by Lucy Quinn
“I wonder if I could do that.” Rain reached for a pair of tassels sitting on top of the freezer with one hand and started to unlace her corset with the other.
“Mother!” Cookie cried, finally finding her voice. “What in the ever-loving hell are you two doing?”
Rain dropped the pasties and immediately stopped undoing her laces. A look of contrition washed over her as her cheeks flushed. “Nothing.”
“It looks like you’re trying on another woman’s lingerie,” Cookie said, peering at her mother’s enlarged pupils. It was no surprise to Cookie that her mother, and no doubt Winter, had been getting high before they rummaged through Lydia’s intimates, not to mention that would confirm where the storage worker had gotten his stash.
“It’s not like she’s going to be able to use it again,” Winter said in a small voice.
“Right,” Rain agreed. “It’d be a shame to let such quality silk go to waste.”
A dull ache formed over Cookie’s left eye, and she forced herself to remain calm. “You do realize this is a crime scene, right?”
“Yes,” Rain said, somewhat defensively, as she turned to point at the freezer. “We didn’t touch anything inside there.”
Winter turned her attention to the freezer, and Cookie noted the visible shudder that rolled through her mother’s dear friend. The older woman wrapped her arms around her body and rubbed her arms as if she were imagining what it would be like to be trapped in the cold.
“At least there’s that,” Cookie said, shaking her head. She moved in front of the freezer, noting the framed picture of a pretty brunette and dried roses lying in front of it as if it were a gravestone. “Is that Lydia?” Cookie asked Winter.
“Looks like her. I’ve only seen her in a picture in Blake’s study.”
Cookie nodded and after pulling her sleeve down to cover her fingers, she reached over and lifted the top of the freezer. Sure enough, a frosty version of a woman with long brunette hair stared back at her with glassy eyes. “Damn,” Cookie muttered and let the freezer close with a thud.
“Should I call Swan?” Dylan asked, placing his hand on the small of her back.
“No!” Winter and Rain said at the same time.
Cookie turned and crossed her arms over her chest. As much as she distrusted Swan with anything more serious than a traffic ticket, there were protocols to follow. “I don’t think I really have a choice.”
“But he’s so lazy he’ll immediately blame Blake,” Winter said. “And I know he didn’t do this.”
Cookie raised her eyebrows in question. “The husband is the first one the authorities will suspect. And clearly this unit is some sort of love nest.” But even as she said the words out loud, her analysis felt off. Why would a woman and her husband use a storage unit for a secret tryst? She supposed it was possible they were role playing and pretending to have an affair to spice things up in the bedroom.
“No,” Winter insisted. She reached into the chest of drawers and grabbed a handful of garments. “Blake doesn’t even like lingerie. Something about his mom and dad and an ill-timed nooner that he accidently walked in on traumatized him. He said ever since then, every time he sees a silky negligee it kills his mood. He prefers me to go naked.” She gave Cookie a self-satisfied smile. “I just strip. Economical when you think about it.”
“It so many ways,” Rain added.
Cookie’s eyes met Dylan’s.
He shrugged. “Sounds reasonable.”
Cookie had to agree. For once, Winter was making perfect sense.
“I’ve heard the nooner story, Cookie,” her mother said. “It’s true. Blake wouldn’t be into any of this stuff. Too bad too, because I know Hale would lose his mind if he saw me shake my groove thang in this little number.” She wiggled her hips and leered at Dylan. “Wouldn’t you like to see Cookie—”
“That’s enough of that,” Cookie said, holding her hand up. “What Dylan would like to see me in is not up for discussion.”
“Sure it is,” Dylan muttered.
Rain giggled while Cookie shot him a not-now look. “Listen,” she said to Winter. “I tend to agree with your assessment about Blake, but the fact is I don’t have a choice here. The local law has to be notified. And unfortunately, that’s Swan. But I’ll do what I can to make sure the case is thoroughly investigated.”
“She’ll call Hunter,” Rain said with authority.
“I am not going to call Hunter,” Cookie insisted. Hadn’t she been deputized? She didn’t need Hunter. Besides having access to FBI records, he was no more qualified to lead a case than she was. “He doesn’t have to handle every investigation here on the island.”
“You promise Blake won’t be unjustly accused?” Winter asked, wringing her hands.
Cookie knew better than to promise that so she said, “I’ll do what I can,” and pulled out her phone to make the call.
Chapter 3
Cookie and Dylan stood outside the closed storage unit, waiting for Rain and Winter to change out of Lydia’s lingerie. It’d been close to ten minutes already, and Cookie’s patience was running thin considering she’d already called Deputy Swan and he could arrive any minute.
“Hurry up,” she said, pounding a fist on the metal door.
“Just a sec,” she heard Winter call. “Your mom’s just trying to squeeze back into her leather pants. I think we might need a shoehorn to get them over her backside.”
“Hey!” Rain called out, clearly offended.
“Leather pants?” Dylan asked.
Cookie closed her eyes and shook her head. “Mom saw a picture of Hayley Holloway in a pair of skin-tight red leather pants, and all I’ve heard for the past week is how hot she’d look in them.”
“Right.” Dylan nodded as if her explanation was perfectly reasonable for a sixty-something-year-old inn keeper. Cookie chuckled, loving the way Dylan just rolled with her mother’s shenanigans.
The sound of metal clanging indicated the door was rolling up, and Cookie turned to see her mother in skin-tight red leather pants, black knee-high boots, and white-with-red-hearts cropped T-shirt that appeared to be two sizes too small. A faux fur jacket was slung over her right shoulder.
Cookie blinked as she gazed at what appeared to be an aged rock star stuck in her glory days.
“Someone’s ready for Valentine’s Day,” Dylan said.
“Hale and I have a date later. You like?” She turned around and glanced over her shoulder as if she were posing for a fashion shoot.
Cookie let out a groan but secretly admired her mother’s self-confidence, despite the fact her leather pants weren’t exactly tight in the rear.
“I think she looks hot,” Winter said, defending her friend.
Rain laughed. “I knew my daughter was too uptight for this outfit.” She placed a hand on Dylan’s arm and waggled her eyebrows at him. “I just hope that for your sake she drops the inhibitions once you’re in the bedroom.”
Dylan grinned at Cookie, and her face flushed with heat.
“Aha!” Rain’s eyes gleamed as she pointed a finger at Cookie. “I knew it! The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.”
“Mom, do you think we could move on from my love-life and focus on the dead woman in the freezer?” Cookie pressed her fingertips to her temples, hardly believing the words that had just come out of her mouth.
“Of course, Cookie. We can discuss ways to enhance your sex life during dinner,” her mother said matter-of-factly as if it were ordinary family meal conversation.
“Oh for crying out—”
“There you are,” a male voice said, interrupting Cookie’s outrage.
She turned and spotted the doughy, dark-haired deputy working his way toward them. He moved with a lumbering gait, as if he was having trouble putting one foot in front of the other, and his cheeks were rosy. No doubt he’d already been into the sauce. It was a rare occasion when one encountered Deputy Swan sober. It appeared today wasn’t going to be one of them.
Another man rounded the corner, his long strides quickly overtaking the deputy. He was tall, with a medium build, and had silver hair.
“Blake!” Winter said, rushing to meet him.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking her in close and bending his head to say something Cookie couldn’t hear.
Winter pointed at the storage unit. “She’s in there.”
Blake’s face turned to ash as he slowly worked his way into his wife’s love nest. Once he was in the middle of the unit, he stood stock-still, taking in the surroundings. His eyes focused on the bed for a long moment, and then he noticed the still-opened drawer. He sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head in pure disbelief.
He glanced back at Winter, who’d stayed just outside of the unit by Rain’s side. “How did you know to come here?” he asked.
Winter visibly swallowed and glanced away before confessing, “I read her journal.”
“What?” He turned and walked back to Winter, staring down at her in confusion.
“I… um, the other day when you were in the shower, I was in your study, or I guess the room that used to be Lydia’s study. Anyway, I was looking for a piece of paper to write you a note and let you know I had to run an errand. But while I was rummaging around for a pen in the top drawer, a small key that had been taped to the underside of the desk was jarred loose and just plopped down, taunting me.”
“So you decided to use it?” Cookie asked before she could stop herself.
Winter grimaced. “I don’t know what came over me. The curiosity was overwhelming.” She stared into Blake’s disbelieving expression. “I was sure the key went to the decorative box on the desk, and I never even stopped to think there might be secrets in there. I just… well, anyway. That’s where I found her journal. The last entry was over five years ago and she wrote about the hot… um, her encounters here with her lover.” Winter looked at Blake with compassion in her eyes.
“Whoa, nelly, oh boy were they—” Rain stopped herself when Winter and Cookie both glared at her.
Cookie shook her head. Now was so not the time. The man may have just learned his wife had been having an affair and was dead—or that his secret had finally been discovered.
Rain bit down on her lower lip and glanced away, a contrite expression on her face.
“So instead of telling me about it, you and Rain just decided to come here?” Blake asked, disbelief in his tone.
Winter put a soft hand on his chest, staring up at him with tears in her eyes. The woman who’d been trying on negligées and laughing with Rain was long gone, and Cookie was relieved to see her taking this seriously, even if Rain was still bordering on the ridiculous. “I didn’t want to upset you if it turned out to be nothing… but then we found her.”
“Where is she?” Swan demanded.
“In there, cooling off,” Rain said, pointing to the freezer. “She looks great for being dead for five years.”
Her mother had a point. Other than being blue and lifeless, the body hadn’t deteriorated at all. It would make the forensics much easier to tackle.
Swan stalked over to the freezer and yanked the top open. “Yep. She’s a popsicle.”
Blake walked up behind him, gasped, and then closed his eyes as his face paled. His body swayed, and Cookie was afraid the man was going to pass out.
“Whoa,” Cookie said, moving to stand beside him. She wrapped her arm around his waist, steadying him. “Are you all right?”
Blake shook his head, his entire body trembling.
“You wouldn’t be either if you’d just been caught red-handed,” Swan declared, pulling his handcuffs off his belt.
“What?” Cookie, Rain, and Winter all said at the same time.
“It’s obvious Blake killed Lydia. Look at how upset he is that his current lover found his wife.” He pointed at Blake, who was shivering, making it clear to Cookie that he was in shock. Who wouldn’t be after finding out their missing spouse has spent the last five years just a few miles away in a freezer?
“You’re going to have to come with me, sir.” Swan snapped a cuff onto Blake’s right wrist and was reaching for the left when Winter grabbed hold of the deputy and forcibly pulled him away from her man.
“What is the matter with you? He didn’t do it,” she insisted. “How could he? He didn’t even know this place existed?”
“He wants you to think that.” Swan grabbed her wrist and removed her hand from his arm. “Now let me go before I take you in for obstruction.”
Winter’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to protest, but Blake cut her off. “Don’t, Winter,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “I don’t want you mixed up in this.”
“But I’m the one who found her. I’m already in the middle of it,” she insisted.
“Please,” he pleaded. “Don’t make this worse. I’ll go and answer his questions. I’m sure I’ll be home in a few hours.”
Swan snorted his disbelief.
“This is crazy,” Cookie said. “You don’t have any evidence.”
“I will after we get a confession out of him,” Swan said, securing the second cuff around the man’s wrist. The deputy yanked Blake out of the storage unit, and with a somewhat steadier step, marched him back toward the office.
“But he doesn’t even like lingerie!” Winter yelled after him.
The deputy ignored her, and a moment later they disappeared around the corner.
“No!” Winter buried her face in her hands while Rain rubbed the woman’s back in a supportive gesture.
“She told you Swan was a bad call,” Rain told Cookie. “Should’ve called Hunter.”
“Even if I had, we still would’ve had to inform Swan,” Cookie said, irritated. What exactly had Swan been thinking? There was less than zero evidence linking Blake to the murder of his wife. At best, Swan had reasons to question the man, but to arrest him? No. He was the laziest excuse for a law enforcement officer Cookie had ever witnessed.
“You have to help him, Cookie,” Winter pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “He’s innocent. I can feel it in my bones.”
“He’s really not the murdering type,” Rain said. “I can sense these things.”
“I’m sure you can,” Cookie said absently, staring at the freezer. Swan hadn’t searched the unit for clues. He hadn’t even called anyone to come get the body. She sighed. Even if Winter hadn’t been her mother’s closest friend, she already knew she’d get involved. Swan was just too incompetent to handle a potential murder case.
“You’re going to need help with this,” Dylan said, reading her mind.
She nodded. “I know.”
“Your mother’s right. You should call Hunter.”
Cookie glanced up at him, meeting his deep blue gaze. “Are you okay with that? Having Hunter hanging around again?”
He gave Cookie a half shrug and a cocky smile. “I’m pretty sure that after our date the other night, I don’t have much to worry about.”
Cookie’s mind filled with memories of them locked in her bedroom, and her lips twitched into a smile of her own. “You’re right. You don’t.”
Then she pulled out her phone and dialed.
Chapter 4
Cookie stood outside of the storage unit building and stared up at the bluebird sky. Water dripped steadily from icicles onto the pavement as the sun offered unseasonable warmth for Maine in February. She knew she was going to have to do some convincing to get Hunter to come to Secret Seal Isle again and opted to make her call away from any prying ears. Dylan’s included. Not only was she sure her former FBI partner had used up all his vacation days for the series of murder investigations she’d pulled him into over the past year, she was fairly certain he’d used up most of his favors as well.
Considering Hunter had made it clear he wanted a more physical kind of partnership with Cookie, which she’d certainly considered with painstaking care, and the fact she’d eventually turned him down for Dylan Creed, Cookie was co
nfident getting Hunter back on the island was going to be more than difficult.
She took a deep breath and hit CALL.
Hunter answered on the first ring. “The answer is no, Charlie.”
“Well, hello to you, too,” Cookie said in a sweet voice even though she was annoyed at his reaction. “The weather here is downright balmy for this time of year. I think we’re experiencing the January thaw a little late. How is it in Philly?”
“You called to talk about the weather?” Hunter chuckled. “Whatever it really is, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Fine,” she said while she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger as if he could see her. “Then I suppose a couple drawers full of lingerie, which by the way hug a woman’s curves in all the right ways…” She paused for a moment to let the visual secure itself in Hunter’s mind. “A secret love nest and a body on ice for five years wouldn’t interest you.”
“Lingerie that hugs—how would you even—” He let out a huff of annoyance. “No, Charlie. It doesn’t. And need I remind you that you’re no longer in law enforcement, which makes you a meddling citizen? Stay out of it and let the professionals do their job.” The line went dead, and there was no question he’d just hung up on her.
“Hmpf,” she said as she stuck her phone back in her pocket, embarrassed to admit to herself that his words stung. She may have given up her FBI badge, but that didn’t make her a meddling citizen. She had been deputized after all. Besides which, Swan was the only other professional on the island, and that thought made her shudder.
She turned to the sound of the creaking door as Dylan walked out of the storage unit office. Sunlight glistened on his dark hair, turning it a soft brown, as his smile warmed her heart and melted her bad mood away. Normally that would be no small feat, but Cookie was most definitely in love.
Dylan’s eyes twinkled with the mischief of earlier in the day when he asked, “Your mother and Winter are busy putting away the… ah, clothing they borrowed for their impromptu fashion show. Are we off the hook until Agent O’Neil shows up?”
Oh boy did Cookie wish that were true, because what had almost happened in her bedroom earlier was preferable to frozen women and— Well, heck. A roll in the hay with Dylan Creed was preferable to everything as far as she was concerned. She let out a sigh. “It looks like I’m on my own with this one. Hunter said no.” She didn’t bother to mention that Hunter also told her to stay away from the case as well.
