked to her old man. It was always a mishmash of both fantasy and reality.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, darling,” her father whispered.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier today. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, pumpkin. I know,” he said. “Forget about it.”

“So, what are we looking for?” She leaned against her dad’s arm and rested her head on his strong shoulder, the annoyance of being woken up on a school night long gone. Who cared about a stupid stats test? She wasn’t going to college. And no matter how much Ken pleaded, for as long as her dad had breath, she wasn’t leaving Calusa Cove.

As she stared at the lush trees hanging above while they took the last bend in Snake River, she wondered if she’d ever leave this place. What people thought of her didn’t matter. The call to the Everglades was stronger.

“I’ve always found it interesting that we’ve named almost every island back here but one, though at high tide, it’s not really an island, but a mush peninsula.” Her dad kissed her temple. “But it’s like Florida has dug its heels in and said, We’re not going to know. It’s the island with no name .”

“Well, then it kind of has a name.” She smiled. “No one comes back this far or down this way much. Not even on airboats.” She reached for her cell phone. No service, but she could snap pictures. “Though, Ken told me once he knew a few guys who came down from Fort Lauderdale through this section.”

It had taken them two hours to get to this spot, and they had hauled ass. But she absolutely enjoyed the ride. It hadn’t been too balmy—or too buggy.

Time with her dad always trumped the weird ways in which it happened.

“More people come back here than you think.” He touched her hand, lifting the spotlight toward the clearing. “Some avoid it because they don’t like to navigate through Snake River and Alligator Junction—especially at low tide—because too many boats have gotten plants and stuff caught in their engines.”

“But that’s why we have cages.”

Her dad laughed. “That’s for bigger debris, and we’ve had this conversation a million times.”

“I know.” She hugged his arm with her free hand. “Look at those eyes in the water over there. Got to be at least four gators just hanging out.”

“This is a prime location for them,” her dad said. “I knew a guy when I was in high school who came back here and wrestled three of them at once.”

“I remember.” Audra shivered. “Hector Mendoza. He died back here.”

“No. He disappeared,” her dad said, “on a night much like tonight about ten years ago. He told his wife he was going out early because he saw someone doing something fishy back here, and he never made it home. Some people believe he got eaten by an alligator. Others wonder if a swamp monster got him—or if he came face-to-face with Edgar Watson.”

She laughed. “I love that tale.”

“So do I, child.” Her dad nodded. “However, there are some who believe that Hector was murdered back here for what he thought he saw.”

She’d heard this a million times. “You’re the only one who believes that.” She glanced up. “Why are we out here?”

“I swear I saw something.” He pushed the lever and turned the boat toward the island with no name.

At night, everything looked different in the Everglades. During the day, it was rich in vegetation. Rich in beauty. One could get lost in the decadence of it all.

Once the sun dipped below the horizon, it was like stepping onto a horror set. Cue the music for Psycho. And yet, it was still the only place in the world she felt at home.

That thought made her chuckle. She’d never been anywhere else but Naples, which was a cesspool of tourists, snowbirds, and traffic.

“Give me the spotlight,” her father whispered—as if someone could hear them. He scanned the mangrove, finding the tree line near a clearing about fifty feet in. “Look. There. Do you see that?”

She moved toward the bow of the boat, crawling on her hands and knees. Why? She had no idea. No one was watching. Only a fool—like her father—would be out here at three in the morning. She squinted, but sure enough, a small shack and some crates with strange markings came into view. “I need my phone.”

“What the hell?” her father exclaimed. “What are you doing?—”

A searing pain tore through her body from her head to her toes. It rattled her teeth. She dropped to the hull of the boat. Blinking, she pressed her hands flat on the boat’s bottom, trying to push herself up, but instead, stars filled her vision.

Another sharp stab to her head. It was as if a bomb had exploded inside her brain.

And then the world simply turned… black.

* * *

Gripping the sides of the boat, she pulled herself up. It took all the strength she had.

A man’s muffled voice drowned in her ears. It was like every sound bubbled underwater, unable to break through the throbbing in her skull.

A second voice. Or maybe it was the same one. She couldn’t be sure. She craned her neck toward the chatter. The tone and texture of the voices were hauntingly familiar. It prickled her ears and tormented her mind. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t place it.

The voice separated. Splintered into separate sounds. It was definitely two people. She knew that now. She blinked. The horrifying pain dancing on her temples made it impossible to see anything but the blackness of night.

Splash!

She leaned over and stared at the rippling water.

The men tossed chum overboard. She knew it was chum because she could smell the blood. Smell the raw, dead meat as it hit the brackish water.

She blinked.

Tails and eyes.

Eyes and tails.

The water flipped and flopped.

Mouth and teeth lurched from the waterline. Then a tail. It slapped the side of the boat.

More teeth.

Another tail. Two gators fighting over breakfast.

Her breath caught in her throat. Something…an arm…fingers… reached up from the murky water.

The sound of an engine roared in the distance.

Bolting upright, she screamed.

She huffed, sucking in a deep breath. She clutched the sheets as her chest burned for more oxygen.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m right here,” Ken said, taking her hand. “Same nightmare?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, fluffing the pillow and sitting higher in the hospital bed. Every time she closed her eyes, it was the same. It was like her father was reaching out of the water, begging her to save him.

And she’d failed.

“Whoever clocked me?—”

“Audra, you’ve got to stop telling that story. It makes you sound as crazy as your dad.”

She pursed her lips. “Are you going to sit there and tell me the bumps on the back of my head aren’t real?”

“No. But it makes more sense that it was an accident, and that’s the tale you need to tell. There was damage to your dad’s airboat. Before someone found you, you had to use an oar to get close to the docks. You and your dad ran into something out there, and you fell and hit your head. It’s a miracle that you didn’t fall into the water yourself. You go off the rails about someone trying to kill him…” Ken let the words trail off as he let out a long sigh.

Thank God. Because she would have popped him in the mouth if he’d kept talking.

But that wasn’t going to stop her from laying into him either.

“Are you kidding me? Explain to me how my father got dumped into the water if he was the one driving and I was crawling on the bow of the boat?” She held up her hand. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. “Also, please enlighten me how so many gators ended up swarming that boat.” She cocked her head. “Because that doesn’t happen unless you chum the water.”

“Babe. You’re basing the alligator swarm on a nightmare.”

“Don’t you dare ‘babe’ me,” she mumbled. “Maybe my dream isn’t completely accurate. But someone hit me over the head. I didn’t fall. Why don’t you believe me? You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” Ken said. “You have to understand how crazy this sounds and how people are going to?—”

A tap at the door thankfully shut him up because she couldn’t listen to another word. “Come in.” She adjusted her covers.

“Sorry to bother you,” Chief of Police Trip Williams said, “but I need to interview you, and sorry, young man. I need to do it alone.”

“No problem.” Ken squeezed her hand. “I’ll go get you a milkshake.”

Ken and his stupid milkshakes. They didn’t solve anything, and they weren’t going to make their problems go away.

Trip pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable. She’d known Trip her entire life. He was a decent man who treated the people of Calusa Cove with kindness, her father included.

But sometimes Trip could be a hard-ass.

He had that hard-ass look about him right now.

Crossing his legs, he rested his hands in his lap. He gave her a weak smile.

Yeah, this wasn’t going to be fun.

“There are a few things we need to clear up,” Trip said. He pulled out his notebook and tapped his finger on one of the pages. “I’m concerned about a couple of things.”

“I’ve told you everything I remember.” She rubbed the side of her head, careful not to hit the stitches. “Someone murdered my dad.”

“You see, that’s the problem,” Trip said. “It appears the boat hit something. It appears everything’s an accident.”

“This was no accident, Trip. Someone?—”

Trip held up his hand. “Here’s the thing. I believe you when you say it wasn’t an accident. However, getting anyone else to believe your story will be a struggle, and let me tell you why without you going off on me. Can you do that?”

“That depends.” She cocked her head and folded her arms. She might be a teenager, but she’d never had a problem speaking her mind with adults—not even the law. “Are you going to say something that’s going to piss me off?”

Trip leaned forward. “I’ve known you since the day you were born. When you came out with fiery red hair, I told your parents that you were going to be a pistol, and you’re more like a stick of dynamite.” Trip laughed. “I don’t believe anything I’m about to say, but I’m the law, little girl, and I must look at every angle. So, I’m going to tell you how this will go. You’ll let me haul you down to the station when they release you. You’re going to get a lawyer if it goes too far, and I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t.”

“You’re being a jerk,” she mumbled.

“I’m being the chief of police.” He lowered his chin. “And right now, the town gossip is that you killed your dad, tossed his body into the Everglades, and crashed the boat on purpose so that you’d fall and hurt yourself. Then, for dramatic effect, you made sure the fuel line was damaged so the boat wouldn’t be drivable. Some are even saying they heard strange noises last night. Owl noises. And that you’ve been practicing witchcraft.” He arched a brow. “While that’s all bull, there is some circumstantial evidence that points to a possible homicide, but I’ve got no body. And the motive? Well, it’s weak. However, you opened yourself up when you threatened your dad in front of the entire town.”

“I did no such thing.”

Trip waggled his finger. “I don’t have much to make anything stick. Nor will the State, but they will ask questions of you and everyone in this town. You know they will. Do you know what they will find?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “A town full of people who remember you poking your father in the chest and telling him you wished he was dead instead of your mom.” Trip dared to shrug. “Outside of talking with me, I’d stop the conspiracy theory crap. It doesn’t help you. It only makes you look like you’re a chip off the old man’s shoulder and will add fuel to a fire you don’t want to be ignited. You let me control the narrative. You let me work the accident angle. I’ll handle everything else.”

“You want me to sit back and say nothing? You want me to let this town believe I killed my dad?”

“That’s what you heard me say?” Trip shook his head. “No, little girl. That’s not what I want you to do. I need you to let me do my job, but knowing you, you’ll be out there in the middle of the night again. I can’t have that. It’s going to be hard. Damn hard. People will talk and whisper worse than they ever have. But only if you give them something to talk about. I’m a good cop. I know what I’m doing. Let me put this to bed so you don’t have this hanging over your head for the rest of your life.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Trip nodded.

“Is your goal to prove this was an accident or that my father was murdered by someone other than me?”

Trip drew his lips into a tight line. “Your father was my friend. So was your mother. They’d want me to protect you. That’s my first order of business. So, I want to direct this town into believing it was an accident. I’ll continue to dig. I’ll find out what really happened, but you, little girl, need to keep that big fat mouth closed.”

“Screw that,” Audra muttered. “Someone either took my dad or killed him. That should be your focus. I don’t give a shit what people think of me. Never have. Never will.”

“That’s a mistake.” Trip stood. “That train of thought will land you in prison for murder.”