by Lucy Quinn
Signed, Sealed, Fatal, I’m Yours
Lucy Quinn
Seaside Story Productions
Copyright © 2016 by Lucy Quinn
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Lewellen Designs
Editing by Red Adept Publishing and Angie Ramey
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Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
About This Book
After making her choice between Dylan and Hunter, Cookie James’ love life is finally in order. And now she’s ready to enjoy a little girl time. A bonfire on the beach seems like the perfect outing… until her mother Rain heads off for an outhouse break and finds a dead body instead. When Cookie calls Hunter for help, she finds herself in the middle of another murder investigation and the two men in her life. This time she has her hands full, dealing with a budding relationship, a cranky ex-partner, and a crime involving an old pirate treasure. Even more so when the stakes are raised and someone close to her is kidnapped. With everything on the line, Cookie has to solve the murder and make sure everyone else makes it out alive.
1
“Ah,” Cookie James said with a deep sigh, warming her half-frozen hands near the crackling flames of the bonfire. “I needed this.”
“You needed this?” Her best friend, Scarlett Quinn, playfully hip-checked her as they both perched on an old wind-stripped tree trunk on the beach. “Unless I’m misremembering, you’ve got a certain, very-hot someone eagerly awaiting your call. So I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re doing out here with us instead.” She waved her hand at the two women sitting across from them, Cookie’s mother Rain and her best friend Winter.
The chatter and giggling from the other side of the fire ceased, and both women glanced up.
“Oh, she’s right, sweetie,” Rain assured Cookie with a huge grin. “You know if I had a choice between being out here with you girls or holed up somewhere with the likes of Dylan Creed, well… I love you all, you know that, but—” She shrugged. “That man is so hot he’s scalding. If you ask me, you’d better jump all over that and brand the heck out of it before someone else gets any clever ideas.”
“Gee, thanks, Ma.” Cookie shook her head, sending her long, thick mane of auburn hair whipping about her. “Don’t mind me while you drool all over the guy I’m dating.” She smiled to herself, unable to muster any real outrage. Her mother’s penchant for speaking her mind was one of her best and possibly worst traits. Cookie was used to her mother’s antics and loved her for it, but there’d been several occasions when Rain’s inability to remain tactful had gotten her into some interesting situations. And Dylan had been on the receiving end of Rain’s inappropriate remarks more than a few times.
Dylan Creed, the local all-around-fix-it guy was by anyone’s measure smart, hot, sweet, funny, and dangerous. But the best part was, he was all Cookie’s.
He’d made his intentions pretty clear a month or so back, and after plenty of angst she’d finally accepted his offer a few weeks ago, on Christmas Day. Which was why her best friend and her mother were both needling Cookie about being out on the beach drinking with them instead of curled up somewhere with her new boyfriend.
“Dylan’s not going anywhere,” Cookie said, confident in her assessment. Dylan wasn’t the type—he was the strong, silent, loyal sort who never failed to turn up when she needed him. “It’s all pretty new with us, and I want to take it slow, ease into things. And he’s okay with that.”
Her mother snorted. “He’s willing to put up with it, you mean,” she stated, a grin creeping across her face. “Because really what he wants is to ease into something else entirely.” She giggled at her double entendre, and even Scarlett laughed while Cookie groaned and buried her face in her hands in order to hide just how much she was blushing.
“I just needed a night to clear my head,” she insisted from behind her hands. “It’s not all about Dylan, either. There’s been a lot going on, lately.”
Which was certainly true. When she and her mother had fled to Secret Seal Isle from Philly and taken on new identities, Cookie had thought she was escaping her old FBI life of excitement and bringing down bad guys once and for all. But since she’d arrived on the island, she’d been right in the middle of one long parade of theft, kidnappings, drugs, and murder. Sometimes she thought Philly was probably the quieter, saner option.
Cookie peeked out from behind her hands and found Scarlett, Rain, and even Winter nodding their agreement.
“It’s okay, CJ,” Scarlett assured her, wrapping an arm around Cookie’s shoulders. “We’re here for you. And you deserve to unwind a little and just chill out.” A wicked grin sprouted across her lovely face. “That way, the next time you do see Dylan, you’ll be in a much better position to jump his bones and really work out the kinks.”
Cookie slapped her best friend on the shoulder. “You’re all terrible, awful people,” she muttered, but she couldn’t help a smile. It really was nice being out here on the beach at night, just the four of them, not another soul around for miles and miles. It was cold out, but the night was perfectly clear with the stars twinkling overhead as far as the eye could see, and they’d gathered enough driftwood to build a nice big bonfire that was keeping them toasty warm.
The bottles of wine they’d brought along weren’t hurting, either.
“I need to tinkle,” Rain announced, sitting bolt upright on the cooler she’d claimed as her seat and then nearly toppling over backward. Both she and Winter burst into loud giggles.
“Me too,” Winter agreed after she caught her breath, her long, snow-white braid swaying behind her. “All that wine’s gone straight through me.” She rose to her feet and helped Rain up as well. Both women were noticeably unsteady.
“Well, there’s an entire ocean right there,” Scarlett pointed out, waving a hand in the water’s general direction. “Pick a spot.” Which was pretty funny, coming from Cookie’s law-abiding, attorney best friend. Especially since both her mom and Winter stared like Scarlett had just suggested they walk across broken glass.
“You want me to wade out into freezing-cold water just so I can pee in it?” Rain asked, eyes wide. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for that!”
“It’s either that or go behind a rock or something,” Cookie said, peering about. There weren’t a whole lot of rocks out here. Or much of anything else except a whole lot of water and sand.
“Don’t be silly,” Rain said, pointing to a shack off in the distance. “I’m going over to the boathouse.” And with the exaggerated dignity of the very drunk, she turned as if in slow motion and began walking in that direction.
“That’s a boathouse?” Cookie stood too, frowning as she tried to make out more details about the old building her mothe
r was heading toward. “I thought it was just some old shed or something.”
“It’s not much more than that, really,” Winter said. “It’s been there for decades but hasn’t had a boat inside for ages. However it does have a working light, running water, and a toilet. Lots of locals use it for a hangout—and makeout—spot.” A few years back, Winter had moved to Hancock, the small town on the mainland right across the water from Secret Seal Isle. Her tea shop had already been well established there when Cookie and Rain had arrived. Evidently she’d used some of that time to learn the local lore.
Winter waved and hurried to catch up with Rain. Cookie stayed where she was a moment, still on her feet, and Scarlett rose to join her.
“We’re following them, aren’t we?” Scarlett asked, and Cookie nodded. The amount of trouble Rain and Winter could get into when left unsupervised was practically legendary. And even though this should be just a simple restroom break, Cookie knew better than to leave them to their own devices.
She and Scarlett followed the two older women, albeit at a slightly slower pace. “You doing okay?” Cookie asked her best friend as they walked. “You’re not exactly your usual perky self lately.”
“I’m fine,” Scarlett insisted with a quick shrug. Then she sighed and shook her head. “I’m okay,” she corrected. “Just—I don’t know.” She crooked a half smile and slung her arm around Cookie again. “You know I love you, right? And this has been great, living together and getting to hang out again every day—especially since I don’t have to worry about shoving your dirty clothes off my bed every night.”
“Hey, it wasn’t every night,” Cookie protested, but she was laughing as she said it. They had met and been roommates in college, and they’d been best friends ever since. But she frowned as she processed what Scarlett wasn’t saying. “You sound like you’re saying good-bye.”
A chuckle escaped her friend’s lips. “This is why rooming with you was tough sometimes,” she pointed out, “because you could always tell when I was lying or just not saying something. Like that time I broke your lamp, remember?”
“Nobody would have believed that some random frat guy broke in on a panty raid and bumped it off the table,” Cookie argued, rolling her eyes. “Especially since none of our panties were missing or even out of place.” She gave Scarlett a sidelong glance. “So you’re leaving?” She felt a sharp pang of regret.
After college she and Scarlett had drifted apart, at least geographically—her to Quantico and then the FBI regional office in Philly, Scarlett to New York. They talked regularly, but only saw each other maybe once or twice a year. Ever since she and Rain had moved out to the island, however, Scarlett had been a regular visitor. And then she’d surprised them by showing up last month with a plan to stay for a while.
It sounded like “a while” was about to be over.
“I don’t know yet,” her best friend said as they neared the boathouse, which looked just as old and rundown up close as it had from a distance. “I haven’t decided.” She shrugged. “But I’m starting to get antsy. This has been fun and relaxing, but you know how I get when I have too much time on my hands.” Cookie had to nod at that. Scarlett hadn’t been built for the slow-paced life, and a few days into any vacation she started coming up with activities to keep herself busy. “I think it may be time to go back to work soon.”
“What about Daphne?” Cookie teased. “Think she’s going to be happy to give up the reins again?” Daphne was Scarlett’s law associate, and she’d been in charge of the firm in Scarlett’s absence.
That provoked a snort. “She’d better be,” was Scarlett’s reply. “Or she’s going to get a quick reminder of who’s the boss.” She smiled. “It’ll be fine, really. Daphne was just telling me that she was a little overwhelmed by it all. She’s been doing great, and I’ll probably wind up giving her control of a few things once I’m back, but I think she’d be happy to have me there to handle the problems again.”
“You were always good at that,” Cookie agreed. There was a reason people had called them “Fire and Ice” back in school, and it had been only partially due to her own red hair and Scarlett’s blond. But mostly it was because Cookie was all emotion when she got riled up, whereas her best friend became eerily calm and cool when the tension ratcheted. It was part of why they made such a great team. “I’ll miss you,” Cookie blurted out, and wasn’t surprised to find tears pricking at her eyes.
“Oh, I’ll miss you too, CJ,” Scarlett promised, tightening her grip. “And you know I’ll visit. And call. And all that.” She laughed. “But hey, I’m not gone yet, right?”
“Right.” Cookie swiped the tears away before they could freeze on her cheeks. She glanced at the boathouse. “Are Mom and Winter still in there? How long does it take to pee, anyway?”
“Well, they did have a lot of wine,” her friend pointed out. Her eyes glinted with mischief. “But you don’t really think that’s all they’re doing in there, do you?” She mimed puffing on a joint, and they both laughed, knowing she was probably right.
And that was precisely when a familiar scream split the night, coming from the battered old building directly in front of them:
“COOOOKIEEEEEEEE!”
2
Cookie barreled through the badly hung door in two seconds flat, Scarlett right behind her. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the dim lighting within, and peered about. “Mom?” she called, one hand outstretched to keep from running into anything.
Someone grabbed her arm, and Cookie froze, forcing herself to not automatically twist free and tackle whoever had laid hands on her. A second later, her mother’s voice rang in her ear as she hugged Cookie tightly.
“Oh, it’s awful!” Rain gasped, her head buried against Cookie’s chest.
Not for the first time, Cookie felt as if their roles had been reversed, with her as the protective parent and Rain as the fragile, needy child. “What happened?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around her mother and stroked her hair. “Are you okay? Where’s Winter?”
“Here,” the older woman replied, emerging from the shadows like a wraith, her pale face and staring eyes only adding to the spectral impression. “I’m okay,” she promised, stopping almost close enough for her toes to brush Cookie’s. “We’re both okay. Just a bit of a shock, is all.”
Judging by the woman’s glazed expression and nearly monotone delivery, Cookie judged her shock to be somewhat more than “a bit.”
“I thought it was a skunk,” Rain said, her words still muffled. “That’s all. Just a skunk. Winter said we’d need a tomato sauce bath, if it was. Then I said we could probably get away with marinara, and at least then we’d be sorta spicy, but that fra diavolo would be too much because if it got into our eyes it could burn. We didn’t think that pesto would help at all, and alfredo—”
“Mom,” Cookie interjected as gently as she could.
Rain let out a soft sob.
Cookie peeled herself free far enough that Rain had to glance up and meet her eyes. “It’s okay, Mom,” Cookie promised her. Rain didn’t look injured, nor did Winter, but Cookie didn’t want to take any chances. “It’ll all be okay. But I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”
“I said it couldn’t be a skunk because we’d have smelled it by now,” Winter offered, not sounding any less disjointed than her friend. “I thought it was maybe a raccoon. They can get pretty big, and they’re smart… smart enough to open a door for sure.” She shuddered a little. “It wasn’t a raccoon.”
“Then what was it?” Cookie asked, studying each of the older women in turn. “And where was it exactly?”
Both of them turned and pointed toward the far dark corner of the room.
As she marched carefully, cautiously in that direction, Cookie took stock of the situation. The boathouse was a single long room, with a rough plank floor and crudely shingled walls. The ceiling was a sturdy thatch of beams, however, and the one window was installed tightly enough to only let in
a general sense of cold rather than a piercing draft. A lone bulb hung overhead, swaying gently and casting enough light to softly illuminate the sink and toilet occupying one corner. Something dark huddled on the floor in that corner of the otherwise empty room.
Cookie moved forward, wishing she had thought to bring her gun. It figured the one time she wasn’t armed she found herself itching for the cool metal beneath her fingertips. But the evening was supposed to be a nice, relaxing night out with friends, stargazing with a few glasses of wine. She hadn’t expected to need a weapon for that. But the shape in question was perfectly still, and she knew she wouldn’t require her gun.
A hint of something familiar in the air caught her attention, and she slowed long enough to take a deep sniff. Then, despite the fact that she and Scarlett had just been discussing this exact possibility mere moments ago, Cookie fixed her mother with a baleful gaze. “Really?” she asked. “You came in here to get high?” She shook her head. “I can’t figure out if I’m more upset that you lied or annoyed that you thought you had to hide it. It’s not like you ever have before.”
“It wasn’t a lie!” Rain contested hotly, either too mad to remember how upset she was or recovering surprisingly quickly from whatever it was that had spooked her. “I really did have to tinkle.”
“Fine,” Cookie said, letting the argument drop as she stopped a few inches away from the shadowed mass. She squinted, trying to make out whatever it was in the corner, but the light just wasn’t bright enough. Her boot tapped against something that clattered dully, and she glanced down to see a long stick rolling across the planks of the floor.
