by Lucy Quinn
Dylan stepped forward and hooked a finger in the opening of her parka to tug her closer. He glanced down her shirt for a moment before meeting her gaze. The grin on his face disappeared, replaced by something more serious, and he said, “Let me know how I can help.”
Cookie smiled at him. Dylan Creed was so much more to her than a boyfriend, and she was giddy with the way he was always there for her, no matter what. “Are you sure?”
She thought about all the ways Dylan had been there for her. She knew he was just as capable a partner in an investigation as he was in her personal life, but murder investigations on Secret Seal Isle had a way of turning into more than anyone could ever anticipate. “Think about what you’re offering,” she said to him.
He smiled down at her. “I’m well aware, Cookie James. Trouble follows you like a seagull after a French fry. You need me.”
Cookie lifted up on her tiptoes as she said, “I most certainly do,” and she kissed him with the promise of much more.
When she pulled away, Dylan said, “We should get back in there. Rain and Winter were discussing a fundraiser for Blake’s legal expenses, and the word burlesque was thrown out.”
Cookie groaned and tried to keep the vision of her mother and twirling tassels out of her mind. “Right. And I’ll call Jared.” As they walked back to the storage units, Cookie called Jared Delgado, the Hancock Medical Examiner, and she braced herself for what she might find when she saw Rain and Winter again.
Fortunately, the two women were still in in their own clothing, and Cookie said to them, “I’ve called the ME. There’s nothing left to do now but wait until he gets here.”
“There’s something you need to see,” Rain said as she held out a piece of jewelry. “Look at this.” Cookie took the ornate heart-shaped pendant from Rain and noticed it was actually a locket engraved with All My Love, D.D.
“We found it in the drawer when we were putting the lingerie back,” Winter said. “I recognize the handiwork. It has to be a piece from Crazy Cari.”
“Crazy Cari?” Cookie asked.
“Crazy Cari.” Dylan chuckled. “I haven’t seen her since the summer she was crowned the final Queen Dumpy. Is she still around?”
“She lives over at the artist colony,” Winter said. A good portion of Secret Seal Isle had been designated as an artists-only area decades ago, and a few residents still lived there year round, with many artists visiting every summer.
“Queen Dumpy?” Cookie asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Who is this woman? And who would ever want that title?”
“Secret Seal Isle used to have an annual town dump parade where all the residents had to create their costumes from things found at the dump,” Winter explained. “The person with the best costume reigned over the parade as Queen or King Dumpy.”
“Crazy Cari won almost every year,” Dylan said with a chuckle.
“She did win every year. I think that woman trolled the dump on a daily basis to work on her costume.” Winter shook her head. “It was a sad day when the department of health stepped in and stopped that tradition.”
Cookie frowned wondering why anyone would want to wear a costume made from items found at the island dump. She decided she was just grateful the ritual had been long discontinued by the time she and Rain had moved to the island, because she’d bet money Rain would have participated.
“The locket’s a good clue, Cookie,” Rain said. “Right?”
“It is,” Cookie admitted. Rain had gotten involved in past investigations, and she had been helpful from time to time. “It’s a very good clue, Mom.” But her mother’s help wasn’t something she needed this time, especially since it was Rain’s best friend’s boyfriend who was under arrest. “We should get you and Winter a ride home,” Cookie added, “before Jared gets here.”
With her fingers balled up into fists on her hips Rain said, “You’re not getting rid of us that easy. We can’t just leave Blake in the hands of that pompous, no good, coffee-brandy marinated, over-stuffed shirt of a police officer, Deputy Swan.”
Dylan’s lips twitched with a smile, but he sobered when he caught Cookie’s glare.
“I promise to keep you updated on what I find out,” Cookie said. “But you and Winter are too close to this.” She softened her voice and reached out to touch Winter’s arm. “I don’t think Blake killed Lydia either. I’ll do my best to get him cleared and find out what really happened. You have my word.”
Winter patted Cookie’s hand. “Thank you, dear.” She glanced around the storage unit and sighed. “Let’s call for an Uber.”
“When did we get Uber on the island?” Cookie asked, shaking her head. The island was no bigger than a postage stamp. The idea of Uber in their tiny town was ludicrous.
Dylan’s lips twitched with amusement as he answered for Rain, “Last week when Stone decided he needed another job so he could by a boat. He wants to start lobstering.”
“Stone?” Cookie chuckled. Stone had grown on Cookie since she’d first dealt with him in an accidental death incident. At the time, he had been the local source for illegal marijuana and a bit of an unsavory character, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He’d since cleaned up his act, and apparently he now had aspirations for more than basic retail work. Cookie had to give him credit for using legal means to get there.
Rain peered up from her phone. “He’s two minutes away. We should get going.” As she and Winter left the storage unit, Rain glanced over her shoulder and winked at Dylan and Cookie. “Don’t you two do anything I wouldn’t do. Actually,” She stopped walking and turned to them. “Please do something I would. There’s a corset with the—”
“Mother! This is a crime scene.”
Rain rolled her eyes at Cookie. “You really do need to loosen up, dear. Am I right, Dylan?”
“Mom,” Cookie warned.
Rain tossed her faux fur jacket over her shoulder. “Fine. Fine. We’re going.” She turned on her heel and strutted out, thigh-high stiletto boots clicking along the concrete as if she were about to greet her adoring fans.
Dylan’s gaze followed her as his whole body shook with silent laughter.
Cookie shook her head. “So just how crazy is this Cari?”
Dylan grinned. “Your mom will like her.”
Chapter 5
The other side of the island was far enough away they could have driven, but since it was such a beautiful day Cookie and Dylan decided to walk to Crazy Cari’s house instead. Their boots sloshed through wet snow as Dylan asked, “How do you want to play this? Good cop, bad cop?”
Cookie chuckled. Dylan had assisted with cases before, but he excelled at search and rescue, and she’d never questioned leads with him. Cookie was sure his idea came from a procedural TV show, but she was willing to humor him. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll be the bad cop.”
“Uh-uh, you’d make a terrible bad cop.”
“What? I’m the perfect bad cop. What do you think I do every day with my mother?”
“And yet she still—” Dylan started.
Cookie punched him on the arm. Hard.
“Ouch!”
“You’re the one that would make a terrible bad cop,” Cookie said as Dylan rubbed his well-formed bicep. “You’ve got every woman in this town swooning over you.”
“I do not.” Dylan narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you jealous?”
“Darn right I’m jealous,” Cookie said. “Far be it for me to stop you, though. They’d all have my head if I nixed their midday, diet-soda-commercial break.”
Dylan frowned in confusion as Cookie linked her arm in his and peered up at him with doe eyes. “Oh Dylan, the ice on my roof is so thick I’m afraid of an ice dam. I’d climb up the ladder to get it but—” Cookie batted her eyelashes at him.
Dylan laughed at her. “So you’re jealous of Mrs. Dutton, my first grade teacher. She’s about seventy-five years old.”
“No. She’s not the one I’m worried about. It’s the women who gathered in the laundr
omat across the street to watch you when you stripped down from the heat of manual labor.” She paused for a moment to recall the image since she was one of those women that day. She remembered thanking the heavens that the inn’s washing machine wasn’t big enough for the king-size comforters she’d had to launder. “Did you know they have a group text devoted to your whereabouts?”
“They do not!”
Dylan was actually blushing, and Cookie grinned, mostly because she’d made up the part about the group text. She might have also been exaggerating a bit about the laundromat since she’d only overheard two women discussing his assets, but her point was made. “Face it. You’re not someone the ladies of this town fear.”
“Fine. When we question women, you can be the jealous bid—bad cop.” This time Dylan jumped out of the way before Cookie could punch his arm. He pointed off to the right. “That’s Crazy Cari’s place over there.”
Cookie glanced in the direction he indicated to see an old saltbox-style home in disrepair. It was masked by trees and brush, but through the wild landscape she could see bare wood revealed by peeling white paint. Various snow-covered mounds on the front lawn made her suspect more than costume supplies had made their way from the dump to Cari’s house over the years.
There was a path in the snow that had been formed by footsteps, and she and Dylan followed it to a breezeway that connected a one-car garage to the house. Cookie pressed the cracked doorbell button, but when they didn’t hear it ring, Dylan opened the storm door and knocked on the solid wood door instead.
“Come on in!” They heard a woman call out.
Letting Dylan take the lead since he knew Cari, Cookie held back and followed him in. They were greeted by an array of junk. On the right a narrow passageway to the garage door was bookended by newspapers, yellowed by age and stacked almost to the ceiling. Directly in front of them was a container full of empty cans and bottles as if this were Cari’s personal recycling center. To the left was the entry to the house, which was ajar. Dylan poked his head in. “Cari! It’s Dylan Creed.”
“Hold on a minute,” Cari said as Cookie and Dylan stepped into her kitchen. Only it didn’t appear to be a place where the woman cooked food. A butcher’s block island was set up in the middle of the floor, but instead of a collection of knives or pots and pans hanging overhead it was organized as a jeweler’s bench. Cari was blasting a small torch at something that was glowing cherry red and sitting on what looked like a ceramic brick.
The woman turned off the torch and glanced at them with glasses that magnified her eyes to cartoonish proportions. She shoved the glasses up to the top of her head, where gray curls were piled in a haphazard bun. She blew a stray lock of hair out of her face and grinned at them. “I have visitors. How nice to see you again, Dylan.”
“Cari,” he said, “this is Cookie James. She and her mother bought the old inn.”
“Oh. Yes. Lovely place. Brooke was married there in nineteen-something-or-other. I was a bridesmaid.” She sighed. “Horrible man. They divorced a few years later. But it was a beautiful wedding.” She tilted her head and frowned. “Or was that Stacy? Huh.” She walked over to what Cookie suspected was the stove under the visible debris. Cari lifted a cat from one of the burners and dropped him on the floor with a thud. “Can I get anyone some tea?” she asked as she pulled a kettle from behind a precariously stacked pile of dishes on the counter. Dirty or clean, Cookie couldn’t tell.
“That won’t be—” Cookie began.
Dylan nudged her with his elbow, silently urging her to take the tea.
She gave him an irritated look as if to say she was running this investigation, but when Dylan returned it with a stern one she thought about the fact he knew Cari better than she did. Perhaps it was best if she followed his lead, so she corrected herself. “We’d love some.”
“Earl Grey?” A tin appeared from behind a pile of magazines. “Oh! Wait. I just got a lovely blend from Winter Sage’s shop. Morning Mellow Mushro—”
“No!” both Dylan and Cookie said in unison. When Cari’s eyes widened, Dylan added, “Cookie’s allergic to mushrooms. Earl Grey would be perfect for both of us. Thank you.”
Cookie poked him in the stomach for throwing her under the bus. She clearly needed to set some ground rules going forward, because this was not how she and Hunter operated. Of course she and Agent O’Neil had been partners for years and were so close they knew what the other was thinking in most situations. For a moment she wished Hunter was there with her for the initial interview instead of Dylan. Having Dylan by her side felt good. Nice. Except he wasn’t Hunter, the professional partner she could predict. But if she remembered correctly, she and Hunter had gotten off to a rocky start too.
“Speaking of Winter,” she said, “that’s why we’re here. She thought you might be able to help us with something.” Cookie reached in her pocket and pulled out her deputy badge to show Cari. “Dylan and I are investigating the death of Lydia Rosen.”
“Lydia!” A light bulb may have gone off in Cari’s head because she held up a finger and said, “Maybe it was her wedding….” She shook her head. “No, wasn’t her either.”
Cookie held back the urge to sigh with her annoyance at the woman’s flakiness. But she knew from experience people dealt with the news of death in many ways. She pulled out the heart-shaped locket Rain had found in the lingerie drawer at the storage unit and held it up. “Do you recognize this?”
Cari reached for the pendant, and she smiled as she held it in her palm and stroked the top with her thumb. “Goodness, that certainly is one of my babies.”
“We were wondering if you could tell us who you sold it to,” Dylan said.
“I couldn’t possibly say. I’ve made dozens like it.” She frowned. “Lydia Rosen…huh.” Cari glanced up at the ceiling as if she were calling upon magical spirits to help. “Lydia…”
Cookie cleared her throat to bring Cari back to earth, and when the woman looked at her she said, “There’s an inscription on the back. Perhaps that will help jog your memory.”
Cari returned her glasses to her nose and peered at the back of the locket. “Hmmm, I engrave a lot of these. D.D.” She glanced up at them. “I have no idea who that could be. Hearts are rather popular with men for gift giving.” She scanned Dylan with her gaze. “Do you have anyone special you’ll need to treat on Valentine’s Day, Dylan? I’m sure I could make you something she’d love.”
“Well—” he began.
“You must keep sales records,” Cookie interrupted. She wasn’t ready to hear his answer. Dylan and she were too new for her to begin to think about him giving her jewelry. Or not. Especially engraved heart lockets promising love forever. “Could you check them for us?”
Dylan gave her a sideways glance with an expression Cookie couldn’t read. She wasn’t sure if it was gratitude for changing the subject or if it was because she was being skittish. The truth was she wasn’t sure why she was afraid of his answer.
The teakettle began to scream and Cari went to the stove to prepare the hot drinks. Steam curled up from the cups as the woman brought them over and set them on the small table off to the side of the kitchen. Cookie moved empty shipping boxes off a chair and sat as she said, “So about those records. Do you think you could check them to see if you can find out anything about who might’ve purchased the locket? It would have been at least five years ago.”
“Sure.” Cari didn’t bother to sit down but instead moved toward the cabinets. She opened one near the sink that Cookie would have used for drinking glasses and then pulled out a shoebox full of what appeared to be receipts. Judging by the haphazard way they were stuffed in the box, Cookie assumed they weren’t in any particular order. She glanced at Dylan, who shrugged and then made a show of rolling up his sleeves.
He winked at Cookie and said, “Bring that right over here, Cari, and let’s take a look.”
Cookie had to give him credit. Dylan was definitely one to dig right into whatever task
was presented to him. She pushed her irritation aside to work along with him and Cari as they all began to review the sales slips.
Paper rustled as they pulled out receipts. The cryptic notes caused a headache to throb behind Cookie’s eyes, and it was compounded by Cari reminiscing about each piece she’d made. After they had read through everything, it was clear that Cari had either lost the sales slip or had never written anything down pertaining to the locket in question. D.D. would remain a mystery until another day.
Cookie took a sip of her tea to find it was cold. Just like the lead. They’d hit a dead end, and it was time to head home.
Chapter 6
Cookie was tired, hungry, and cranky. The sun had set and the walk back to the Dylan’s truck at the storage facility was cold. And because the melted snow had refrozen and turned the wet streets into slick ice and hard snow, she had to concentrate on her steps to avoid falling. Dylan holding her close was helping, though. He had a way of warming her up that had little to do with the ambient temperature.
“That was disappointing,” he said.
“Yeah.” Cookie sighed. “It goes like that sometimes. We’ve still got plenty to go on, so we’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.”
They’d reached Dylan’s truck and after they climbed in for the short drive he asked, “What’s up first?”
“The ME. Jared should have enough information for us to plan how to move forward.”
“Perhaps right now we should pick up where we left off much earlier today.”
Cookie smiled up at him and noticed the way the dashboard lighting twinkled in his eyes. Taking him up to her bedroom was a very enticing idea. Although the inn wasn’t empty the way it had been that morning.