by Lucy Quinn
“I have some special pastries if alcohol isn’t your poison,” Winter said with a laugh.
Rain let out a chuckle and grabbed Cookie’s hand. “Come on. You need to chill out.”
Cookie cast Dylan a look that clearly said help me. But her boyfriend just shrugged as he followed them to the front door and said, “I could use a pastry or two.”
As Cookie passed Scarlett, her friend gave her a sympathetic glance and said, “Try not to borrow trouble. I know it looks bad now, but so far all you have is a dead body. Crazy June Loon can’t arrest anyone without evidence.”
“True.” But June Loon didn’t know about the earring in Cookie’s pocket. There was no telling what she would do when Cookie was forced to disclose that little gem.
“Booze will help,” Scarlett said.
Cookie just nodded, knowing full well she wasn’t in the mood for libations. “I’ll stick with pastries. The unadulterated kind.”
“Fair enough.” Scarlett disappeared into the kitchen with Rain. Within minutes, the pair were back in the dining room with a plate of sugary carbohydrates and a tray full of coffee mugs, a carafe, and a bottle of rum.
Rain got busy serving everyone, but when she got to Cookie, her daughter shook her head and said, “Just coffee for me.”
“Oh, honey. You need to cheer up,” Rain said, placing the carafe back onto the tray. “You really need something to take your mind off all this stress.” She put one hand on her hip and tapped a finger to her lips as she narrowed her eyes in concentration.
Cookie grabbed a cinnamon roll off the tray and tore off a piece. The warm frosting was to die for, but as the words to die for rolled through her mind, a pit formed in her stomach.
“You okay?” Dylan asked, studying her with a concerned look.
“Yeah.” She waved a hand and doctored her coffee with cream and sugar.
“I’ve got it!” Rain declared, her hand over her heart and a huge grin on her face. “We’ll put on a show. The Pussycat Posse. It can be like the revue, but we’ll be the main attraction. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Winter and Cari both jumped up in excitement.
“Oh, wouldn’t it be great if we covered T-Swift’s new song?” Winter said. “‘Look What You Made Me Do?’ We can all be reincarnated versions of our younger selves. It’ll be a hoot!”
Cari laughed. “I was thinking something along the lines of Carly Simon. You’re So Vain. Then we can play off of the guys. The crowd will love it.” Cari placed her hand high on her thigh, almost where leg joined hip. “I have a miniskirt that would be perfect for that number. Thigh-high white leather boots, too… If I can find them. I think the last time I saw them they were in the basement next to my tambourine collection. Or was that my guillotine collection? Hard to say.”
“Guillotine?” Winter asked, her eyebrows shooting up her forehead.
Cari shrugged. “I like to collect things.”
“Oh, for the love of—” Cookie started.
“I think it’s perfect,” Scarlett said. “I’ll make the costumes.”
Cookie stared at her friend, her mouth open.
“Come on,” Scarlett said, nudging her. “It’s the perfect thing to lighten the mood around here. Just think how fabulous they’ll all look in their sequined go-go outfits.”
“Hale is going to kill it,” Rain said, running her hand down his chest. “There’s nothing sexier than a man who’s secure enough to wear sequins.”
Dylan snorted out a laugh.
Cookie eyed him then said, “Careful, or she’ll have you in a 70s leisure suit by the time everything is said and done.”
“Now that’s a terrific idea,” Rain said, sweeping her gaze over him. “Turquoise would be fabulous on you, Dylan.”
He gulped, and Cookie finally felt some of the tension drain from her shoulders as she laughed.
5
Dylan leaned forward in the wooden deck chair and clasped his hands together. “About the investigation… Where do you want to start?”
Staring out at the churning sea, Cookie rocked in the porch swing. After they’d had their fill of pastries, the pair of them had taken their non-alcoholic coffees out to the back porch and left the Pussycat Posse to their show planning. Cookie had to admit that the show did sound like fun, and she was glad the preparations could help her mother keep her mind off June Loon and the investigation. But Cookie didn’t have that luxury. She’d been put in charge of gathering evidence, and more importantly, she needed to find out exactly why Simon had walked onto her island.
Cookie pulled the evidence bag out of her pocket that contained the earring. “I suppose we need to talk to Cari. I’m finding it hard to believe she’s the murdering type, but all too often the perp ends up being the one you least suspect.”
Dylan glanced at the window and the people inside. “You don’t really think she’d let Rain take the heat for this if she was the one who was responsible, do you?”
She shook her head. “No. I can’t see that. Cari might be crazy, but she’s not a sociopath. If anything, she probably errs on the side of honesty. Last weekend at the craft show, I saw her chase down a customer after she shortchanged him by a dollar.” Cookie chuckled. “It turned out the guy had left it as a tip. Even wrote his phone number on the bill, hoping she’d give him a call.”
Dylan chuckled. “Yeah, not exactly a mastermind of criminal activity. Did he get his date?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure he did. I think it’s Friday night.” Cookie took a sip of her coffee. “I suppose we should at least ask her about it. Rule her out so she isn’t even a question.”
“I’ll get her.” Dylan popped up and reached for the backdoor handle.
“Just try not to make it too obvious that we’re questioning her. I don’t have the energy to deal with Rain’s wrath right this minute.”
Dylan nodded and disappeared into the house.
A few minutes later the door opened, and Cari rushed out with Dylan right behind her. She paused on the deck and glanced around. “Where is it?”
“Where’s what?” Cookie asked, her face pinched in confusion.
“The birdfeeder. Dylan said a seagull knocked it over and he wanted me to help put it back together. You know, because I have a lot of experience with small hand tools.”
Cookie raised an eyebrow in Dylan’s direction.
He shrugged. “It worked didn’t it? The rest of them didn’t want anything to do with putting a birdfeeder back together.”
“I guess so.” Cookie turned her attention back to Cari. “There are no repairs to be made. But I did need to talk to you privately for a moment.” She pulled the evidence bag out of her pocket and held it up. “Do you recognize this earring?”
Cari moved in closer and squinted as she studied the small piece of metal. When she met Cookie’s gaze, she asked, “I sure do. Where did you find my earring?”
“In the trunk of the convertible after we helped the ME move the dead man. Any idea of how it got there?”
Cari pressed her hand to her throat and visibly gulped. “Am I in trouble here?”
Cookie and Dylan exchanged a worried glance. Cookie met Cari’s wide eyes and said, “I have to be honest here. It’s not good. We found physical evidence that you were poking around inside that trunk. Unless you can give us a reasonable explanation, then you’ll likely turn into the prime suspect.”
The eccentric artist took a step back, shaking her head. “I can’t be a suspect. I wouldn’t hurt a fly. I don’t even kill spiders. I just shoo them outside.” Panic had infiltrated her voice, and she was twisting the hem of her peasant blouse with both hands.
This was the Cari Cookie had come to know over the last few months. Cookie nodded. “I know. Can you explain why I found this there?”
“No, I—wait, yes I can.” Her momentary freak-out vanished, and she gave Cookie a crooked smile. She blew out a breath, clearly relieved, and said, “I’ve been scoping out the dump for week
s. How do you think we ended up with the convertible in the first place? I made notes on everything that looked interesting. I even drew a map highlighting where the convertible could be found so we’d be the first ones to grab it.”
“You did?” Cookie asked, somewhat surprised. She knew the Pussycat Posse had been prepared for the dump sweep, and she had the map to prove it, but she hadn’t realized Cari was the one who had gone to such lengths.
“Of course. I’m always there checking out the treasures anyway. It was no big deal. I’m sure I must’ve looked in the trunk. Had to make sure no critters had moved in, you know. If they had, we couldn’t have moved it. That would’ve been unfair to those sweet animals.”
“Right.” Cookie nodded.
“Well. Now that’s settled. Can I have my earring back? I’ve been looking all over for it,” Cari said, holding her hand out.
“I’m sorry.” Cookie grimaced. “I have to hold onto it until we get to the bottom of this case. But I promise to keep it safe.”
“Oh.” Cari pressed her lips together into a pout. “I suppose since I’ve been without it for weeks I can handle a few more.”
“Thanks, Cari.” Cookie reached a hand out to her mother’s new friend. “I appreciate your help.”
Cari took Cookie’s hand, her grip firm as she stared Cookie in the eye. “Anything for my new bestie’s daughter. Rain sure is my kind of woman. I like a broad with sass.”
“Rain certainly has plenty of that,” Dylan said, rocking back on his heels.
Cookie snorted. He could say that again.
“Speaking of my new bestie,” Cari said, “I better get back in there before they make the final play list. I want to make sure I get to sing lead on a few songs. And if I don’t put myself out there, I think I’ll forever be the bridesmaid and never the bride.” Cari wiggled her fingers at Cookie and disappeared back into the house.
“I’d say there’s no way she’s the murderer,” Dylan said.
Cookie nodded. While she’d seen weirder outcomes during her time at the FBI, in this case, her gut was telling her Cari didn’t have anything to do with Simon’s murder. “Agreed.”
“Okay, what now?” Dylan asked. “Got something hiding up your sleeve?”
“Not unless we want to go door to door.”
Dylan frowned.
“My thoughts exactly. I think we should wait until Hunter calls with the preliminary background checks.”
Glancing at his watch, Dylan said, “Then it looks like maybe I might get you all to myself for the next few hours?”
Cookie stared at the glimmer in his eyes and felt a slight flutter of happiness in her stomach. “What did you have in mind, Mr. Creed?”
Dylan stood and held his hand out to her. “How about a walk down by the docks, then I’ll take you back to my place for a quiet dinner.” He looked over his shoulder into the kitchen window. Music was now reverberating through the house and a high-pitched, severely out of tune voice started singing “You’re So Vain.”
Laughter bubbled out of Cookie’s lips and she clasped her hand over her mouth, praying no one inside had heard her.
“That’s going to be hard on the ears.” He nodded to his empty hand. “Come on. Let’s go before anyone notices we’re being antisocial.”
Cookie placed her hand in his. “Oh, they’ve already noticed. It’s just a matter of when they decide we’ve had enough privacy.”
He shook his head. “It hasn’t been nearly enough, Cookie James. Not even close.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “Things are going to get a heck of a lot more private when I get you alone.”
“Promise?” she asked, grinning at him as they strode around the house and down the walkway.
“You can bet on it.”
6
Cookie’s phone rang early the next morning. So early, she wasn’t even awake yet. The shrill sound sent her bolting upright in Dylan’s bed. She grabbed her cell off the nightstand, scowled at the face flashing back at her, and answered, intending to give Agent O’Neil a piece of her mind. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she barked.
“Early? You’re getting soft Charlie. It’s eight o’clock,” Hunter said, his tone far too cheerful.
“This is your own fault. You know not to talk to me before noon.” She rubbed at her eyes, trying to wipe the sleep away. It was then she noted that the other side of the bed was empty. She really had slept in. But where had Dylan gone? She sat up and leaned back against the pillows as she continued to grouse at him. “This had better be good.”
“A little appreciation would go a long way here. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve already tracked down three leads for you,” Hunter said.
“Really?” She glanced around Dylan’s bedroom, searching for something to write on. “Give me a second. I need to find a notebook.”
“You’re going to love me after this.”
Cookie imagined him smirking while puffing out his chest like a proud peacock. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny? Rain entertaining you with her dazzling vocals again?” he asked dryly.
“No. Never mind.” She wasn’t about to tell him she wasn’t even at the inn. Some things needed to remain private. Unable to find anything to write notes on, she shrugged into Dylan’s terry cloth robe and sneaked out into the living room where she’d left her purse the night before. She dug around until she found her small notebook and a pen.
“You ready yet, Charlie?” Hunter asked. “I’m turning gray here.”
Cookie rolled her eyes. “Please. How would you even know with that shaved head of yours?”
“That’s how long you’re taking. My hair is already growing back in.”
“Funny.” She flipped the notebook open. “I’m ready now. What have you found?”
“I have three suspects for you. The first one is Johnny Bass. He’s an ex-con employed at The Salty Dog. Says here he did time for felony robbery. His probation ended four months ago.”
Cookie jotted down the pertinent information. “Okay, but felony robbery doesn’t exactly scream murderer. What’d he do exactly?”
“You’re right. I’ll see what I can find out from his parole officer, but there’s nothing to connect him to Simon’s death. You’d be remiss if you didn’t at least have a conversation with him, though. He and his buddies robbed a liquor store a while back. The clerk was shot in the foot.”
“Ouch,” Cookie said, curling her toes in sympathy.
“The second lead is Alex Balboni, bookkeeper at the Tipsy Seagull.”
Cookie tapped the end of the pen on the notebook “Why Alex?”
“You’re gonna lose your mind when you here this, Charlie. It’s unbelievable, really. I mean, who would’ve thought two different people were hiding from the mob on that tiny island of yours?”
Cookie stiffened. “Alex is hiding from DeMasi?”
“Yep. She’s former mob and under witness protection. It was a complete fluke that I even got that information, so keep it under wraps, okay? If word gets out, a whole lot of shit is gonna hit the fan.”
“You’re kidding me?” Cookie gasped out. “Former mob? Who’d she turn on?”
Hunter let out huff of humorless laughter. “Her brother-in-law. She has a previous charge of embezzlement too. But that’s all I can say about that.”
“Well, that’s one hell of a lead. You said you have three suspects. I can’t wait to hear the next one,” Cookie said, scribbling notes on Alex Balboni.
“No one tops Alex.” He paused for a second and Cookie heard the rustle of paperwork. “Keith Cumberland. Says here he works at a gym. His bank account has been flagged for unusual activity.”
“Money laundering? Or dark money? A payoff for a murder maybe?” Cookie guessed as she wrote Keith Cumberland down in her notebook.
“Maybe. All I know is that when we ran the check he had a flag from FinCEN. The case is still being investigated.”
“Wow. A case file at the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network is a huge red flag. And that’s all you know?” Cookie asked.
“That’s it. Plenty to keep you busy the next few days, don’t you think?”
The front door opened, and Dylan strode in carrying two cups of coffee and a bag that had The Salty Dog written across the front. “Oh, good, you’re up,” he said and held up the bag. “Breakfast.”
“Or maybe you already have plenty to keep you busy,” Hunter said, his tone suddenly flat.
Crap. Cookie mouthed thanks to Dylan. And instead of taking Hunter’s bait, she ignored his statement, and said, “Thank you. This information is bound to lead to something. I’ll update you when we learn anything new.”
Silence.
Double crap. Were they really going to go down this road again? She had already made it very clear to Hunter that she was with Dylan. And while she in no way wanted to throw her relationship in his face, she wasn’t about to go to extreme lengths to keep it hidden either. She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Hunter—”
“Forget it, Charlie,” he said. “You just caught me off guard. It won’t happen again.” He cleared his throat. “Do you have everything you need?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Keep me updated.”
The line went dead, and Cookie tucked her phone away, giving Dylan a bright smile. “Breakfast? Have I ever told you you’re my favorite boyfriend?”
He raised one eyebrow. “I just hope I’m your only boyfriend.”
She crossed the room and sat gingerly on his lap, lacing her arms around his neck. “Definitely the only one.”
“And Hunter?” he asked, his tone curious. “What was that about?”
“He just called to give me some information on potential suspects after the background checks came in. He heard you and got a little weird. It’s fine.” She shrugged. “And if it isn’t, he’ll get over it.”
Dylan nodded and then handed her one of the cups of coffee. “Caffeine first, then you can tell me all the dirt on our neighbors.”
Cookie laughed. “Not all. Just a few.”