by Lucy Quinn
“Lucky for you it only matters what I think,” she said, pressing up on her tiptoes. She stared into his glinting eyes and then kissed him.
17
It was early afternoon when Cookie and Dylan walked into the inn. The place was filled with the delicious aroma of chocolate, and Cookie’s stomach made an embarrassing growl that made Dylan laugh.
“It’s been a while since that cinnamon roll this morning, hasn’t it?” he asked, already making his way to the dining room. There was a complete spread of gourmet chocolates laid out on the table. He reached for something that appeared to be covered in toffee and popped it into his mouth. “Damn, that’s good.”
Cookie grabbed a milk chocolate-covered candy and bit into the yummy goodness. She closed her eyes as she savored the sweet peanut butter inside.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Rain asked, clapping her hands with glee. “That Henri is a genius.”
“Henri?” Cookie mumbled around her chocolate.
“He’s the new chocolatier in town. Didn’t you see his shop? Death by Chocolate. It’s right down the street from the sheriff’s office. Henri just opened last week, and I already told him to be wary of that awful June Loon. His masterpieces are way too good for the likes of her.”
“Rain.” A woman chuckled as she strolled in from the living room. Judging by the laugh lines around her kind eyes and her gray roots, the woman appeared to be in her late fifties. She wore crop pants, a loose blouse, and had a sun hat in one hand. There was no mistaking that she was a summer tourist. “You really don’t like her, do you?”
“Adele,” a slip of a man with thinning hair chastised as he joined them in the dining room. “She already told us June keeps going after her man.”
“Yes. That’s right.” Adele smiled at Cookie and Dylan. “Milton never forgets a thing. Not only does he have a photographic memory, but he’s got an ear that records everything. It’s like having my own encyclopedia.”
“Remind me never to play trivial pursuit with you,” Cookie said as Dylan chuckled.
“Adele,” Milton admonished as his face turned bright pink. “You know that always embarrasses me.”
She patted his arm. “Would you rather I tell people about how you can’t find your way out of a paper bag or have the common sense of a moth flying into a flame?”
“That’s not… I don’t…” Milton sputtered.
Rain interjected before an argument could break out. She said, “You two are on vacation! And that means being happy. Enjoying yourself.” She lowered her voice and winked. “Or each other, and I just remembered my friend Winter has some new CBD oils. Have either of you tried those yet?”
Adele blinked at Rain in confusion while Milton said in a hushed tone, “That’s made from marijuana.”
“Yes, it comes from the cannabis or hemp plant,” Rain confirmed. “But don’t worry. You can get it without THC… though I’m not sure why anyone would want to,” she added with a giggle.
Adele gave Rain a shy smile as if she was intrigued while Milton frowned as if he wasn’t the least bit interested.
“Mom,” Cookie warned. “These are guests.”
“Pshaw,” Rain said with a wave of her hand. “You know marijuana is legal in Maine now, right, my lovely daughter?”
“It’s still a federal crime,” Cookie said under her breath.
“Don’t worry about her,” Rain said conspiratorially to Adele. “She’s just uptight. I’m still happy to hook you up.”
Adele smiled and held up her finger and thumb. “Maybe we could try just a smidge?”
Milton stiffened. “We will not, Adele. I don’t think ganga, medicinal or not, is what we need to enjoy our vacation.”
“Humpf.” Adele placed her hands on her hips and glared at her husband. “Because we need a condo that isn’t even being built yet instead?”
“The condos!” Rain exclaimed in an effort to stop Adele and Milton from bickering again. “Cookie, have you heard anything about some condos over in the artist colony?”
Cookie frowned. “Condos? No.” She glanced at Dylan. “Have you heard anything about this?”
He shook his head. “Not a word. That’s something that should’ve come up at a town hall meeting.”
“I’ve been to every single one since we moved here. There’s never been any mention of any condos.” Rain’s face started to turn red with anger as she continued. “Adele and Milton here bought one this spring. Said they’re timeshares that will be used as short-term rentals when the owners aren’t using them.” She huffed as her anger increased. “Do you know what this will do to our business?”
Cookie’s mouth went dry. If there were going to have timeshares as their competition, Rain had every reason to be worried. Without paying guests, they’d never be able to keep up with their bills. Maybe it was a sign that they really should leave Secret Seal Isle. With the mob possibly on her tail, Cookie was starting to think it was going to be their only option. She gazed at Dylan’s profile, and her heart sank. How was she ever going to find the courage to leave him? She’d heard him when he’d said he’d go with her, but she still couldn’t see uprooting him for a life of uncertainty.
“I can’t believe I don’t already know about this,” Rain fussed as she rearranged a tray of chocolate-covered marshmallows. “You know that Julie at the Historical Society?” She glanced around the room with wild eyes. “I bet she knew about the condos and purposely kept it from us out of spite.”
“Why’s that, Mother?” Cookie asked, wondering how long it would take to sell the inn. They’d need the equity to settle somewhere else. She supposed they have to market it as something other than an inn though because of the condos.
“She’s jealous of me,” Rain said indignantly. “You know how great I look in that pussycat costume. I caught her eyeing me last week. She was positively green with envy.”
“You have a pussycat costume?” Adele asked. Her eyes lit up like a fan girl, and Cookie began to think she was an admirer of Rain when Adele gushed, “Oh my gosh. I’d love to see you in it. Your figure is perfect for that kind of outfit. Are you—Milton what’s that thing when people dress up as their favorite characters?”
“Cosplaying,” he said with authority.
Rain straightened, finally leaving the chocolates alone and puffed her chest out a little. “I’m not cosplaying,”
“Mom, you kind of are,” Cookie said.
“Hush. I’m in a band. The Pussycat Posse.”
“Are you?” Adele let out a squeal and turned to Milton. “Isn’t Rain something else?” The woman returned her gaze to Rain. “We simply must see you perform.”
“Of course,” Rain said. “We’re having a jam session later if you’d like to watch, but—” Rain’s expression fell. “Of course if your condos are going to put us out of business, who knows how long the posse will stay together without me.” Her voice cracked on the word ‘posse’ and Rain dabbed at her eyes to dry her sudden tears.
“Oh dear.” Adele turned to her husband. “Now see what that harebrained condo idea’s done? It’s going to make these poor people homeless.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Milton threw his hands up. “They haven’t even broken ground yet. How can the condos put them out of business? At this rate, they won’t be done for another two years!”
“The entire reason we’re here right now is because we wanted to see where we’re going to be spending our vacations from now on,” Adele explained. “The developer said they’d be completed by this September, but when we went to take a look at the site, we found they hadn’t even broken ground. The area doesn’t have utilities or plumbing markers either. Nothing you’d expect from a new construction site.”
“Very disappointing,” Milton said.
“He’s right,” Adele said. “It’s clear they haven’t started. With winter thrown in, we’ll be lucky if the project is complete within two years. Now I have no idea where we’re going to go next summer. Maybe we’ll
come right back here to this inn.”
“Well that’s something at least,” Rain said dramatically. “Cookie, we have two years to make this inn a must-visit destination spot.”
Cookie nodded, more to placate her mother than anything else. No sense in trying to talk her down, even if she could already imagine the crazy ideas Rain might have to make them a must-visit inn. Rain would do what Rain was going to do no matter what Cookie said. She’d learned that the hard way more than once. Besides, she was more concerned about the real-estate development that was supposed to come to the island. “It’s very strange that none of us knew about these condos,” Cookie said.
“I’m telling you,” Rain said, her hands on her hips again. “It’s Julie. The woman has more secrets than the United States government.”
Dylan took a seat next to Milton, who had sat down to sample the chocolates, and he cleared his throat to ask the man, “How is it you heard about these condos?”
Milton’s face reddened again.
Adele huffed. “Remember that common sense he doesn’t have? I told him it was too good to be true.”
“Adele,” her husband warned. “Not now.”
“He found an ad in the back of one of those body-building magazines he keeps subscribing to,” Adele blurted out. “Don’t ask me why he keeps paying for those things. Does this man look like he can bench a hundred and fifty pounds?”
Cookie eyed Milton’s undefined bicep muscles and thin frame and seriously doubted he could bench more than fifty pounds, but she kept her opinion to herself.
Milton sucked in a sharp breath. “I do have a weight room, you know. Where do you think I got all this muscle tone?” he pulled up his pant leg, revealing a tanned, muscular and hairless calf.
“From all that biking you do. Especially since every trip you set out on becomes twice as far when you get lost and have to call me to pick you up.” She leaned over to Rain and said, “He was fifty miles away the last time and still refuses to get a GPS.”
Rain glanced down at Milton’s leg and then gave him an approving smile. “Nice muscle tone for sure. And smooth as a baby’s bottom. Wax or razor?”
“Razor. It helps with road rash in case I fall.”
Rain nodded. “I bet you’re real popular with the ladies down at the bingo hall.”
He scoffed. “I don’t bingo. I swim.”
“Speedo?” Rain asked, waggling her eyebrows at him.
“I used to have one. Adele tossed it. Said she didn’t think I should be strutting around in a banana hammock.”
Dylan let out a burst of laughter while Cookie chuckled.
Rain shook her head at Adele. “You should really embrace the speedo and the manscaping. And with a fit man like Milton… Well, it would sure spice things up in the bedroom.”
Adele blinked in shock as her cheeks flushed red. And Milton’s lips twitched into a whisper of a smile. Either because it was about time Adele was embarrassed or because he had a few bedroom ideas himself. Cookie didn’t want to know.
“So,” Adele said in a quiet voice. “Your man waxes his body?”
A slow smile curved Rain’s lips as she nodded. “He just got a fresh wax today. I can’t wait to get my hands on him. I picked up this new lube—”
“I think we’ve heard enough about your bedroom plans, Mom,” Cookie said. Then she turned to Milton in an effort to move to a more suitable subject. “You wouldn’t happen to still have that ad, would you? The one from the back of the muscle magazine?”
He shook his head. “No, but I have the number I called.” Milton lifted up a hip and tugged a wallet out of his pocket. He fumbled around in it and pulled out a piece of paper. It had a phone number along with the name Big Guy on it.
“Big Guy?” Cookie asked, turning her attention to Dylan as she showed him the paper.
“Do you know who he is?” Milton asked. “Because I’d really like to give him a piece of my mind.”
“I’m fairly positive it’s the manager of the island’s gym,” Cookie said, scribbling down the number. She immediately pulled out her phone and dialed.
“The number is out of order,” Milton said, sounding dejected. “We tried calling today after we saw the condo site.”
Sure enough, a message indicating that the number was no longer in service filtered through the line. “When’s the last time you spoke with Big Guy?” she asked Milton.
“Last month when he took our deposit,” he said scowling. “We spent a good chunk of our savings on the down payment.” He stood and glanced over at Adele and let out a heavy sigh. “I know I don’t always make the best decisions. I’m so sorry, my love. I was just trying to get you that ocean front property you’ve always wanted.” He reached his hand out to her with a sad smile. “Remember how we used to talk about growing old together in a cottage by the sea?”
The woman’s expression softened, and she stepped toward her husband to put her hand in his. “And the hammock. We were going to get a hammock. Oh, Milton,” she wailed and flung her arms around him. “You’re such a sweet man. I know your heart was in the right place.”
Cookie stared at the older couple, who moments ago couldn’t stop bickering. But apparently, they really loved each other, and she felt a deep-seated need to take down ‘Big Guy’ for ripping them off. She knew just where to start. Considering Simon Gallo had been a convicted real-estate con man, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think Keith had dealings with him. “Dylan?” she asked. “You ready?”
“Yep.” He grabbed another chocolate-covered caramel and got to his feet. “Lead the way.”
“Where are you going?” Rain asked as she followed them to the door.
“To see what we can find out about this timeshare situation. We’ll be back,” Cookie said as she stepped out onto the porch with Dylan right behind her.
“Give ‘em hell!” Rain yelled after them. “This island isn’t big enough for any short-term rental condos!”
“I’m on it,” Cookie called back. Move over Alex and Mindy, Big Guy just topped the suspect list.
18
Once Cookie and Dylan were out of the inn, Cookie asked, “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Hayley Holloway about Keith’s claim of being her personal trainer yet?”
“Not sure. But my money’s on a big fat no.” He pulled his phone out and checked his messages. “Well what do you know?” He smiled at Cookie and lifted his phone to his ear. After he listened to Hayley’s voicemail he shook his head. “Complete lie. Hayley’s never heard of him.”
Cookie set her jaw in determination. Keith may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but Dylan and Cookie’s visit before had tipped him off that he was in their sights. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was already working on an exit plan with all the money he’d gathered from unsuspecting people like Milton and Adele.
The plastic of a zip tie was smooth in her fingers as she retrieved it from her pocket and held it out to Dylan. “We may need to move fast.”
Dylan’s brow knit. “Jeez. Those pockets of yours are a complete crime kit.”
Cookie frowned too. It’s not like protective gloves, zip ties and plastic bags took up a lot of room. But then she supposed he was used to Daisy, who probably carried a purse with a brush, lipstick and a few other feminine items. She shrugged. “I like to be prepared.”
Dylan chuckled. “I can’t wait to see what you carry when you have children.”
Children? Cookie stumbled as she tripped over a non-existent crack in the sidewalk. How did they get from thinking long-term to children already? Did Dylan want a big family? Warmth filled her heart when Dylan said, “Whoa,” and grabbed her elbow to steady her. But then the age-old bias she had when it came to men doused her with cold water. What did he think she was going to do with her career—
“Cookie?”
“Huh?” She shook her head. She didn’t have a career. She was a former FBI agent, emphasis on the former, running around an island playing deputy sheriff. An island that m
ight not be her home much longer since the man who’s murder they were investigating may or may not have been involved in a real estate scam but could have also come to kill her.
Dylan stopped them in their tracks. “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong? Tears pricked at her eyes. What was wrong was that she was standing across from a man she was head-over-heels in love with, and he just told her in a roundabout way that he planned on them having children. But Cookie might not be around to see that day because of a past that was catching up to her.
Cookie swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. FBI agents do not cry. The steel backbone she had honed over her years with the bureau returned. This was no time for wallowing. “Nothing. You cuff Keith, and I’ll read him his rights.”
“Oookay,” Dylan drew out, but he didn’t press for more when Cookie resumed walking with a bit of stomp in her step. By the time they got to the gym Cookie was all business, and she pushed her way through the door with Dylan on her heels.
“Can you believe this?” wailed the pretty receptionist the moment she saw them. Her long nails were jet-black against the white papers she slammed down on the desk. She grabbed a chunk of her hair and held it out. “See this? This is hours of straightening. And this?” she asked as she waved her hand around her face, which was slathered in makeup. “It takes years of practice to create this face.” She arched her back, stuck out her bottom and slid her hand seductively along an impressively-large butt cheek. “Kim Kardashian should be so lucky. I’ve got plans for this body, and it’s not running a gym.”
Dylan and Cookie exchanged a glance, both hoping they weren’t too late. Cookie asked, “Is Keith around?”
The girl let out a huff. “Loser’s packing up his office and hightailing it out of here. I can’t believe he’s dumping this place on me.” She lifted her hand to cover her finger as she pointed toward Mrs. V. walking on a treadmill. The girl whispered, “He probably had an affair with grandma and is running off with her money.”