by Lucy Quinn
Steam rose from the bowl of soup Cookie handed her mother. “I’m afraid things aren’t looking so good right now.” Rain’s eyes widened in surprise, and she waited for Cookie to say more. “Blake’s name is on the storage facility paperwork. Apparently he’s the one who has been renting it all these years.”
“No way!” exclaimed Winter as she walked into the kitchen. “There has to be some mistake. Not only does he not like lingerie, but Blake is also claustrophobic.” Her eyes hardened as she stated, “It’s clear he’s being framed.”
“Or perhaps he’s developed those aversions since he killed Lydia,” Hunter said as he strolled into the room. He walked over to Cookie and took the bowl she handed him.
Winter looked ready to claw out Hunter’s eyes and before she launched herself at the man, Cookie cut in. “It is possible Blake was framed.” Winter gave Hunter a smug look before Cookie could divert them in another direction. “Did you know Lydia?” she asked Winter.
“I knew who she was.”
“Can you recall her having any close girlfriends? Someone who Lydia may have confided in?”
Winter frowned for a moment before she said, “I do recall seeing her at the Salty Dog from time to time with Pam Stevens. She’s a school teacher. Third grade I think.” She glanced at Rain and lowered her voice as if somehow Hunter and Cookie wouldn’t hear. “Pam likes my Spring Frolic tea blend. Says it helps her unwind after a long day with children.”
Rain gave her a knowing nod as she slurped up a spoonful of soup. It made Cookie think there might be more than a little chamomile in the tea Winter was talking about.
“And Julie Taylor.” Winter chuckled. “She’s never set foot in my shop. Probably drinks Earl Gray. She runs the historical society.”
Cookie looked at Hunter. “We should try to get to them before they hear about Lydia.”
“Agreed,” Hunter said as he strode over to the counter and set his empty bowl down with a thud. “Ready?”
Cookie spooned in a few quick mouthfuls of her lunch as she stood up and walked over to the sink. She eyed the platter of shortbread cookies she hadn’t had a chance to get to. “Sounds like a plan.” She reached out and snagged a cookie. She thought about how Hunter doubted Blake’s innocence and wondered if his pessimism had to do with the approaching holiday. While Cookie wasn’t full of herself, she was aware that her choosing Dylan over him had to sting. She felt sympathy for her former partner, a man she loved, even if it wasn’t romantic. She grabbed a couple more cookies with the hope they’d sweeten the bitterness Hunter was holding onto, and she followed him out of the inn.
Chapter 10
Rain’s cookies seemed to do the trick, because once Hunter and Cookie arrived at Pam’s house with the help of an Internet search for the address, Hunter cracked a smile. When the car ignition clicked off Cookie asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Your mother has quite a sense of style.”
Cookie chuckled as the vision of Rain in her purple sequins came to mind. Then she let out an internal groan when she remembered her mother’s choice for a microphone. “She certainly does.”
Hunter climbed out of the car and gazed at the small cape-style house before them. It was sided with natural cedar shingles that had aged to a pale shade of grey. A blue economy car was in the driveway, which indicated Pam was likely home. He pushed his Ray bans up on his nose, making Cookie note how sexy he was with his cool exterior. The man really would be a catch for the right woman. He deserved to have love in his life, and Cookie was sure with a little time he’d find it. Her heart clenched a little when she realized that when he did, he’d probably be glad Cookie hadn’t chosen him instead of Dylan.
“Let’s go see if we can save Winter’s Valentine’s Day,” Hunter said.
Cookie grinned at him. “Hunter O’Neil, you’re a romantic.”
He mumbled as his feet crunched over ice and snow on the side of the road. “Tell anyone, Charlie, and you die.”
She chuckled as she followed him to the front door of Pam’s house.
Once they rang the doorbell, an older woman who was dressed in a pleated wool skirt and sweater set greeted them. A pair of glasses hung from a beaded chain on her neck. “Ms. Stevens?” Hunter asked.
“Yes. I am she.”
Hunter’s voice deepened to a serious tone as he flashed his badge. “I’m agent O’Neil and this is Cookie James. We’d like to ask you a few questions concerning an investigation.”
“Goodness,” Pam Stevens said as she put her glasses on and leaned in to read Hunter’s badge. “FBI.” The woman let out a small gasp as she placed her hand on her chest. “Of course.” She pulled the door open and stepped to the side. “Come on in.”
Cookie noted that the kind of person who was willing to talk to the FBI without asking what they’d done was either very good at lying or so innocent they squeaked. Pam struck her as the latter. The woman led Cookie and Hunter to a couch and placed herself in a chair across the coffee table from them. “Is this about one of my students?”
“No,” said Cookie. “Ms. Stevens—”
“Call me Pam. Please.”
Cookie continued, “Pam, we have a few questions about Lydia Rosen.”
“Oh.” Pam’s face fell. “You found her?” She let out a sigh. “Is she in some kind of trouble?”
Cookie smiled at the woman. Pam was so sweet she didn’t even assume the worst. She was curious why Pam thought Lydia might be in trouble, and so was Hunter.
“No. But what makes you ask?” Hunter said.
“Oh dear.” Pam wrung her hands. “I fear I let the cat out of the bag, didn’t I?” She scowled “Lydia was—” She glanced down at her feet and continued in a hushed tone, “having an affair, and I assumed when she went missing that she’d run off with her lover.”
While confirmation of a lover indicated that the storage unit love nest wasn’t for Blake and Lydia, it still didn’t clear Blake. It pointed to a possible crime of passion instead. Declaring Blake innocent was getting more and more difficult. Cookie asked, “Do you know who Lydia’s lover was?”
Pam shook her head. “No. Julie and I—” She gave them a sheepish smile. “We were curious, but Lydia was very good at keeping her secret because we had no idea.”
“Julie?” asked Hunter. He knew better than to assume anything in an investigation, even though it was likely she meant Julie Taylor.
“Julie Taylor,” Pam said as she frowned. “The three of us used to be close, but it fell apart when Lydia went missing.”
“Why was that?” Cookie asked.
Pam let out a huff of air. “Julie saw Lydia’s disappearance as a way to get to Blake.” She shook her head. “Now, I certainly don’t approve of what Lydia was doing, but Julie moved in so quickly it was embarrassing. Poor Blake thought something awful had happened to his wife, and there was Julie, trying to take Lydia’s place. I didn’t know it at the time, but come to find out Julie and Blake dated in high school.”
“I see,” Hunter said thoughtfully.
“It was a waste of her time, though,” Pam said. “Blake wasn’t the least bit interested. She eventually gave up.”
What Pam told them did cast doubt on Julie, but Cookie knew there were two sides to every story and asked, “Do you still see Julie regularly?”
Pam shook her head. “Without Lydia it was clear Julie and I didn’t have too much in common.” She quickly added, “Not that we’re enemies or anything.” She tilted her head as suspicion clouded her face. “What are all these questions about? What’s going on with Lydia?”
Breaking the news of someone’s death was never easy, but before Cookie could come up with a tactful way for such a kind woman to hear the worst kind of news, Hunter said, “I’m sorry to be the one to break the news, but Lydia has passed.”
Pam gasped. “Dead? Oh my. What happened? Was she murdered? Is that why you’re asking me so many questions?”
“I’m afraid we can’t reveal the details jus
t yet,” Cookie said. “But yes, this is a homicide investigation. Can you think of anyone who might want to harm Lydia?”
Pam shook her head as tears glistened in her eyes. “No. She may not have been a faithful wife, but Lydia was a nice person. She certainly wasn’t the type people would want dead.”
Hunter rose to indicate the interview was over, and he held his business card out toward Pam. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call. Thank you so much for your time, Pam.”
“Of course,” Pam said. A tissue magically appeared from her sleeve, and she dabbed at her eyes as she stood as well.
When they got to the door Cookie said, “We’re very sorry for your loss.”
“You too, dear,” she said as she tugged Cookie into an embrace that sucked the air out of her lungs. Cookie patted the woman’s back lightly, aware that the hug was for Pam’s own comfort. And she hoped she could hold on long enough before she passed out from lack of air. It was Hunter clearing his throat that finally saved her. Cookie took a deep breath when the woman released her and she said, “Thank you, Pam.”
Once they got to the car Hunter said, “Winter was right that Blake was not fooling around in the storage locker, but it still doesn’t clear him of Lydia’s murder.”
“Agreed.” Cookie gazed out the window of the Mustang. “And I think we can cross Pam off the suspect list. That woman is sweeter than Rain’s cookies.”
Hunter smiled. “Maybe, but I bet she knows how to rap a wayward boy’s knuckles if necessary.”
“What?” Cookie chuckled as she pictured Hunter in the third grade. “I bet if said boy presented her with a frog…”
“Or pulled Isabella’s ponytail.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve been teasing girls all your life?”
Hunter raised his eyebrows at her and offered her a sly smile. Cookie’s thoughts returned to the investigation. Discovering that Julie wanted Blake for herself was definitely interesting. She recalled a recent case they had on the island where a pastry chef poisoned a cheating lover with cheesecake. For Winter’s sake, Cookie hoped Julie might be just as vindictive. “Let’s go find out what Julie Taylor thinks about the news of Lydia’s death.” Something told Cookie this interview would go quite differently than the one they’d just had.
Chapter 11
The trip to the historical society from Pam’s house brought Cookie and Hunter back by the inn. As they approached it, Hunter slowed down, and Cookie frowned when she realized why.
Up ahead was one very familiar car. A sedan with a bar of blue lights on the top was parked askew in front of the inn, and it belonged to Deputy Swan. “What is he doing here?” Cookie asked as Hunter pulled to a stop. Her stomach sank as she imagined what he might want. She’d never met a more useless human being. It was likely he wanted them to take on another investigation he was too lazy to complete or was there to share information that was totally irrelevant. Either way, the idea of the man alone with Rain and Winter didn’t sit well with Cookie.
“I don’t know,” Hunter said. “But we’d better get in there and find out.”
They stepped into the foyer to discover Rain and Winter in the living room with Deputy Swan. He was in the middle of telling a story, and the two women were giggling like school girls. “What’s going on here?” Cookie asked.
Swan looked at her, and she noticed he had a drink in his hand. “Just sharing a little holiday cheer.”
“You just stopped by for a visit?” Cookie asked.
“Y-yes,” he slurred. “Your mother in—”
Rain interrupted. “Archie was just telling us about the time he chased a suspect into a hen house.” She leaned forward as she spoke and placed her hand on Swan’s knee, making her ample assets practically fall out of her shirt. The top three buttons were undone, showing off her red pushup bra.
“Mother!” Cookie exclaimed. When Rain gazed at her in confusion, Cookie hissed, “Your blouse.”
“Oh,” Rain giggled as she tugged it shut. She winked at Swan. “More than a few feathers get loose in this hen house, don’t they?”
“This can’t be happening,” Cookie muttered as she walked over to the sitting area. Ice rattled in Swan’s glass as she took it from his hand. “Party time is over. You should go.”
“Cookie,” Hunter said in a low voice as he stood behind her. “Perhaps some coffee before he gets behind the wheel.”
“Right.” She sighed and looked over at Winter with the hope her mother’s friend might have a saner outlook on the current situation. “Can you handle this? I’d like to have a word with my mother.”
“Of course.” She stood. “Archie, let’s move to the kitchen so I can make us some coffee and you can finish your story.”
Hunter helped Winter direct Swan to the kitchen, and Cookie gazed at Rain. Her mother was definitely a loose cannon, and she’d done many a crazy thing, but trying to seduce Deputy Swan was too much. She suspected this was a ploy for Rain and Winter to get Swan to let them in to see Blake. While Swan may not be very effective, he was still a man of the law. It made Cookie wonder why she ever left her mother alone, because she and Winter were playing with fire when it came to Swan.
“Mother,” she said. “I think I know what’s going on here, but you and Winter really do need to be patient.”
“Of course, dear,” Rain said. “We do trust you. It’s just that…” She let out a sigh. “Never mind. You’re right, and I’m sorry.”
When Rain was contrite, it never failed to chill the heat of Cookie’s anger. She knew her mother was only trying to help her best friend, no matter how crazy her plans may be. Cookie walked over to her mother and pulled her into a hug. “You have a huge heart, Mom, and I know you meant well. But some things you shouldn’t try to fix.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Hunter stepped back into the room. “Everything under control, Charlie?”
Cookie nodded. “We’ll be back soon, Mom. Call me if you have any problems.”
When they got back outside, Hunter suggested they walk to town since they were so close. Cookie agreed and welcomed the chill of the frosty air on her cheeks. The island appeared as if someone had laid out a white fluffy blanket, and the sun sparkled on its surface like tiny threads of gold weaved in the fabric. She’d never thought of herself as a nature girl, but her time on the island had given her an appreciation for the outdoors.
Cookie had traded her love for the excitement and bustle of the city for small town life where the air was clear and the pace was slower. She knew Dylan had too, and she thought about how he was cooped up inside viewing boring security tapes from Sunfish storage facility. Her skin prickled with irritation, knowing it was because Hunter didn’t want to be around him.
She spied a stationery shop ahead, and it hit her that Valentine’s Day was coming and she hadn’t even gotten Dylan a card. While Cookie knew she should be sensitive to Hunter’s feelings, she was afraid with the way the investigation was going she might not get another chance, so she said, “I need to take a quick detour.”
When they pushed open the door to the shop, a small bell rang to announce their arrival. Cookie noticed an older man behind the counter as she made a beeline for the racks of cards.
Hunter chuckled when she began to read the offerings in the Valentine’s Day section. “I’m not sure why you’re bothering, Charlie,” he said as he reached over her shoulder for one. He opened up his card, and let out a low noise of disgust. “Dylan isn’t the kind of guy to get you a card.”
“How do you know?” Still irritated that she wasn’t with Dylan, Cookie nudged Hunter and quipped, “If you hadn’t given him hours of the Sunfish’s security tapes to watch maybe he could.”
Ignoring her question, Hunter grabbed another card which immediately started to play a song, and he snapped it shut as if it were about to bite him.
“Did you say something about the Sunfish security tapes?” squeaked out a voice, and Cookie looked over at the sal
es clerk who had walked over to them.
His hair was thinning on the top, and he was dressed in a button down shirt and sweater vest. Cookie recalled meeting him at a chamber of commerce meeting a few months ago and knew he was the owner of the shop. “Andy, right?” she asked.
He nodded. “You’re Cookie James from the inn. And you—” Andy paused to swallow hard as he gazed at Hunter, and the color drained from his face. “You’re that FBI agent. Did someone die?”
Hunter gave him a cold stare. “At the moment, I’m just a man buying a Valentine’s Day card.”
A sheen of moisture covered Andy’s face. “Right. I suppose you can’t talk about that sort of thing.”
“No,” Cookie said as she smiled sweetly at him. She handed him her card. “I’ll take this please.”
Hunter shoved the musical card toward Andy as well. “She wants this one too.”
Cookie would have made a crack at Hunter, but she noticed Andy sway a little as he made his way behind the register. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Andy turned to face her. “I—I don’t know. I think I might be coming down with the flu.”
While Cookie was sympathetic to the man’s plight, she was anxious to get out of there quickly. She and Dylan had plans for Valentine’s Day that she had no intention of missing, and getting the flu wasn’t on her agenda. “I hope you feel better,” she offered as Andy rang her up, and Hunter must have had the same aversion to getting sick as she did, because he was already holding the door open when Cookie took her bag.
They both inhaled deeply once they were outside. The icy air in her lungs invigorated Cookie enough that she was able to tease Hunter. “Who did I just buy a card for, Hunter?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He quipped back so quickly it made Cookie chuckle.
“What are we,” she asked, “twelve?”
He shrugged but didn’t offer any more information, and since they were at their destination, Cookie let it drop.