by Lucy Quinn
“I couldn’t risk anyone knowing he was here, now could I? What would Hale say? Plus, I didn’t want to get busted for obstruction of justice. You won’t tell Hunter, will you? I know that man has been dying to put me in handcuffs for years.”
“For the love of…” Cookie ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t believe you did this.” But of course she could believe it. Why wouldn’t she? Rain wasn’t exactly the most rational person who ever lived, even if her intentions were honorable.
“He just…” Rain let out a small sob. “I didn’t mean to kill him. It’s all my fault. If I didn’t have such a rockin’ body, he’d still be here.”
A vision of her mother in her sagging leather pants crossed her mind, and Cookie had to fight to not chuckle at her mother’s conclusion. Leave it to Rain to be absurd in the most inappropriate situations. Cookie cleared her throat. “Calm down, Mom. It’s not your fault he had a weak heart. Just… stay home and don’t say anything about this to anyone. Got it?”
“Winter knows.”
Of course she did. She’d been driving the Mustang and no doubt had helped Rain move the body. “Just tell her to keep it to herself. Tell no one else. Not even Scarlett. Got it?”
“You want me to keep secrets from Scarlett?” Her mother tsked. “Since when do we do that?”
“Plausible deniability,” Cookie said, rubbing her forehead. “This is to protect her, not shut her out.”
“Am I… Oh my god. Am I in trouble?”
“Only if someone finds out. Listen, Mom. I have to go. Stay home. Don’t get into any more trouble. Got it?”
“Yes.” Her mother’s voice was distant, contrite. “Hurry back, okay? Today was… rough.”
Cookie softened her tone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She pressed the End button and glanced up to see Hunter staring at her. “He had a heart attack in my office. Rain and Winter, in their infinite wisdom, thought it would be bad if he was found there.”
A muscle in Hunter’s neck bulged as he fought to control his anger. Cookie was acutely aware she’d just asked, without actually asking, an FBI agent to overlook a crime. Without saying a word, he pressed a button on his phone and turned his back to her.
Cookie walked out of the glass office and paced. Swan was dead. Her mother was a criminal. Dylan wasn’t speaking to her. But right then they needed to focus on apprehending Drew before he skipped town. She was absolutely certain he was Lydia’s lover, and that put him right at the top of the suspect list.
As annoyed as she was at her mother for overreacting and getting herself into trouble, Cookie was also worried about her. She’d sounded scared and emotionally drained when Cookie had ended the call. The desire to run home and make sure Rain was all right pulled at her heart. But she couldn’t go. She had a job to do. A murderer to apprehend. Still, there was someone she could call who’d keep an eye on Rain, no questions asked.
Cookie pulled her phone out and dialed Scarlett.
“Cookie, happy Valentine’s Day! Are you excited for your hot date with Dylan tonight?”
“Hey, Scar,” Cookie said with a smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day, yourself. Got any hot plans of your own?”
Scarlett scoffed. “Not unless you count a little banter with Larry down at the Salty Dog. I thought I’d grab something to eat later while the rest of you are out sexing up your boy-toys.”
“Sounds better than watching romantic tragedies and eating your weight in chocolates,” Cookie said through a smile.
“No doubt.” Scarlett chuckled. “The last time we did that, we also chugged the vodka and took turns holding each other’s hair back. I think I’ll pass.”
“Definitely.” Cookie walked to the front door and stared out at the snowy street. “Listen, Scar. I need you to do something for me.”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Can you keep an eye on my mother this afternoon? She’s had… an eventful morning. I’ve asked her to lay low at the inn until I can get back there, but you know Rain. Sometimes she’s a little…”
“Impulsive? Flighty? A pain in the butt?”
Cookie laughed. “All of the above.”
“What happened?” Scarlett asked.
“You really don’t want to know. Not right now. Trust me on this one.”
Scarlett let out a low whistle. “Sounds juicy. You’ll fill me in later?”
“No doubt, but for right now, it’s best to let it lie,” Cookie said.
“Gotcha. No problem. I’ve been out on the other side of the island taking pictures. I’ll head back now and keep her chained to the inn.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“I know,” Scarlett said and ended the call.
Five minutes later, Hunter emerged from Swan’s office holding a sheet of fax paper. He held it up, showing off the warrant they needed. “Let’s go.”
Cookie glanced back at the office. “What about Swan?”
“He’s not going anywhere.”
Chapter 18
Cookie had to run to keep up with Hunter. The cold air stung her face, numbing her nose. But she could practically see steam radiating from Hunter. He was angry. Angrier than usual. The tension in his neck and his clipped, jerky movements as he trudged down Main Street were a dead giveaway.
“Hunter! Wait up,” Cookie called after him, jogging to catch up. He’d always been a fast walker, but usually that wasn’t an issue for her. She was tall and had an impressive stride herself. But today, he was giving her a run for her money.
“Why?” he snapped back as he came to an abrupt stop and rounded on her. “The only thing I get here on this island is a load of crap. You couldn’t just leave me alone, could you? Now I have to watch you with some other guy while your mother once again puts my career in jeopardy. Christ, Charlie. Can you think of any reason why I should be here?”
Cookie gulped, her face burning with embarrassment and her heart cracking from the pain she hadn’t intended to cause him. “Because it’s your job to catch the bad guys?”
He snorted divisively. “There are other agents who can handle this small town BS.”
She reared back, feeling as if he’d punched her in the gut. This was the seventh case Hunter had helped her with since she’d moved to the out of the way island. And while the cases hadn’t dealt with career mobsters or the cartel, they had brought down a couple of international art thieves and drug dealers. They’d done important work and had saved lives, made a real difference for the locals. Still, she couldn’t argue with his assessment. There were other agents or law enforcement officers who could handle the cases. She just hadn’t been able to entertain that possibility.
Hunter had been her partner for the better part of a decade. Moving, changing her life, starting a relationship with Dylan, all of those things were changes she’d wanted and knew in her heart were the right moves. But losing her partner, the person she trusted to have her back on every mission, left a Hunter-shaped hole in her heart.
“You’re right. You don’t have to be the one to do any of this,” she said thickly. “I shouldn’t have called. I chose this life, this town. You didn’t. I just…” She shook her head and shrugged as she lifted her hands, palms up. “You were my partner. And you’re who I do this with.”
Hunter’s dark gaze bored into hers. There was war raging in those dark eyes of his. An internal, private war she knew she shouldn’t be privy to. She just knew him too well. Just like her knew her… or used to anyway. Cookie realized she’d changed since moving to the island. Her plans, her goals, what she wanted out of life were all different now. Still, she was the same Charlie Jamieson on the inside that she’d always been. And the FBI agent lying dormant inside of her sprang to life. There was no time for fights or regrets or forgiveness. Right then, they had a perp to catch.
“Come on,” she said, giving him an out. He didn’t need to say anything. Not then, maybe not ever. He owed her nothing. Not anymore. She’d made her choices and he needed to make his. “
We need to catch up with Drew before it’s too late.”
Hunter blew out a long breath and grasped the back of his neck with one hand. “Right. You think he’s still at the store?”
Relief fluttered through her chest. It was always the same with them. No matter what was going on, they each had the capacity to shove it aside and get the job done. She pasted on a smile. “Seems like the best place to start.”
“Then let’s go.” Hunter turned and once again strode down the street. Only this time, his movements were graceful and smooth, the previously obvious agitation gone.
Cookie fell into step beside him, easily keeping up with his clipped pace.
“If for some reason he’s not there, any ideas on where to look next? Besides the ferry I mean?” Hunter asked. “Do you know this guy at all?”
“Not really,” Cookie admitted. “If he’s not at his shop or his apartment, the next logical step is to make sure he hasn’t hopped the ferry. After that, I guess we just start canvassing the island.”
“Let’s do this,” said Hunter.
A few minutes later, they came to a stop in front of Drew’s shop. The lights were off and the sign read Closed. The hours posted indicated the shop was open from 9 to 4 Tuesday through Sunday. It was Monday, and Drew must have only opened in the morning for the holiday. This couldn’t be easy, Cookie thought. If she hadn’t been dealing with her mother’s explanation of her criminal behavior or fighting with Hunter, it was likely they’d have arrived in time before Drew closed up shop.
Cookie scowled and cupped her hands around her eyes as she peered through the glass.
“I think it’s safe to say he isn’t in there,” Hunter said.
“You don’t know that,” Cookie said. “He could be closing out his register in the back or doing inventory or something.”
Hunter raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You think he’d take time to do paperwork if he’s planning to run for it?”
“No,” she said, irritated he was right. Even with a run on Valentine’s Day cards and heart-shaped boxes of candy, it was unlikely Drew brought in enough money to even cover rent of the building. He had to own it outright or have some sort of money stashed away. Selling stationery was a dying business. And to run a store like that on a small island, it was a ludicrous to think it was profitable enough he’d risk getting apprehended just to make a mediocre bank deposit.
Cookie moved to the left and hit a button next to the unmarked door that she assumed would lead to an apartment above.
Nothing happened.
She pressed it again, holding it down, hoping the buzzer was loud and annoying enough that it would drive Drew to buzz them in.
“Who are you looking for?” a woman asked from behind Cookie.
Cookie spun, spotting a cute, dark-haired woman in her early twenties, holding a dozen long-stemmed roses. Her cheeks were flushed, her red lipstick was smudged, and her brilliant blue eyes sparkled. She was glowing with love and happiness. Someone had made her Valentine’s Day one to remember. “Andy DePaul. Do you know him?”
“Sure. He’s my neighbor. Kind of a recluse though. Once he closes up shop for the night, he sort of disappears into his apartment and doesn’t reemerge until the next day. He never opens the door for anyone.”
Hunter moved forward, his FBI badge in his hand. “It’s imperative that we speak with him. Do you think you can help us out and let us in this door?”
The young woman glanced from the badge to Hunter’s face, then back to mine. “FBI? Is Andy in some sort of trouble?”
“That’s not something we’re at liberty to discuss,” Hunter said, all business. “But it would be a great help if you could unlock that door.”
“I don’t—” the girl started.
Cookie placed a light hand on her arm. “Please. It’s imperative that we talk to Andy as soon as possible.” Cookie didn’t want to frighten the woman and tell her that Andy, her neighbor, was a suspected murderer, but she would if she had to in order to get through that door.
The woman nodded and let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, but don’t tell him it was me. He’ll get really angry, and I can’t afford to live anywhere else right now.”
He was her landlord. That explained a lot about how he was able to stay in business. “Wouldn’t dream of mentioning it,” Cookie said.
The brunette nodded once, inserted her key, and pulled the door open. “I’m going to go up first. Can you wait just a minute before following me?”
Hunter was practically vibrating with tension and impatience. Cookie knew the feeling. They didn’t have precious minutes to waste.
“Sorry,” Cookie said, her hand already reaching for the weapon tucked in her jeans at the small of her back. “This is urgent.”
Hunter swept past them both and entered the hall, his weapon pointed to the floor as he cleared the area. The young woman let out a high-pitched gasp and turned to Cookie with wild eyes. So much for not scaring her.
“It’ll be all right. Just a precaution,” Cookie said, giving her a warm smile. Andy hadn’t given them any reason to suspect he was violent. Well, nothing other than strangling Lydia, but the space was enclosed, with nowhere to take cover or escape. In their line of work, they had to be cautious. Not just for their own safety, but for the safety of those around them.
The young woman shook her head and backed away, texting one handed on her phone.
Aw, crap. Cookie took two quick steps forward and grabbed her by the shoulder. “Listen. It’s better if you go to a friend’s—” Cookie cut her gaze to the flowers still clutched in the woman’s hands “—or a boyfriend’s house while we do what we need to do. But please don’t spread this around. We don’t need gawkers getting in the line of fire.”
Another gasp and one single tear fell down her right cheek.
Double crap! Cookie cursed herself. She was failing at keeping this girl calm. “Just go, okay? Everything will be—”
“Charlie, get in here,” Hunter’s deep voice called from the top of the stairs.
“Just go,” Cookie said one more time, giving the girl a gentle nudge in the direction she’d come from. Then she spun on her heel and sprinted up the stairs. To the right were two doors. One said Manager and was wide open. The other just had a faded number 1 smack in the middle.
Hunter pointed his gun at the manager’s apartment. “It must be that one.”
“Have you cleared it yet?” Cookie asked, already knowing the answer was no. He wouldn’t do it by himself if he didn’t have to. Backup was always safer.
He shook his head.
Cookie nodded and flattened herself against the wall beside the door, holding her gun, pointed up, with both hands. Their eyes met for the briefest second then Hunter nodded. Cookie spun, pointing her gun into the apartment, careful to keep close to the right wall. The place looked like it had gone through a tornado or been tossed. A chair was overturned, and Cookie had to avoid stepping on broken glass from a lamp as she walked by.
Hunter followed her, covering her left side, moving toward the opening to what appeared to be the kitchen. “Clear,” he called.
Cookie kicked the bedroom door open and scanned the room, her gun still aimed in front of her. She checked the closet and yelled, “Clear.”
She heard Hunter stride across the apartment. A door banged open. A second later, he confirmed the bathroom was clear as well. Cookie joined him in the living room. Andy wasn’t home.
“Robbery?” Cookie asked, scanning the contents of the room.
“If so, they came for something specific. And they had access. No forced entry. Electronics haven’t been touched. Neither have the video games.” He nodded his head to the bar area separating the kitchen and living room. “There’s a computer over there.”
“The bedroom isn’t trashed,” Cookie added as she peered into the room again. “There’s even some cash on the dresser. Abducted?”
Hunter shrugged. “No real sign of a struggle.”
Sure the p
lace was a mess, but it looked more like someone had gone into a fit of rage and thrown anything within reaching distance. Both of the lamps were shattered, as well as a mug and a decorative bowl. The desk had been overturned, and when Cookie snapped on gloves and righted it she discovered a wooden box similar to the one Lydia had owned. It was broken as if someone had taken a hammer to it. Or perhaps the coffee mug. Cookie kneeled down to comb through the debris. The box contained a stack of stationery, and when she looked closely at the top sheet, she discovered it had the imprint of what had been written on top of it.
“Hunter! I think I found something.”
Her former partner came out of the kitchen to see as Cookie grabbed a pencil and began to slide it back and forth across the stack of paper to highlight the imprinted text.
It read, ‘My darling, Lydia.’ As Cookie continued to read she realized it was a love letter with a mix of apologies and regrets over what Drew had done.
“Whoa.” Cookie said, and she gathered them into a pile. “Talk about an evidence payload. While it’s not admissible, we’ve got ourselves a confession right here.”
Hunter said, “He sure makes it easy.”
Cookie nodded her agreement. Andy was drowning in a cesspool of guilt. All they had to do was catch him, and she was willing to bet he’d crack with the first round of questioning. The ones who felt remorse were the ones most likely to confess.
Hunter disappeared into the bedroom. Cookie heard the screech of dresser drawers opening, followed by what must have been the closet door slamming against the wall. Hunter ran back into the living room, and didn’t slow down as he yelled, “We’ve got to go! He’s on the run.”
Cookie glanced once again into the bedroom and instantly noted the empty dresser drawers Hunter had left open. “Son of a…” She pulled out her phone and called the ferry terminal office over in Hancock. A woman answered on the first ring. “Maine Line Water Transport, Lily speaking. How can I help you today?”
“Hi Lily,” she said as her feet pounded down the steps of the apartment building. “This is Cookie James from Secret Seal Isle. Can you patch me through to Captain Bob on the Secret Seal Isle ferry? It’s an emergency.”
