Knocking on Death's Door

by Lucy Quinn

  And though they’d come to talk to Alex, Cookie seized the moment and asked, “The Tipsy Seagull had a float in the Miss Dumpy parade, didn’t you?”

  Bernie frowned. “I think so. But I don’t know anything about it. I sure wasn’t around for it. You’d need to ask Alex. She’s knows everything that goes on here. So, like I was sayin’, Alex is over at the hair place if you want to see her.”

  “Thanks,” Dylan said. “We can get what we need from her. Good to see you again, man.”

  “Nice to meet you, Bernie,” Cookie added as they walked out of the office. When they got back outside, she said, “Bernie’s not who I would have expected the owner of the Tipsy Seagull to be.”

  “Yeah. Bernie’s changed a lot over the past few years. Once he got sober, he started fishing. He’d rather be out on his boat chasing tuna, hoping for the big money catch, than tempting himself by working in the bar. Guy like him should probably sell it, but I think as long as the bar pays his bills, he’s good.”

  Cookie believed Bernie never set foot in the bar anymore considering the state of the place. It made her wonder if it might be a more popular spot for tourists if someone came in and brightened it up with a fresh coat of paint and put a deck on the back where patrons could sit with a summery cocktail to gaze out at the ocean.

  As they walked along the road, Cookie heard the blare of the ferry’s horn and looked out at the water. A fishing boat was tooling by with a flock of seagulls following it, no doubt hoping to snag a meal. Cookie let out a contented sigh as she listened to the familiar sound of the birds’ cries. She couldn’t imagine how she’d ever lived without it every day. When Cookie thought about how the DeMasi mob might take this new life of hers away, a knot formed in her stomach, and anger began to boil in her veins as she had a moment of self-pity. It’s not fair!

  Cookie quickly pushed her selfish thoughts aside. Didn’t she have more important things to worry about? Like the fact she’d brought danger into her mother’s life? If something happened to Rain because of Cookie’s job, she wasn’t sure how she’d live with herself.

  “Would you look at that?” Dylan said, pulling Cookie out of her thoughts. “Today must be the day for fancy rides. How much you wanna bet there’s a vanity plate on that one too?”

  Ahead of them, parked in front of the Clip, Dip, and Rip, was a shiny red Porsche. And as they got closer, they did indeed find it had a vanity plate that read $$$$$$.

  Cookie chuckled. “Suspect number two.”

  8

  Dylan tugged on the door to the Clip, Dip, and Rip and held it open for Cookie. Once they got inside, Peaches, the resident esthetician let out a squeal when she saw them, “Well it’s about time you two came in for the couple’s wax. You know,” she said as she stepped up closer to Dylan and eyed him before returning her gaze to Cookie, “if you book extra time—”

  “I got it,” Cookie said as she held up her hand. Peaches was sweet, but Cookie didn’t want to know what she was suggesting. “We’re here to talk to Alex Balboni.” Cookie glanced over Peaches’ shoulder and noted the older woman sitting in Mindy’s chair. It had to be Alex. Squares of tinfoil were sticking out of her head at odd angles, which made Cookie assume Alex was getting highlights. Dylan tilted his head though, a look of confusion on his face. He clearly wasn’t in tune with what women did to their hair.

  “Oh,” Peaches said before she let out a heavy sigh. “She’s over there.” She pointed to the woman Cookie had already identified as Alex.

  “Well if it isn’t Law and Order, Secret Seal Isle Unit,” Mindy, the hairdresser, said as they approached her. She was not a fan of Cookie’s, especially now that Cookie has taken one of the most eligible bachelors on the island off the market.

  Cookie squinted her eyes at Mindy’s snarky tone but ignored her as she gave her attention to Alex. “Are you Alex Balboni?”

  “I sure am.” She chuckled. “Please forgive my appearance.”

  Cookie smiled at her. “The things we do for beauty,” she said, even though Cookie’s personal routine wasn’t much more than washing her face, applying moisturizer and a light coating of mascara, and air drying her hair to avoid frizz. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions? We’re investigating a murder.”

  “Oh, the one at the parade? My gosh, you were the poor dear who found him, weren’t you?”

  “We both did,” Cookie said as she nodded her head in Dylan’s direction.

  “Any idea who it was?” Alex asked.

  “We’re still working on that.” Since Cookie knew the bookkeeper was former mob, she had no intention of sharing the information that a man she likely knew was the victim. Yet. She wanted to keep that detail in her back pocket in case she needed to use it later. Cookie asked, “Were you at the parade?”

  “I sure was,” Alex laughed. “Two floats behind you. I saw—”

  “Things that you can never unsee?” Dylan asked.

  Cookie smiled since she was sure Alex was referring to the Pussycat Posse’s show too. But Alex was a clever woman, because she looked at Cookie to judge her reaction before she said more, and then she opted for something that couldn’t offend. “I saw a group of people having the time of their lives.”

  She’s good, Cookie thought. She would bet that Alex was an asset the mob likely missed. “We talked to Bernie at the Tipsy Seagull,” Cookie said. “And I get the impression you pretty much run the place.”

  Alex nodded. “That’s a fair assessment. He sure loves that boat of his. But I don’t mind. It pays the bills.”

  “Handsomely, it seems,” Dylan said. When Alex frowned he added, “That’s your Porsche out front. Right?”

  “Oh. Yes. I got it used for a song. Some guy was getting divorced and you know how that goes. Probably trying to hide he even owned it.”

  “Oh, I know all about that!” Mindy exclaimed. Amazingly, she’d managed to stay out of the discussion for far longer than Cookie thought possible. “You probably don’t know him, but Everett Pruit tried to hide his boat from Tracy. A boat! Like she didn’t know he owned the thing.”

  Dylan cleared his throat loudly, and Mindy glared at him. She said, “Men are so stupid sometimes.”

  “Don’t worry about her,” Peaches said, her tone full of judgment. “She’s just jealous because the only men talking dirty to her since she broke up with Rand are her handful of prison boyfriends from the New York Federal Penitentiary.”

  “Prison boyfriends?” Cookie asked, her agent instincts kicking into high gear.

  “They’re just pen pals,” Mindy said with a huff. “She glanced at Alex and added, “I’ll be back in a minute. Need to grab some more foil.”

  Once Mindy disappeared through a door leading to the back, Cookie turned to Peaches with her eyebrows raised. “Do those inmates know where she lives?”

  Peaches shrugged one shoulder. “Not sure, but I’d imagine so. Mindy isn’t great about keeping a low profile, if you know what I mean. That girl puts all her business out on Facebook. Last week she saw fit to inform everyone it’s been four months since she’d had her last org—” She glanced at Alex and cleared her throat. “Um, the last time a man made her toes curl… so to speak.”

  Alex laughed. “No need to draw us a map, sweetheart.”

  Cookie blinked, then cleared her throat. It was definitely time to get the conversation back on track. “Alex, I assume you organized the float for the Tipsy Seagull in the parade.”

  “I did. Did you see it?”

  Cookie did remember the float, because it was appropriate for the bar. One of the employees was dressed like a seagull in gray spray-painted bubble wrap with a cardboard hat that looked like a beak. He swayed on the float as if he was drunk. And he might have been since the seagull was also sipping something out of a paper bag. “I did. Was the drunk seagull your idea?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Very clever.” And so are you, thought Cookie. But not clever enough, because it occurred to her that a while back Dylan
had mentioned the bar was merely scraping by. Cookie had to wonder if that had something to do with the bookkeeper who just so happened to have a past career in embezzling.

  “So you were at the dump for the supply sweep,” Dylan said.

  “I was,” Alex said. “But I don’t recall seeing anything suspicious. It was pretty crazy with everyone trying to grab what they wanted. Did you know people even had maps? It’s unbelievable what the residents in this town will do to win a title.” She laughed.

  Cookie and Dylan laughed with her, because they both had been those people with the maps Rain had given them. And Cookie had to admit both she and Dylan had wanted the inn to win the Best Costume title.

  As Cookie watched Alex wipe tears out of her eyes, she was impressed. The woman was unflappable. Not only did she answer the questions as if she had never been interrogated before, but she joked around, apparently not the least bit nervous that her finances might be questioned. Perhaps Alex was the kind of woman who thought she was the smartest person in the room.

  That made Cookie smile. Because a narcissist was always easy to trip up if you knew how to play their game. And Cookie did. It was time to cut the interview short. She and Dylan needed to get their hands on the Tipsy Seagull’s books before the color in Alex’s hair could set and Alex had time to grab them herself.

  9

  Once Cookie and Dylan stepped out of the salon she said, “We need to get to the Tipsy Seagull and get the books right now.”

  “Agreed,” Dylan said. “I’m not sure if Alex is a killer but she couldn’t have paid for that Porsche with the salary she makes at the Tipsy Seagull. Although, I suppose she could have had it before she moved here.”

  “No way. She would have had to turn over mob money as part of her agreement, and chances are she was wiped out,” Cookie said as she walked briskly toward the bar.

  “So you really think she took the money from the Tipsy Seagull to pay for the car?”

  “I don’t think that leopard has changed her spots.” Cookie leapt over a pothole and her foot thudded when she landed. “Alex said she thought the guy she bought it from was trying to hide he owned it. To do that, she’d have to pay cash. And even used, a Porsche requires a fair amount of Benjamins.”

  “It sure does,” Dylan said as they pushed their way into the bar. Neither of them gave Coon, the barkeep, a glance. He didn’t seem to notice as they walked by.

  When they got to the office again and Bernie answered their knock, Cookie took charge. “Bernie. We need your cooperation with a delicate matter.”

  “Sure.” His gaze went back and forth between Cookie and Dylan. “What’s up?”

  Dylan said, “We’d like to take a look at your books if you don’t mind. We don’t want to jump the gun or anything, but we have reason to suspect Alex may be skimming off the top, and we’d really like to make sure she’s not taking advantage of you.”

  “Jeez. Are ya sure?” He raked his hand through his hair. “Wow. Um.” He glanced around the room in confusion.

  “The financials are probably on her computer in her office,” Cookie said.

  “Right.” His expression relaxed. “She sends me a report once a month. Would that work?”

  “We would like to see that,” Cookie said. “But we also need access to her computer too.”

  “Is she gone for the day?” Dylan asked.

  “Yeah.” Bernie ran a hand over his short gray hair again.

  “Then would you mind if we just took her laptop and got it back to you in the morning before she gets in?” Dylan’s expression softened. “It’d be easier that way, and she’d never have to know. I’d sure hate for you to have an awkward situation if we’re wrong.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Alex’s door clicked open when Bernie turned the knob. “Help yourself. I’ll get you a key.”

  When Bernie stepped into his office, Cookie whispered to Dylan. “Smart move.” Getting Bernie’s permission to search a company owned computer meant they didn’t need a warrant.

  He grinned at her. “I do have a few moves you haven’t seen yet.”

  She chuckled as she unplugged the power cord to Alex’s laptop. When Bernie brought them a key and told them it was for the back door, Cookie asked, “Are you fishing tomorrow?”

  “I’d planned on it, but I can stay on land if need be.” He sighed. “I can’t believe it. Alex. Just goes to show you never know about people. She’s so nice.”

  “I know,” Cookie said sympathetically. She knew how awful it felt to trust people who ended up screwing you over. “But the criminals who are good at what they do have it down. Please don’t let this make you feel like a fool. You’re anything but.”

  “Yeah.” Bernie said with a sad voice.

  “Going out on the water tomorrow is a good idea,” Dylan said. “It might be wise for you to leave now for the day too. Just in case Alex comes back.”

  “She dangerous?”

  Cookie shook her head. She didn’t want to alarm Bernie, but she wasn’t going to sugarcoat the danger so much that he wouldn’t take things seriously. “You never know what someone who feels trapped will do. We’d rather you be safe than sorry.”

  “Makes sense,” Bernie said. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Bernie took them down a back staircase that Cookie made a note of so they could utilize it early the next morning. After they left the bar with Alex’s laptop, Cookie and Dylan headed back to the inn.

  The spring air was crisp, but it was perfect to cuddle with a handsome boyfriend and a cup of hot chocolate on the porch along with whatever tasty sweet Rain had baked that day. Except in this case there wasn’t going to be any cuddling. Dylan was going to be hacking into Alex’s computer so Cookie could send the financials to a forensic accountant she knew in Philly.

  As they approached the inn, Cookie asked, “So, what do you think about Mindy and her prison boyfriends? What if Simon was one of her pen pals and came for Mindy? Something could’ve gone terribly wrong and she killed him in the process.”

  “Maybe,” Dylan said, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “But just knowing she’s been writing to men in prison doesn’t give us much to go on. And considering her animosity toward us today, I’m guessing she isn’t going to be forthcoming with much information if we question her.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Cookie said. “It’s why I didn’t pursue the lead while we were there. First, we need to find out who she was writing to, then we can go from there.”

  “You could put Rain on it,” he said with a wry smile.

  Cookie nodded. “True. With her connections, I bet we’d have answers within hours.” She paused, holding on to the porch railing. “And what about Alex? While I believe we’re going to find she was embezzling, her mob connection makes me wonder if she killed Simon.”

  “I don’t know. She seemed awfully comfortable talking to us. She sure didn’t act like she was guilty.”

  “Yet we’re pretty sure she’s embezzling,” Cookie said. “She’s smart, and I bet she’s had lots of practice lying.”

  “True. I suppose to get away from the mob you’d have to be.” Dylan looked at Cookie with a serious expression. “Like you did.”

  She let out a dry chuckle. “I’m not sure how smart I am these days.” Cookie thought about how she’d gotten up in front of the town with June Loon a while back and let cameras film her before she realized what she’d done. While the film was confiscated, it didn’t negate the fact Cookie had been stupid not laying low like she was supposed to. She’d gotten awfully comfortable on Secret Seal Isle, and just like criminals who eventually got tripped up when they forgot to be on their guard, Cookie was just as guilty. She may have played right into the mob’s grubby fists. She said, “Simon came to the island for a reason, and it could be me.”

  “We don’t know that yet,” Dylan said as he put an arm around her shoulders. “But we’re going to find out why he ended up here, no matter the reason. You hear me? And then we’re going to do whatever i
t takes to keep you safe, Cookie James. You and Rain.”

  Cookie leaned into the strong chest of the man she’d fallen for. She loved that Dylan wanted to keep her safe like a knight in shining armor, whisking her away on his white horse. She wished for a moment she could put her life in some man’s hands and believe that he could keep her safe from whatever evils they might face. But Cookie had never been that kind of girl, and it’s why she was so good at being an FBI agent. It was also why she wasn’t going to rest easy until they figured out who killed Simon, why he was killed, and what he had come to the island for in the first place.

  She slipped an arm around Dylan’s waist. “Thanks,” she said. While she wasn’t going to leave the dirty work for him to do alone, Cookie was glad Dylan was by her side. She stopped walking and gazed up at him. “I’m a lucky girl to have you, Dylan Creed.”

  He gave her a slow, easy smile, and it made Cookie think about how he’d done the same thing when they’d first met. It was the kind of smile that felt like the ease of sipping lemonade on a porch on a hot summer day, or the way a gentle ocean breeze felt blowing through Cookie’s hair in the fall with the slight chill of winter on its way. And when Dylan leaned down to kiss her, Cookie felt the emotions of love and security one feels when they’ve come home after a long journey.

  When they broke apart and began to walk again, Cookie realized that’s exactly what being with Dylan was. Coming home. She’d spent a good portion of her life proving she was worthy. As a woman, she’d had to work harder at Quantico than most men, and then as a new agent she knew her good looks meant she wasn’t taken seriously at first glance. But from the moment she met Dylan, she hadn’t had to do anything more than be herself to prove she was worthy. He saw her for who she was.

  Cookie had found something she’d hadn’t known she was searching for when she fell for Dylan. And now that she had it, she wasn’t going to let DeMasi take that away. She picked up the pace as they approached the inn and said, “I’ll make the hot chocolate and you get hacking.”