by Lucy Quinn
And while she could just go over his head and call Sheriff Watkins directly, again, that was disrespectful. While the FBI wasn’t exactly the military, they did share the same respect for the chain of command. Swan was Watkins’s representative here. He was the one she needed to call. Cookie sighed. Better to get it over with.
“So you’re going to call him after all?” Rain asked as Cookie set the hand down on the table with a soft thud and picked up the phone.
“I have to,” Cookie replied, punching in the number she’d already memorized. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Much to her surprise, Rain nodded. “If it means getting that thing out of here,” she stated, gesturing at the bagged limb, “I’m all for it.” Which only emphasized how upset she was, because normally Rain hated having anything to do with the cops, inept or otherwise.
The call connected, sparing Cookie from having to reply. “Secret Seal Sheriff’s Office,” a soft male voice answered. “Whatd’ya need?”
Cookie frowned. “Deputy Swan?” His words were too mealy, too run together. Too…slurred.
“That’s right,” he said. “I’m Deputy Swan. I’m the law around these parts. Who is this, and what do you want?”
Oh, he was definitely drunk. Very drunk. Cookie reflexively checked her watch. It was just past eight o’clock. Clearly Swan had started early.
“It’s Cookie James,” she said, bulling ahead. She did her best to ignore the groan he made. “You remember that matter I called you about earlier?” Rain was standing nearby, making it impossible for her elaborate about the drugs. Cookie hated herself for thinking the worst of her own mother, but she was honest enough to admit that it wasn’t worth taking the risk. “Well, there’s been a new development.”
“What matter? Talk plain sense, woman!” Swan barked over the phone. “What now? You find another body? How is it you’re always finding bodies? I’ve been here two years, I never once found a body. Not that I want to, mind you. But you’re here a couple a’ days and you’ve tripping over bodies left and right.”
Cookie tightened her grip on the receiver, trying to do the same with her rapidly fraying temper. “We’ve been here over a month now, Deputy,” she reminded him, not bothering to soften her tone. “But yes, you are correct, I have found a couple bodies in that time. I don’t know why.” She shrugged, even though she knew the gesture was lost on him. “Just lucky, I guess.”
He snorted. “Lucky? Woman, if you were stumbling on gold bricks or wads of cash, I’d agree. But stiffs? How’s that lucky? That’s just morbid—and weird.”
A small part of her was impressed that he could remember the word morbid, much less use it correctly in his current state. “Well, setting aside our varying definitions of luck,” she said, “I’ve got another one.” She eyed the hand. “Or at least part of one.”
“What, a body?”
“Yes, part of a body. A hand, to be specific. Someone mailed it to me.”
She could practically hear his jaw drop. And she definitely heard him sputter before he spoke clearly. “Someone mailed you a hand?”
“Yes.”
“Did they put the stamps right on it, or did they wrap it in bubble-tape first?” And then he giggled like a twelve-year-old girl. When did a grown man giggle anymore? Especially over something as grisly as a hand. Apparently when he was stinkin’ drunk.
“It was in a box,” Cookie told him, rolling her eyes at her mother, who nodded. Good to know that Deputy Swan was singlehandedly reinforcing all of Rain’s prejudices against cops. “With a note.”
“Was it a ransom note? Give me the drugs or I send you another body part?” He was still giggling, but a little less now. Hopefully the idea of someone slicing pieces off a person was sobering him up some, but Cookie wasn’t counting on it.
“Not exactly. But close.” She sighed, and the cramping in her hand forced her to open her fingers one at a time before resettling them in a gentler hold on the phone. “Can I bring them by?”
That made him stop chuckling, at least. “You want to bring the hand here? To my office?”
“Well, you are the deputy,” she reminded him. “You’re ‘the law around these parts.’ Isn’t that what you said?”
“Sure, sure, but I don’t want some dead hand stinking up the place!” There was a loud clattering on the other end of the line, and Cookie suspected Swan had been leaning back with his feet up and had only now shifted to a normal sitting position. Judging by the noise, he had nearly toppled over as a result. Which was all she needed, she thought, for him to fall over and break his neck while talking to her. How would that look? What would Dylan say about that one? That now she was actually causing dead bodies, and over the phone, nonetheless? She’d need to wear a sign on her forehead that read, Caution, do not approach, may cause sudden death. Which would pretty much rule out any more kissing.
She forced herself back to the topic at hand. “Okay, so you don’t want me to bring you this hand?” she asked slowly, just to make sure they were all clear.
“No,” Swan answered at once. “No, I do not. You can keep it.”
Do not kill him, she reminded herself. Not even if you want to. “It is evidence of a crime, you know. And you are the deputy.”
“I don’t want a hand!” he yelled in her ear. “Somebody sent it to you. You deal with it.”
“So you’re saying you want me to take this case?” Cookie asked. She shifted around in an attempt ignore her mother, who was frantically shaking her head no. “And that I shouldn’t bother you with it anymore?”
“Yes!” She had to hold the phone away from her ear to keep from being deafened. “Yes, you take it! You took the other two. You can take this one, too. Talk to the sheriff. Just don’t bring it round here, got it?” A clattering sounded over the line as he hung up on her.
Cookie waited another second, just in case the line reactivated, then slowly set the receiver back on its hook.
“Oh,” Rain said with a sigh. “Oh, dear. Why’d you do that, sweetie? Now we’re stuck with that horrible thing.”
“I know, Mom.” Cookie nodded. “Sorry about that. Believe me, I don’t want it around here any more than you do. But Deputy Swan was pretty clear about it.”
“That man,” her mother declared, “is a bumbling idiot!”
“He sure is,” Cookie agreed. But deep down she was actually pleased with how that conversation had gone . Because, if she were being honest with herself, she’d hated the idea of handing this case over to Swan, even if it was only until Hunter could get out here. Now she didn’t have to, because with the deputy’s blessing, the case was hers. And she hadn’t even asked for it, so no one could accuse her of stepping on Swan’s toes.
Of course, that still left her with a severed hand. It was too late to do anything with it tonight, so she’d have to deal with it in the morning. Which meant she’d have to stow it someplace safe for now. Fortunately, she knew exactly the place. And if she’d thought that Rain wouldn’t find the drugs before, she knew they’d be safe from her now. With a severed hand sitting on top of them, her mother wouldn’t go near that freezer even if her life depended upon it.
Scooping up the hand, Cookie headed for the front door. “I’m going to go store this,” she called out as she left. “I’ll be right back. Don’t touch anything, okay?”
For once, she suspected her mother would actually do exactly as she was told.
8
The next morning, the shrill ring of Cookie’s phone woke her from a sound sleep. Groggily she grabbed for it, but it clattered on the floor when she managed to knock it off the bedside table. She lunged out of bed, scrambled around for it on the cold, hard wood, and then found it tucked into one of her shoes. Out of breath, with her heart pounding, she flopped back on the bed and answered the call.
“This had better be the most amazing thing ever,” she declared into the phone, leaning back against her pillow and shoving her hair out of her face.
“Well
, not to toot my own horn,” a deep, sexy male voice replied, “but I am pretty great. Or so I’ve been told.”
“Hunter!” Sitting up, Cookie glared at the bedside clock. It claimed that it was already 6:59 in the morning, and even as she watched the numbers shift to 7:00, she took that as a personal betrayal. “Are you here? Tell me you’re here. You’re not, though, right? Because it’s early. Too early. Why are you calling this early if you’re not here?”
Her former partner’s warm chuckle sounded in her ear. “And a good morning to you too,” he said. “Nice to see you’re still just as out of it when you wake up.” That brought a flush to her face and chest, even though the closest Hunter had ever been to seeing her when she woke up was the time she’d fallen asleep while they were on a stakeout. “No, I’m not there yet. About to board, actually. Should be there sometime tonight. I think they’re saying around six.”
“Oh. Okay. Great.” Not for the first time, Cookie cursed how far Secret Seal Isle was from anything resembling a big city—or a major airport—and how long and tedious it was to get out here. Then again, that had been the point. It was just damned inconvenient at times like this. “Call me when you’re on the ferry, and I’ll meet you at the dock.”
“Will do.” He got serious, then. “Everything okay? Any new developments?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Sitting there cross-legged on her bed in sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt, she proceeded to tell him about the ghastly package she’d received and Rain’s reaction when she’d foolishly opened it.
“Serves her right,” Hunter decided after she’d finished. “Still, that’s pretty high on the creep factor.”
“I know, right?” Cookie turned toward her windows, where even through the curtains the glare of the sunlight made her squint. Was everything against her this morning? “And you’ll be proud of me. For once I didn’t try to Lone Wolf it.” She recounted her call to Deputy Swan.
“Wow.” This time Hunter’s voice was low and flat, a clear sign of his disapproval. “I didn’t see that one coming. I mean, the man’s useless, but getting drunk on the job? That’s pathetic.”
“Yeah, well, I guess it doesn’t help that I keep showing him up,” Cookie admitted. Not that she felt a lot of sympathy for Swan. “Anyway, I was going to take the hand over to Jared this morning and get him to start running tests, see what he can find out.”
“Good idea. Maybe he’ll have something by the time I get in.”
“That’s what I’m going for.” She smiled. “See you later?”
“You know it.” He hung up, and Cookie sat there for a minute, staring at the phone in her hand. Damn. She’d always thought it was unfair that her partner was so hot. Life would’ve been a lot easier if she’d shared her cases with a fat, frumpy, middle-aged married guy. Not as interesting, probably, but a lot easier.
Still, the partner she did have was on his way out here, which meant she’d better get moving. With a groan and one last accusing stare at the alarm clock, Cookie hopped out of bed. Stretching and yawning, she trekked toward the bathroom at the end of the hall. She already had the feeling this was going to be a long day.
Cookie’s mood improved slightly after a hot shower and clean clothes, and she traipsed downstairs and into the kitchen.
“Morning, sweetie!” Rain called cheerfully as the aroma of coffee wafted toward Cookie. “Good timing. I just finished making breakfast.” Rain appeared as if she’d been up for hours, which might have been the case. She’d always been an early riser, and had usually finished her yoga long before Cookie could drag herself out of bed. The good news was, that meant Rain usually had breakfast ready and waiting for her. And today was no exception. There were eggs and bacon, hash browns, toast, orange juice and, of course, a fresh pot of coffee that tantalized Cookie’s need to wake up. She reached for the coffee first, taking a long drink from her mug.
“Mom, you’re a godsend,” she told Rain as she dished some food onto her plate. Since their last guest had left the morning before, the two of them ate in the kitchen where it was nice and cozy and meant one less room to clean when they were done.
“Thanks.” Her mother beamed at the compliment. Her chair creaked when she sat down and took some food for herself. “So,” she said after they’d both had a chance to eat a bit, “what’s the plan for today?”
“I’m taking the hand over to Hancock,” Cookie answered after a big bite of toast piled high with eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Hey, she could multi-task. “I’m going to give it to the medical examiner there, Jared. See what he can tell me.”
“Ooh, sounds exciting,” Rain said, setting down her fork and looking at Cookie with big eyes. “A medical examiner? Is that like a doctor? I’ve been medically examined plenty of times.” She giggled at her own joke.
“What? No! Ew.” Cookie waved that image away as best she could.
“I could use another check-up,” Rain said, leaning in conspiratorially.
“Oh no,” Cookie said quickly, understanding exactly what her mother was suggesting. “No way. Definitely not. Uh-uh.”
“But why not?” Rain whined, gazing at her daughter with sad puppy dog eyes. “I never get to see what you do when you’re on a case. It’d be exciting.” She sighed and glanced down at her hands. “Besides, I—I’m a little scared to be here all alone right now. What if whoever sent you that…you know, comes back looking for it? Or for you?”
Cookie started to tell Rain she was being ridiculous, but then stopped herself. Okay, sure, her mother was being melodramatic, as always, but she did have a point. Whoever had sent that package had known where Cookie lived. What if they did come back while Rain was here by herself? For now, until she figured out more—and until Hunter arrived—it might be a good idea to keep her mother close. Which is why, much to her own horror, Cookie found herself saying, “Okay, fine. You can come along.”
“Really?” Rain practically squealed with delight. “Oh, thank you, sweetie. This is going to be so much fun!” Her plate clattered in the sink where she dumped it, and she bustled out, presumably to go get ready.
Yeah, fun, Cookie thought as she watched Rain leave. My mother doing a ride-along on a case involving drugs and severed limbs. Should be an absolute blast.
9
Later that morning, Cookie led her mother into the Hancock sheriff’s station. “Jared’s down in the basement,” she explained as they headed for the stairs. “That’s where the morgue usually is.”
“The morgue?” Rain stared at her, horrified. “You didn’t say anything about a morgue. Will there be dead bodies everywhere?”
“They don’t keep them just out in the open, no,” Cookie replied. She was already regretting this decision, and had been ever since she’d agreed to it. Rain’s enthusiasm had worn on her the whole way into town. It was like dealing with an energetic small child who sucked all the energy right out of you until all you wanted to do was faceplant. “It’s fine,” she said as much to reassure herself as to console her mother.
When they reached the morgue and pushed the doors open, Rain breathed a loud, dramatic sigh of relief. There weren’t any bodies out at all, and the only person in the room was one Jared Delgado, Hancock Medical Examiner. He’d discarded his shoes and had his feet up on one of the exam tables, kicked back as he watched something on the computer screen across from him. Obviously it was another busy day here in the heart of the crime wave that was coastal Maine.
“Hey, Jared,” Cookie called out as they entered. That got an immediate, and very amusing response. Jared jerked upright and yanked back his feet like they were on fire, swiveling and planting both feet on the ground. He yelped as the cold tile of the floor touched his socks, making him cringe, but he tried to cover that by puffing out his chest.
Ah, men.
“Hello, Cookie!” Jared shouted back before remembering himself and lowering his volume. “Always a delight to see you. And who might this vision of loveliness be?” He gestured at Rain, who
simpered like a little girl.
“This is my mother, Rain,” Cookie said. “Rain, this is Doctor Jared Delgado, the county’s chief medical examiner.”
Jared stepped forward, still twitching a little each time his feet touched the cold floor. Being the morgue, the room was kept almost as cold as an icebox. “Charmed, Madame,” he told Rain when he reached them. Taking her hand in his, he swept into a deep bow. “It is rare to find so much beauty in such a dark, bleak place as this.”
Rain tittered a bit more. Jared grinned at Cookie like he was a dog who’d just done something clever and now expected a treat. Unfortunately for him, Cookie only gave him a flat stare. “That’s swell, Jared, but can we put the poetry on hold for a minute?”
His smile slid away, and his expression transformed into one of a wounded puppy.
“Oh, Cookie, be nice,” Rain reprimanded. “I think he’s sweet.” She smiled at Jared, batting her lashes, and the poor man blushed. It was obvious he didn’t get a lot of female attention, but right then was not the time.
“I need to know what you can tell me about this,” Cookie said, pulling the bag out of her purse and holding it up between them. Most people might have recoiled at having a severed hand thrust in their face, even one safely ensconced in a plastic bag. But Jared was hardly most people.
“You do bring the most interesting things,” he murmured, reaching out to take the bag from her. “Where did you get this? Was someone getting too handsy with you?” He chuckled at his own pun, and Rain giggled. Cookie rolled her eyes.
“Someone mailed it to me,” she answered. “In a box. With a warning.”
“Some warning,” the medical examiner commented, carrying the hand back over to his desk and sitting down so he could study it under the light. “It’s a man’s, obviously. Adult, mature, but not old. Caucasian, red-brown hair. It appears weathered, so it most likely belongs to someone who works outside or at least is outside a lot.” After pulling on a pair of gloves, he extracted the hand from its bag and examined it more closely. “I’ll want to run some tests, but it looks like it was removed post-mortem. Not by much, though.”