Deke shook his head. “Just shoot me now.”
Normally Dylan would agree with his brothers, but an image of the pretty florist he’d met at the wedding flashed across his mind. He blinked, surprised at the pleasure it brought him. He just as quickly shook it off. He was a long way from wedding bells. Until he put Esposa behind bars, nothing else, including a woman, came first in his life.
IT DIDN’T TAKE Dylan long to get the ball rolling. Knowing Esposa might be near infused him with an energy he’d been lacking. He had to do something now, because waiting was no longer an option. Closing the book on Esposa meant moving on with his life.
The beach teemed with locals enjoying the wintery Saturday night. The bonfire burned bright, the wood crackling as the steady wind kept it stoked. His brothers had spread out among family and friends, sharing their brand of humor and chatting up the fine people of Cypress Pointe. Dylan stood alone, dwelling on his next move.
A hoot of laughter caught his attention. Derrick, holding court. He wished he could laugh as easily, but his mind was elsewhere and his thigh ached in the cold air. He chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the prospect of nailing Esposa.
When his mind started going around in circles, he finally entered the merry group, hands jammed deep in his pockets. After asking a couple of leading questions, his uncle pointed out the police chief, Bob Gardener. The older, stocky man lingered on the edge of the gathering, dressed in his official uniform, obviously on duty. Dylan made his way over, gritting his teeth as he tried not to limp, and introduced himself, mentioning his agency and title.
“Your office gave me a heads-up,” the chief said.
“Already?”
“We’re with the joint task force,” he explained, directing a no-nonsense look at Dylan. “They made sure to let me know you aren’t active in the field at this moment.”
“I’m not. I came to town for my cousin’s wedding, but I can’t ignore it when a suspected big-time drug dealer might be in the area.”
The chief nodded. “Figured as much.”
“Do you have information you can share with me?”
“First, I have to establish whether this is this coming from you in an official capacity or personal interest. I know this guy shot you and your partner.”
“Esposa. Yes.”
News traveled fast in the law-enforcement world, but he didn’t blame the chief for asking. Finding Esposa was a personal matter, as well as a professional one, and the chief had a right to know. Dylan had already spoken to his superior since the call from Tom. He was on leave, but they could command him not to nose around, though how would they stop him? The unspoken code was that Dylan had better be discreet, and if he did indeed find Esposa, he better not play cowboy and go after him alone. Dylan had been a field agent long enough to know that the hero always died, except in the movies. He was part of a team for a reason and would call upon them if needed.
“It’s both, personal and private, at this point. Is that a problem?”
“Not as long as we follow protocol. Until your supervisor says otherwise, you have limited authority in my jurisdiction, but if we find the guy you’re looking for, I’d like to work together.”
“I intend to.”
The chief regarded him once again, sizing up the man who’d come into his town requesting information. Dylan didn’t like it, but he understood. He didn’t always play well with others, but in this case he’d liaise with local law enforcement to a T. Esposa wasn’t going to get away because Dylan went rogue.
“We’ve had activity at the marina,” the chief revealed, having made sure they were far enough away from the crowd so no one would overhear. “Usually we get an influx of weekend tourists who dock and head into town to shop or visit the restaurants. The locals keep their boats moored there. But lately there have been vessels coming in and out that are suspicious.”
“How so?”
“Idling in during the early morning hours. Docking for short periods of time. Definitely not tourists.”
“What can you tell me about the marina?”
“Run by a private company. Got a guy on duty during the day.”
“Have you checked him out?”
“No red flags. Been working there for years. Company man, runs the place efficiently.”
A gust of wind whipped up the flames of the bonfire. Bright sparks shot up in the air before burning out, ash drifting down to the sand. The scent of burning wood floated toward Dylan as he processed the information. The chief knew the locals, so he’d have to trust him on this.
“Who noticed the boats coming in and out at night?”
“Local fishermen. They’re a tight group, watching out for each other. Notice when strangers show up snooping out their favorite spots.”
“Are you looking at any possible suspects?”
“A few guys have come across our radar.”
He reined in his impatience at the chief’s vague answer. “Names?”
“A couple of young punks showed up here about three months ago. Been hanging around the marina. Had a couple run-ins with ’em. Ran their names through the system. Petty stuff mostly, but with the news of a drug dealer in the wind, we’re taking it seriously. I got the names back at the station.”
Good. Somewhere to start. “Anyone else you’re looking at?”
The chief hesitated. Dylan had to hand it to the man. He’d shared a lot so far, but now wasn’t the time to backpedal.
“Still think I’m going to interfere?” he asked.
The chief met his gaze head-on. “Look, I’m bein’ careful. For both of us.”
Dylan’s hands fisted in his pockets. Patience, he reminded himself. He wasn’t going to find Esposa tonight and he needed the chief’s assistance. No point blowing it by ticking off this man.
“Got it.”
The chief chewed on Dylan’s answer before replying. “Local guy. Will Lawrence. Also been hangin’ at the marina, which is odd ’cause he doesn’t own a boat.”
“Does he have legitimate reasons for being there?”
“He’s an accountant.”
“So he could be there on business?”
“Yeah. The company that runs the marina is out of town, so Will does the bookkeeping. Known the guy since he was a kid, but I gotta say, something feels off.”
A jolt of excitement charged Dylan’s veins. He never ignored a fellow officer’s gut when he claimed something was hinky. “I’ll run his name. See if I can find anything more.”
“Doubt it. He’s a Cypress Pointe resident. Never been in trouble with the law or run with the wrong crowd. He was popular in school. Runs a stable business.”
That the chief knew of. People involved with criminal activity didn’t usually announce it to the world.
The chief’s face remained tight, his gaze daring Dylan to contradict him. “I pride myself on knowing the people around here. Just ’cause something might be off doesn’t mean he’s a criminal.”
“Fair enough.” Dylan scanned the crowd, still jazzed that there might be some leads in this town. “Is he here tonight?”
“Haven’t seen him.” The chief craned his neck, his gaze hunting over the people assembled. “His sister is by the fire. Over