by Lucy Quinn
Dylan shook his head. “You don’t really believe that’s possible, do you? They man asked you to move back to Philly with him not too long ago. You not only turned him down, but you chose someone else instead of him. A guy doesn’t get over that sort of thing easily. Give him some time. Once he’s made peace with it, I’m sure he’ll come around.”
Cookie stared up at him in awe. “How did you, a former Navy Seal, get to be so insightful?”
He winked. “I’ve always been an old soul.”
Even though he said the words as if he was joking, Cookie knew he was right. Part of the reason she was drawn to him was his calm, steady nature. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was hot and a really good sport when it came to her mother’s shenanigans. But his quiet, solid nature calmed her, made her feel at peace, made her feel at home. She leaned into him, grateful he wasn’t threatened by her former partner, and rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re pretty great, you know?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Right back atcha, Ms. James.”
Cookie lead the way up the hill from the ferry and spotted Hunter’s Mustang parked near the entrance of Sunfish Self Storage. Hunter was leaning against the car, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for them.
“Have a nice ferry ride?” Cookie asked, stopping in front of him.
“I enjoyed the quiet and took some notes.”
“On?”
“The case,” he said as he turned, reaching for the door. “Ready to start asking some questions?”
Cookie blew out an irritated huff. “Want to fill me in on your notes first?”
Hunter sighed. “Come on, Charlie. Are we really going to do this now? I was doing what I always do—coming up with theories so I know what to ask.”
“Right. Something we always did together.” Cookie swept past him, afraid if she continued the conversation she’d say something she’d regret. “Let’s just do this.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Hunter mumbled and followed her and Dylan inside.
The manager, dressed in a stained T-shirt and grimy jeans, was just as unkempt as he had been the day before. Only this time his eyes weren’t bloodshot and there weren’t snack wrappers all over the floor. Instead, he had a large coffee mug on his desk and an overflowing ashtray. The stench of cigarettes and body odor permeated the air.
Cookie took a few steps back from the desk and made a conscious effort to breathe through her mouth.
Hunter, however, apparently was missing his olfactory senses, because he leaned an elbow on the counter and said, “Good morning.”
“You need to rent a unit?” the man asked, barely glancing at Hunter.
“No, but I do have some questions about Lydia Rosen and what you might know about that situation.”
The man stood up and walked over to the counter. His disinterested gaze swept over Hunter, then Dylan, and finally landed on Cookie. His eyes lit up and a greedy smile claimed his lips. “You again. You’re Cookie, right? Rain’s daughter.”
“I am,” Cookie said, stepping up beside Hunter. “And your name is?”
“Isaac.” He squinted as he studied her.
“Nice to see you again, Isaac. As Agent O’Neill already explained, we’re here to ask you some questions about Lydia Rosen and the storage locker where her body was found. Can you tell us who paid the rent these last five years?”
“Probably. Do you have something for me? A package from Rain perhaps?”
Cookie rolled her eyes. No doubt he was expecting payment after Rain and Winter bribed him the day before. “No. Like Agent O’Neill said, we’re just here to ask some questions.”
“That’s disappointing.” His shoulders slumped as he retreated back to his chair and kicked his feet up on the edge of the desk. “I don’t know anything.”
“You seemed to think you did when you thought you might be getting high,” Cookie said, not bothering to hide the irritation in her tone.
“Hey, those are your words, not mine.” He strummed his fingers on the desk and smirked.
“Listen, Isaac,” Hunter said, his voice as hard as steel. “You’re going to turn on that dinosaur of a computer, give us the name of the person who rented that locker, and then you’re going to hand over any security tapes the facility keeps. And you’re going to do it without complaint. Got it?”
“What if I don’t?” Isaac asked, glaring at Hunter. “You got a warrant or something?”
“No, but if you don’t comply, I’m going to arrest you on charges of drug solicitation. And just in time for Valentine’s Day. I’m sure you’ll find a nice date in the county jail.”
Isaac’s face turned to ash and he quickly stood, shaking his head. “I was just joking around, man. No need to get all anal agent on me.” Instead of firing up the circa nineteen ninety-eight computer, he pulled out a log book and flipped it open. He ran his finger down the page and stopped at number thirteen. “The unit was rented to a Blake Rosen. It says paid cash for the entire year.”
“Blake?” Cookie blurted. That was Lydia’s husband and Winter’s boyfriend. “Are you sure?”
He raised his hands up in a surrender motion. “That’s what it says. Look for yourself.”
Hunter leaned over the counter and eyed the book. He gave Cookie a quick nod.
“Crap,” Cookie muttered.
“That’s pretty damning evidence against Blake,” Dylan said from behind them.
Hunter turned and nodded. “If he’s been paying the rent on the unit for the last five years it’s going to be easy for a DA to point the finger right at him.”
“But why would a married couple rent a storage unit for a love nest?” Cookie asked.
“To spice things up?” Isaac said, pumping his eyebrows. “Keep things interesting? You know it’s always the nice respectable ones who are the dirtiest in the bedroom.”
“I bet they were the latex type,” Hunter said, giving Dylan the side-eye.
Dylan just laughed. “From what we saw, it looked like they didn’t have a problem with silk either.”
Isaac furrowed his brow. “I feel like I missed something.”
“Never mind,” Cookie said, shaking her head. “If the storage was paid in cash, it’s possible Blake wasn’t the one who was actually renting the unit. Cash customers could use any name, right? Do you ask for ID when setting up a rental?”
Isaac shrugged. “Depends. Sometimes. But things are pretty relaxed here. Cash customers don’t get hassled too much.”
Hunter made another note in his notebook.
“So what you’re saying is that it’s entirely possible anyone could’ve rented that unit,” Cookie confirmed.
“Sure. I guess.”
Cookie pulled out her phone, searched for Winter’s profile on Facebook, and tapped on a picture of her and Blake. Then she turned it around and showed it to Isaac. “Do you recognize this man?”
“Yes.” Isaac sounded annoyed now. “Of course I do. He was here yesterday. He’s the dead lady’s husband.”
Cookie fought the urge to snap at him. “I meant have you seen him around here before yesterday? Is he the one who paid for the unit?”
“Can’t say. I haven’t been working here that long.” He glanced down at the log. “The last payment on the unit was made ten months ago. I’ve only been working here since October after old man Pickering died last year, and his son who lives down south inherited the place.”
“Figures,” Cookie said as she and Hunter shared a resigned glance. More often than not, that was the way investigations went down. Something that should be an easy lead went absolutely nowhere.
“Do you have security tapes?” Hunter asked.
“Yes. It’s for our clients’ safety.” Isaac puffed his chest out as if this were the one thing that mattered. Cookie found it curious he was willing to rent units without ID and let two older women into the storage facility as long as they bribed him with weed, but he was proud that they kept surveillance. If anything, she�
�d suspected that maybe he’d be less than thrilled about having his actions on tape.
“We’re going to need everything you have going back at least five years,” Hunter said. “And the names and numbers of the renters of units twelve and fourteen.”
“I can’t give you the names,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Privacy laws.”
“If you force me to get a warrant, I don’t think this is going to go well for you, Isaac,” Hunter threatened. “Not unless you want all of your activities here thoroughly investigated.”
Cookie wasn’t at all sure there were enough grounds for a warrant, but she was lightly amused at the panicked look on Isaac’s face and his immediate change in attitude. “There’s no need for that. Jeez. I was just trying to do the right thing.” He opened his log book again, scribbled down a couple of names, then returned to the old computer.
The sound of the wall clock ticking filled the silence as they stood around waiting for the computer to transfer files. Cookie’s feet began to ache from standing on the cement floor and she leaned over the counter, just to take a break.
Isaac’s gaze landed on her, then dropped down as he ogled her.
Cookie glanced down to see her ample cleavage spilling out of her T-shirt. Son of a…
“Keep your eyes on your own paper, Isaac,” Dylan all but growled as Cookie quickly stood up and tugged at her shirt.
“Hey man, she’s the one who put them right in my face.”
“He has a point,” Hunter said.
Cookie scowled at both of them as she crossed her arms over her chest as if she could retroactively cover herself.
Dylan draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side protectively.
Finally, the computer dinged and Isaac produced a thumb drive. “It’s only thirty days. We don’t keep footage for longer than that.”
Cookie had expected to learn as much. Most places didn’t want to maintain too much data storage.
Hunter took the drive from Isaac then handed it to Dylan. “You should probably handle this. I bet you’re the type that likes to watch.”
Unfazed, Dylan stuffed the drive into his front pocket and said, “Sure, I can check the footage, but I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy.” A self-satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he ran a hand down Cookie’s back, stopping only when he reached her hip. “Right, Cookie?”
“Um…” Cookie’s face heated at his innuendo and she had to fight to keep from fanning herself.
Hunter’s expression darkened as he met her eyes. Then he barked, “Just watch the footage and report back what you find out about the unit and the ones next to it.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Dylan said as Hunter strode out the door.
“I think that guy needs to get laid,” Isaac said as he flopped back down into his chair.
Dylan opened his mouth to respond, but Cookie held up a hand. “Don’t say a word.”
Dylan grinned.
“Thank you, Isaac,” she said. “Your cooperation is appreciated.”
“Sure. Tell Rain and Winter to stop back in sometime. I could really use another… visit.” He mimed taking a hit of a joint. “Get it?”
Cookie gave him a flat stare.
Dylan chuckled and shook his head. “I think any idiot would’ve gotten that.” He walked over to the door and held it open for her. “Come on, boss. The investigation awaits.”
And one pissed off FBI agent, Cookie thought. Well, what did she expect? For the two of them to be besties? If she was lucky, the most she could hope for was a little cooperation.
When they got outside, Cookie started to shiver. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees, and the wind had picked up. She quickly zipped up her jacket and jammed her hands into her pockets.
Hunter was standing next to the Mustang, and he opened the passenger door. “Want a ride?” he asked Cookie. “Sorry, Dylan. The back seat is taken up by luggage and files. I guess you’ll have to walk back.”
She glanced first at Dylan then back to Hunter. “I don’t think—”
“Go on,” Dylan said, cutting her off. “It’s freezing out here, and I’m going to head home anyway.”
“Are you sure?” she asked him.
“Positive.” After giving her a kiss on the top of her head, he gently nudged her toward the car.
“Okay. Call me later.”
He nodded, waved, and strode off in the direction of his island home.
Cookie gratefully climbed into the car, and as Hunter was making his way back around to the driver’s seat, she glanced back to see just how much luggage he’d brought.
There was one duffle and nothing else.
Hunter slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine.
“No room in the back seat?” Cookie challenged.
Hunter gave her a smug smile, stepped on the gas, and tore out of the parking lot.
Chapter 9
Hunter parked the Mustang in front of the inn and turned to Cookie. “Listen, Charlie. I know it was a dick move not giving Dylan a ride, but—”
“Forget it, Hunter,” Cookie said, tired of the drama. “He’s fine. I’m fine. Let’s just get inside where it’s warm. I’m sure Rain has something cooking for lunch and we can regroup.”
He nodded once and reached for his one duffle bag.
If Cookie hadn’t been so annoyed by his childish behavior, she would’ve laughed. Instead, she jumped out of the car and headed toward the big Victorian overlooking the coastal Maine waters. On warmer days the large porch, complete with wooden swing, was a welcoming refuge. But on days like today, all she wanted was to get inside and tuck away a bowl of Rain’s fabulous soup.
With any luck her mother would have some shortbread cookies ready to go too. After the morning out, she could use a little pick-me-up.
She pushed the door open and was greeted by music so loud it was making the walls vibrate. She paused, listening to the words—Prince, and he was singing Purple Rain, one of her mother’s favorites. Cookie frowned, fearing the noise would bother their guests, and followed the sound into the living room.
“Mother!” she called but came up short when she spotted Rain in the middle of the room in six inch platforms and a sparkling purple-sequined jacket. Winter was perched on the edge of the couch, her arms in the air as she hooted and catcalled at Rain, who was lip syncing into a large purple mic.
No. Not a mic. A large purple dildo.
“That’s impressive,” Hunter said into Cookie’s ear.
Cookie jumped and closed her eyes, hoping when she opened them she would not see her mother’s lips right at the tip of a fake silicone penis.
No such luck.
Taking a deep breath, Cookie walked calmly over to her mother’s iPhone doc and pulled the plug. The music stopped, but Rain’s voice filled the room as she sang about being a weekend lover.
Oh hell, Cookie thought, trying to force image after inappropriate image out of her mind. Behind her, Hunter was chuckling. She ignored him.
“Cookie,” her mother said, still holding the dildo. “What did you do that for? I wasn’t finished yet.”
“Mother, could you put that thing away?” Cookie pointed to her mother’s impromptu mic.
“This?” Rain waved the toy in the air. “Why? It’s the perfect prop, don’t you think?” Her mother grinned at Winter, and the pair of them burst into a fit of giggles.
Cookie did her best to ignore the thing her mother was now pointing at her. “Where are the guests?”
Rain shrugged. “Out to lunch, I think. They’ll be back for afternoon tea. Why?”
“Why?” Cookie echoed. “Because perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to walk in on this X-rated revue.”
“Oh, Cookie. You’re so uptight. I was just trying to cheer up Winter. It’s been a rough few days for her.” Rain tossed the dildo onto the chair and peered past her daughter. “Hunter? I didn’t know you were in town.”
“Rain. Win
ter.” He nodded at the two women. “It’s good to see you again.”
Rain frowned. “Are you staying here?”
“Of course he is, Mom,” Cookie said. “Where else would he stay?” The inn was the only commercial lodging on the small island.
“I don’t know,” she said, walking to the checkin desk. “I’m not sure we have any available rooms.”
“That’s news to me.” Cookie moved to look over Rain’s shoulder at the reservation software. “Did we get some unexpected drop-ins?” If they had, Cookie would have to give Hunter her room, and she’d bunk with Scarlett. Or stay with Dylan. No. She couldn’t do that. She hadn’t spent a night at his place yet, and this wasn’t how she wanted the first time to happen.
“No. But the only available room is the one I was going to repaint this week,” Rain said, a petulant look on her face.
“Repaint… what?” Since when had her mother ever painted anything? They usually hired Dylan to do those tasks. Cookie scanned the software and noted the only available room was the one across from Cookie’s. Ah, that was it. Rain was worried about Cookie and Hunter sharing the same floor. She shook her head and gave her mother a warning look. “It’ll wait.” She grabbed a key off the hook behind her and handed it to Hunter. “You can stay in the room across from mine on the third floor.”
Hunter’s lips turned up into a slow smile. “Thanks. I’ll just go drop off my luggage then we can have some lunch and discuss the case.”
The three women watched him go, none of them saying a word. Then Rain let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess Winter and I’ll go change into more appropriate attire.” She gave Cookie a pointed look. “We wouldn’t want the guests thinking we run a loose establishment here.”
Cookie refrained from rolling her eyes, mostly because her stomach was growling from the aroma of Rain’s pea soup, and said, “I’ll go finish lunch.”
By the time the bowls were out and bread was on the table Rain returned to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and grabbed butter as she said, “Poor Winter is so distraught about Blake still being in jail I thought she needed a little alone time. She’s lying down in my room. Please tell me you’re close to getting this all sorted out.”