Highway to Homicide

by Lucy Quinn

  Still reeling from the call, Cookie reached for the coffee and poured herself a mug. Then she just sat at the counter, stuffing chocolate chip cookies in her mouth as she made plans.

  She glanced around the kitchen that Rain had transformed from a place that needed updating badly to a warm cozy space that welcomed guests and family alike. She knew her mother would struggle with their new reality, because the minute Rain was set free, they needed to get out of town. And Cookie would need to pack for Rain, making it clear there wasn’t any room for debate.

  Cookie’s throat thickened with the urge to cry. While she was taking the love of her life along, and Rain likely would take Hale, too, this was their home, and meant so much to both of them. It wasn’t just an inn, it was the place where they’d finally formed the mother-daughter relationship they’d never had before.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Scarlett said as she breezed into the kitchen. “What are you doing in here all by yourself?”

  Cookie looked up from her mug but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t seem to get her mouth to work.

  “Cookie?” Scarlett asked, her face pinched with concern. “What happened? What’s going on? You’re so white you look like you’re going to pass out.”

  “DeMasi,” she whispered. “There’s a good chance they know we’re here.”

  Scarlett frowned. “Oh, no! Why do you think that?”

  Cookie filled her in on the Raincam and the fact that Hank was mobbed up with a rival organization. “Even if they don’t know I’m here yet, there’s a good chance this island is about to be the center of a mob war, and it’s only a matter of time. Rain and I have to get out of here.”

  “But Rain’s locked up,” Scarlett said, stating the obvious.

  “Hunter’s coming. He’s getting her out.”

  Scarlett’s expression didn’t change when she clarified, “He’s coming here?”

  Cookie nodded. “FBI jurisdiction.”

  Scarlett nodded. “Good. At least Rain will be free. I’ll stay here to take care of the inn and give you a good cover story.”

  “No. You can’t do that.” Cookie reached out to touch her best friend’s arm as concern filled her. “What if they take you instead?”

  “Why would they do that?” She shook her head. “If they were going to use me, they’d have come after me a long time ago. I’ll keep this place open, and Cade can keep an eye on me.”

  Not knowing what else to say or do, Cookie nodded. She figured Scarlett was probably right, and if she was in danger, Hunter would make sure to keep her safe. “Thanks, Scar. You’re the best.”

  Her friend threw her arms around Cookie and hugged her tight. “I love you. You know that, right?”

  Cookie blinked back the sting of tears and said, “I know. I love you more.”

  Chapter 25

  “I’ll go pack a bag,” Dylan said, pacing Cookie’s bedroom. It was the next morning and they were getting ready to leave town just as soon as Hunter sprung Rain from jail.

  “You don’t have to do that.” Cookie shoved a pile of T-shirts in her duffle. She looked at Dylan with intensity. “I’m serious. You do not have to give up your life here for me. I’ll have Rain, and I’ll be just fine.” She yanked a handful of underwear from her dresser.

  “Cookie.” He grabbed her by the wrists to stop her movements. “I wouldn’t be fine. At all. This is not open for discussion. As soon as Rain’s out, we’ll go. Maybe somewhere out west for a bit until Hunter gets everything cleared up.”

  She let Dylan pull her into his arms and inhaled the light woodsy scent of him that helped soothe her frazzled nerves. “I always did want to go to Washington State. I hear the Olympic Peninsula is gorgeous.”

  “Good. It’s settled then.” Dylan placed a kiss on her forehead before pulling away. “I’ll run home and be back in an hour.”

  Cookie nodded. “Okay. I’m going to pack Rain’s things.”

  Once Cookie finished packing herself she went down to Rain’s room to prepare a bag for her mother. While she did so, Hunter called to let her know the paperwork had come through to release Rain, but Loon was insisting someone come pick her up. Apparently, Rain had been ranting at Loon all morning about how she wasn’t going to leave without her personal items that now ranged from her mattress to her small expresso maker.

  Cookie pulled her phone out of her pocket to call Dylan as she wandered to the kitchen to grab snacks that would travel easily.

  “Hey,” she said when Dylan picked up. “Rain has been released. Can you meet me at the sheriff’s office?”

  “Sure,” Dylan said.

  “Bring your truck. Rain wants all of her cell belongings. Something about not wanting Loon to benefit from her extended stay in the jail.”

  “Of course she does,” Dylan chuckled. “See you soon.”

  With Hunter headed to the island to take over the case, her mother being freed, and Scarlett set to run the inn, the only thing left for Cookie to do was fill her purse with cash before flying the coop. Cookie took the stairs two at a time, all the way to the third floor and her private room. Her duffle was sitting in the middle of her bed, and the sight of it hit Cookie right in the gut.

  She’s come to love Secret Seal Isle. Leaving wasn’t something she’d ever planned to do, but she had no choice. They’d be back, though… she hoped. Crouching down, Cookie opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled out her metal lockbox. After unlocking it with the key she kept hidden under her nightstand drawer, she pulled the white envelope out and frowned. It was much thinner than she remembered.

  Cookie peeked inside the unsealed envelope and scowled when all she found was a few small bills and a pink Post-it instead of her stash of emergency cash. It read:

  I. O. U. Needed cash for a sequin run. Thx Pussycat Posse.

  It was dated four months ago.

  “Dang it, Rain. That must’ve been one heck of a sequin purchase,” Cookie muttered to herself, torn between chuckling at her mother’s antics and being seriously annoyed.

  After grabbing the remaining cash, she tossed the box back into the drawer, tucked her handgun into the back of her jeans, threw a light jacket on, and ran downstairs.

  “I’ll be right back!” she called to Scarlett and headed out to the truck. Normally she’d just walk to the ATM, but she wanted the safety of a fast moving-vehicle if she was being followed.

  The ATM was at the Community Bank on Main Street. When she parked in front of it, she took notice of the colorful pot of flowers set by the lamppost, and sadness washed over her. She was going to miss the little welcoming things about Secret Seal Isle. And the people. She had to admit most of the folks in her town, quirks and all, had won a special place in her heart, and once she was gone there would be a huge hole where they fit.

  Money whirled out of the ATM machine when Cookie withdrew the maximum amount allowed from her account. She turned to walk back to her truck when she spotted a short, thick-necked man peering in her vehicle’s window only twenty feet away.

  Fear prickled the back of her neck when she recognized him. Jimmy DeMasi! She’d know him anywhere. She dipped her head before he could see her face, and then her flight reflex kicked in. She bolted into the Clip, Dip, and Rip, praying he hadn’t recognized her.

  Mindy was in her salon chair filing her nails and Cookie said, “I need your help.” The woman’s eyes widened in surprise. “There is a man who wants me dead right outside. I need to hide.”

  “Oh. Oh!” Mindy hopped up out of her chair to point toward the window.

  Cookie turned to see Jimmy steps away from the door and definitely headed their way.

  Mindy said, “Waxing room.”

  Cookie rushed over and let herself into Peaches’ domain. She quickly put her finger to her lips when she saw the shocked face of the esthetician and noticed a male client on the table. As luck would have it, Blake was the customer laying with his chest exposed, and Cookie let out a sigh of relief. “I need to hide,” she said.
“There’s a man in town who wants kill me.”

  “Me too,” Blake said. “Nancy Feingold heard about my taste in underthings and told her hus—”

  “Blake!” Cookie hissed as loudly as she dared. “I’m serious.”

  Just then, her phone started to buzz. “Ugh!” Cookie pulled it out of her pocket, but before she could silence it, the thing flew out of her hand and hit the floor with a thud. She scrambled to pick it up and scowled when she saw the cracked face. She pushed the button, trying to get it to light up and nothing happened. Perfect. Not only was Jimmy DeMasi after her, but she’d just killed her phone.

  Mindy’s voice rang out loud and clear from the other room as she said, “Well, hello there! How can I help you today? Oh my, are those prison tattoos?” She giggled like a school girl, making Cookie recall the woman’s previous attraction to convicts.

  Cookie pressed her ear against the door to catch Jimmy’s reply. Her action wasn’t necessary though, because he embraced his Italian heritage and spoke just as loudly as Mindy had. “I’m lookin’ for the woman who just came in.”

  “Oh. I just remembered!” Mindy said with excitement. “Today is free haircut day. Have a seat.”

  “I don’t want no haircut. Where’s the woman?”

  “Well. I—”

  Footsteps that were likely Jimmy’s thumped toward. There was a loud thud against the door as Mindy blocked it and said, “Sir. You can’t go in there.”

  “Wanna bet,” Jimmy growled out.

  Peaches quickly clicked the lock on the door. “She’s right!” she called out. “I’m doing a—a manzilian!” Peaches glanced around the room as she said, “Balls in the air… Balls to the wall.” She looked at Cookie in desperation. “Those suckers are everywhere if you know what I mean.”

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t a window or a closet in the room. The doorknob rattled violently as Jimmy grumbled. “Don’t make me shoot this open.”

  Mindy let out a gasp. “Oh, my god! He will!”

  Cookie was just about to dive under the client table when Peaches shoved her into a chair and draped a cloth over her face. A moment later something heavy like a blanket landed on her chest, and Cookie grabbed it to spread it over her body.

  “For the love of Pete!” Peaches exclaimed and unlocked the door. “I don’t know who you think you are, but my two male clients here deserve their privacy.”

  Cookie realized her ample chest, even under the cover of a blanket, would give her gender away. She crossed her arms over her breasts to flatten them as much as she could.

  The door swung open and banged on the wall, and Cookie heard Jimmy’s feet shuffle over the vinyl floor. “As you can see,” Peaches said, “Blake here is mid-wax and Hale over there is letting steam open up his pores.” She lowered her voice as if only Jimmy could hear. “His eyebrows need some serious work. And you should see the hair coming out of his ears.”

  “Hmpf,” Jimmy said. “Where did she go?”

  Mindy let out a squeak, making Cookie assume Jimmy had asked her. She wanted to kiss Mindy for her quick thinking when the woman replied, “Out the back door, I expect. People like to use it as a shortcut.”

  The pounding of feet made Cookie think Jimmy had bought Mindy’s explanation, and after a few moments, Mindy said, “Coast is clear.”

  Cookie sat up and removed the wet cloth from her face as she let out a long breath of air.

  “Who was that?” Peaches asked.

  “Jimmy DeMasi. A man from my past.”

  “Those were mob tattoos he had,” Mindy said. She frowned with worry. “Does he want to outfit you with cement shoes?” She gasped and put a hand over her mouth. “Sell you to sex traders?”

  “The first one,” Cookie said.

  “Oh.” Mindy twisted her hands together in distress. “Did I do okay?”

  “You were brilliant, Mindy. You just saved my life.” It was true, and the reality tightened around Cookie’s lungs like an iron fist. She walked over to give the woman a hug. While physical affection was not something Cookie usually doled out, her heart had swelled from the way Mindy and Peaches had protected her. “You were really great.” She turned to look at Peaches. “Both of you. Thank you so much.”

  “Oh, gosh,” Mindy said. “I was so scared. I may have peed my pants a little.”

  “So that’s what the smell is,” Peaches said. She and Mindy had a bit of a prickly relationship. “It’s a good thing that guy didn’t pull a gun on me.” She picked up a wooden paddle and slapped it into her palm. “Because I’ve got a pot of hot wax and I know how to use it.” She chuckled. “Just ask Hank.”

  Blake was sitting up and said, “I heard.” He looked at Cookie with concern. “Do you and Rain need to bug out of here now?”

  Cookie wanted to put his mind at rest and say that no, he wasn’t about to lose Rain, one of his best friends, but she couldn’t lie to him. “I’m afraid so.”

  He gave her a curt nod, and she thought his eyes were unusually glassy when he sat up a little taller and said, “Now, about that manzilian, Peaches. Is that a thing because—”

  Cookie interrupted him before the visual he was about to present imbedded itself into her brain. “I’m just going to stop you right there. But—” She had a sudden urge to hug Blake too and leaned over to wrap her arms around the man. “Thank you, Blake.”

  “Why, Cookie,” he said as he patted her on the back and sniffed. “You’re welcome, dear. Any time.”

  “Great, because I have a favor to ask. Do you think we could trade vehicles for today? I’m pretty sure Jimmy is watching my truck.”

  “Sure. My keys are in my pants.”

  Blake began to climb off the table when Peaches said, “Uh-uh, you. Sit right back down.” She winked at Cookie. “Let’s keep the mystery alive for a little longer, shall we? I’ll get them.”

  After Peaches retrieved Blake’s keys, she held them out toward Cookie. The two women paused for an awkward moment before Peaches said, “I’m not a hugger.”

  “Me either,” Cookie agreed.

  “Oh, what the hell.” Peaches pulled Cookie into an embrace. “Be safe and take care of Rain. You hear me?”

  Mindy had slipped out of the waxing room, and she returned with a paper shopping bag that had the salon logo on it in her hands. “Here.” Change rattled in the bag as she handed it to Cookie. “It’s from the Free Rain jar. I figure you two are going to need it.”

  Moisture fill Cookie’s eyes as she took the bag of money. Darn it, she thought, these people are making it really hard to leave Secret Seal Isle.

  Chapter 26

  Once Cookie left the Clip, Dip, and Rip, she headed toward the Salty Dog where Blake had parked his car for a cup of coffee before walking through town to the salon to get his manscaping done. She glanced in the window of an art gallery that had once belonged to Petra Peabody, a German woman who turned out to be involved in the art forgery business, one Cookie managed to uncover. It was now owned by the Hendersons, a sweet older couple who had moved to the island when Martha Henderson had retired from her job as an art teacher. Eugene, her husband, painted oil landscapes to sell while his wife ran the gallery. It was a big hit with the tourists since he painted boats, seagulls, and of course, as many different versions of a seal on a rock as he could think of.

  When Cookie returned her focus to the street, she noticed Jimmy stepping out from an alley. Her breath caught in her chest as she quickly entered the art gallery to be out of sight. She pretended to be checking out the window display so she could peer outside to see which direction he went.

  Jimmy turned her way just as Martha Henderson asked, “Cookie?” She leaned in close and whispered, “Rumor has it you’re on the run. From the mob.” She shuddered. “Horrible people.”

  Cookie blinked at her in surprise. “How? I—” She didn’t have time for questions and said, “Yes, and he’s headed this way.”

  “Mindy just called.” Her eyes were wide with what Cookie feared was exci
tement. The woman grabbed her hand with surprising strength. “Come with me.”

  Hopefully Mindy was calling Dylan, too, Cookie thought as Martha led her to a back room. She could use the help. On the way, she snatched the Free Rain jar from the checkout counter. They entered a room that appeared to have been used as both an office and a studio for decades, judging by the piles of paper on the desk. Numerous canvases were stacked against the walls, and the paint-splattered sink appeared to have layers of oils on it instead of ever having been cleaned. Of course, the Hendersons had been in town for less than two years, and Cookie found it amazing how messy a place could get in such a short time.

  “Eugene,” Martha said in a commanding voice that brought back high school memories to Cookie. A man poked his head out from behind an easel. Paint was streaked on the tattered t-shirt he was wearing, and a streak of blue was in his thick, white hair that was so unruly Cookie wondered if he’d brushed it in the last year. It seemed his sense of order applied to his appearance too. Martha said, “You need to get out in the gallery and pretend you have no idea who Cookie is or that she’s here.”

  “Cookie?” He tilted his head like a dog might when confused about its owner’s words.

  “Rain’s daughter.”

  Eugene smiled. “That woman. Such a dear. I didn’t know she had a daughter.”

  “She doesn’t. That’s what you need to remember.”

  He nodded, and Martha said, “Now scoot.”

  Eugene jumped up at her order the way Cookie suspected Martha’s students had done, and he scurried out to the gallery in fuzzy elephant slippers that made Cookie almost snort with laughter. She couldn’t have dreamed up a better flaky artist if she’d tried. Jimmy wasn’t going to get anything out of Eugene.

  “Now,” Martha said as she walked over to a corner of the room and reached into a pile of supplies to magically pull out a large canvas bag as if she was a magician. “I’ve just bought you some time.” She put the Free Rain jar in the bag and walked over to another pile before she reached in and lifted up a small hand gun. She held it up in the air and Cookie noticed her finger was beside the trigger like a seasoned pro would grip it. “Need weapons?”