Knocking on Death's Door

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Knocking on Death's Door Page 7

by Lucy Quinn


  Cookie held up an eight. Dylan raised the card that had a ten on it, and Scarlett went with a seven. Rain and Cari, who’d been poking their heads out of the door, erupted into a cheer.

  “A ten?” Cookie asked Dylan, but he just shrugged.

  Next up was Cari. She wore a sheer black, flowy, romantic dress, black lace lingerie, and impossibly high heels. Compared to Winter, she was downright conservative. Cookie was ready to give her a ten, but when Cari made her way into the room, she spent the entire time wobbling on the heels and eventually just kicked them off when she joined Winter.

  Again, Cookie gave her an eight, Dylan awarded Cari a ten, and Scarlett knocked her down to a six for her poor catwalk skills. Cari pouted and said something about the scoring being rigged while Winter consoled her.

  Rain sauntered into the room, her freshly-dyed red hair in pigtails, wearing the Catholic-school-girl skirt and a white button-down shirt tied at her waist. She had on thigh-high socks and high-heeled Mary Jane shoes. She lip-synced to the music, jerking her hips back and forth so hard Cookie was afraid she was going to throw out her back. But then she did a complicated little jig with her feet, spun around, and ended with her butt in the air and her skirt flipped up, showing her ruffled panties.

  Cookie couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips and held up the nine card. Dylan once again raised the ten, and Scarlett shook her head and offered an eight.

  Rain scowled. “Come on. I think I deserved twelves for that performance.”

  “The cards only go up to ten, Mom,” Cookie said.

  “I know. But Dylan gave everyone tens. Since I prepared more, I think I should’ve gotten more points.” She walked over, grabbed the ten card from him, and tore it in half. Then she narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Don’t think we didn’t notice you were too chicken to give us actual scores.”

  “Guilty as charged,” he said, grinning.

  “And what are your excuses?” Rain asked Cookie and Scarlett. “Why only an eight and a nine?”

  Cookie and Scarlett shared a knowing glance, then they both said, “Your granny panties were showing.”

  “What?” Rain glanced over her shoulder, lifted her plaid skirt, and glanced down at the red ruffled bloomers that did nothing to hide her lime green panties. A pink blush stained her cheeks as she quickly covered herself again. “Maybe I need to break out the thong.”

  Dylan blanched while Cookie threw her head back and laughed.

  12

  “Thank you,” Dylan said to Cookie as they walked down the hill from the inn toward town.

  “For what?” she asked.

  “Getting me out of the nut house. For a second there, I was certain we were going to have to endure another round of the fashion show. And I’ve got to say, having Rain’s rear exposed wasn’t exactly what I’d bargained for.”

  Cookie snorted. “At least it was covered.”

  “This time,” he said with a pained expression.

  “You just never know what you’re gonna get with her around,” Cookie admitted. “But she keeps things entertaining.”

  “Entertaining. That’s one word for it.” He took a bite of the snickerdoodle he’d grabbed off the table just before they hightailed it out of the inn. After he swallowed, he added, “She does bake a mean cookie.”

  Cookie grinned at him, enjoying the way he took her mother in stride even when she was way over the top. What more could she ask for? She led the way down Main Street until they got to the Salty Dog. Once they were inside, Daisy, the owner’s daughter, immediately spotted Dylan and grinned.

  “Hey there,” the radiant redhead said as she beamed at Dylan and placed a hand on his forearm. “What brings you in this afternoon? Need a late lunch? The special today is amazing. Lobster paninis and blueberry pie for dessert.”

  “Too bad we already ate,” Dylan said smiling down at her. “Rain check?”

  “I can make a to-go bag and you can have it later,” Daisy offered.

  Cookie’s stomach rumbled with the mention of blueberry pie, but her gaze zeroed in on Daisy’s hand, and she narrowed her eyes. The green-eyed monster took over for a moment, and Cookie imagined tearing Dylan away from the woman’s clutches. Instead, she gritted her teeth and said, “Sure, we’ll take two of each.”

  Daisy turned her wide-eyed gaze on Cookie and jerked back just a touch as if she’d just realized the other woman was there. Her hand slid off Dylan’s arm as she smiled at Cookie and said, “Of course. I’ll just put the order in.”

  “Wait just a second,” Dylan said.

  Daisy paused and glanced over her shoulder at him. Her sparkling eyes and the pure joy radiating from her made Cookie feel inadequate somehow. How was it possible Dylan had chosen Cookie over his gorgeous ex-girlfriend? Cookie knew she wasn’t unfortunate in the looks department, but she didn’t have anything on a woman like Daisy who practically radiated sunshine. Cookie mentally shook herself. This wasn’t the time to be having a self-confidence breakdown.

  “We’re here to talk to Johnny,” Dylan said. “Do you think you could ask him to meet us on the deck out back? It should only take a few minutes.”

  “The dishwasher Johnny?” she asked, frowning.

  “That’s the one,” Cookie said, straightening her shoulders.

  “Why?” It was Daisy’s turn to narrow her eyes in suspicion.

  “It has to do with an ongoing investigation,” Cookie said.

  “The murder? This is about the guy you found in that trunk at the Miss Dumpy parade, isn’t it?”

  “It’s the only case we’re working on,” Cookie said, starting to get annoyed.

  “Johnny didn’t do it.” Daisy’s expression was indignant. “He’s never been near that car. You’re wasting your time.”

  Cookie raised one eyebrow. “Are you aware Johnny has a record?”

  Daisy’s face turned bright red as her eyes flashed with anger. “And what has that got to do with anything? The boy paid his penance.” She raked her gaze up and down Cookie. “People reinvent themselves all the time. And sometimes for the better.”

  Whoa. Cookie took a little satisfaction in the fact that even Miss Mary Sunshine could extend her claws and hiss when ruffled. And selfishly, it made her feel a little better that Daisy wasn’t always as sweet as her name suggested.

  Cookie smiled with what felt like a small victory and said, “Then this shouldn’t be a big deal.”

  Daisy let out a huff and turned her gaze to Dylan. “I’m telling you, Johnny didn’t do a thing and he doesn’t deserve this.”

  “I believe you,” Dylan said, and he glanced at Cookie.

  She wasn’t about to get into a disagreement with him over this, but there was no way Cookie was going to leave without talking to Johnny, so she said, “We still need to ask him some questions.”

  “Then I’m not leaving him alone with you for one second,” retorted Daisy.

  Cookie frowned. Suspects were typically questioned alone to avoid the possibility of guarded answers. Daisy was Johnny’s boss, and he could very well withhold information he might not want her to hear. “I can’t let you be part of the questioning.”

  “Why not?”

  Cookie refrained from letting out a heavy sigh and decided to cut Daisy off the way she would any other person who tried to interfere with questioning. “It’s the law.”

  Daisy shot her a glare. “I’ll go tell him to meet you out back,” she said before turning on her heel and walking to the kitchen.

  “Was that necessary?” Dylan asked.

  Cookie widened her eyes at Dylan in surprise. “He’s a known criminal. Of course it’s necessary.”

  Dylan held up both of his hands in defeat. “Let’s go to the back deck then,” he said and led the way out of the restaurant.

  The pungent odor of rotting fish wafted toward Cookie and Dylan when they passed the dumpster, and they found Johnny standing by the railing in a pair of baggy shorts and a loose T-shirt. He was smoking a cigare
tte, and the end glowed red as he sucked on it hard. He appeared to be not much more than twenty and had the soft boyish face of a late bloomer who probably didn’t shave more than twice a week.

  The clash of pots and chatter of cooks carried through the screen door while Johnny glanced at them with a fearful look in his puppy-dog eyes. He quickly dropped the cigarette and stomped it out. Then he squatted down to pick it up making Cookie’s heart soften a little. He was nervous, but not giving off an air of defiance. He didn’t appear to be a hardened criminal, and she understood why Daisy wanted to protect him. But appearances could lie.

  “You’re not in trouble, Johnny,” Dylan said.

  The dishwasher nodded quickly, but he didn’t seem to be any more comfortable.

  Cookie smiled trying to put him at ease. “I’m Deputy James and this is Deputy Creed. Daisy says you’re doing a great job here. Do you like living on the island?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What made you come here?”

  His gaze darted between Cookie and Dylan. “You talkin’ to me because of my record?” Johnny asked with a heavy Boston accent.

  “We’re talking to a lot of people,” Dylan said.

  “Yeah, okay.” He sighed. “I came here for a fresh start. I got mixed up with some people I shouldn’t have back home, and when my parole ended I decided to come here. Daisy and Larry, they’re the best, man. They didn’t care about my record. They gave me an apartment right upstairs, and Larry even takes me out fishing.”

  “They’re good people,” Dylan said with a nod.

  They were, Cookie had to admit, even if being around Daisy always made her green-eyed monster raise its ugly head. “Did you help out with the Salty Dog’s float at the parade?” Cookie asked.

  “Yeah. Daisy had me tying coupons to candy for days.”

  “What about the dump sweep?” she asked. “Did you go help get supplies?”

  “No,” Johnny chuckled. “But I shoulda. Dressing up as Elvis was insane.” He grimaced as he shook his head. The image of Larry in the tight rhinestone jacket Hale had wanted flashed in Cookie’s mind, and she chuckled too.

  Even though Johnny wasn’t at the dump for the supply sweep, it didn’t mean he’d never been before. Dylan must have been thinking the same because he said, “So we have to ask. Can you account for your whereabouts over the past three days?”

  Johnny nodded. “Yeah. I worked, played video games, and went out with Larry on his boat.”

  Cookie said, “If you could write it down for us, making a note of the times and anyone who can verify where you were, that would be great.”

  He frowned and reached in his shorts to pull out a pack of cigarettes. “Sure, but I wasn’t with someone the whole time.”

  “We need silverware!” called a female voice through the screen door, and Cookie assumed it was a waitress.

  “I understand,” Cookie said to Johnny while he shoved his cigarettes back in his pocket. “Just do your best. We know you’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll swing by to get it later.”

  “Thanks for your cooperation. It’s appreciated,” Dylan added.

  “Sure. Any time. I got nothing to hide.”

  Cookie nodded in acknowledgement before they walked away, and she sighed when they got to the front of the restaurant, because leaving without seeing Daisy one more time wasn’t going to happen. They had a to-go order to pick up.

  The door creaked when Dylan pushed it open for Cookie to walk inside. Daisy was at the hostess stand, and as they approached she held out a bag and asked sarcastically, “Do I still have a dishwasher, or is he in cuffs?”

  “He’s back at work,” Dylan said.

  “Good.” She squinted at Cookie as Dylan pulled money out of his wallet. “Told you it was a waste of time.”

  Cookie knew she should ignore the jab, but a reply just fell out of her mouth. “We don’t know that yet.”

  Daisy’s jaw dropped, and steam practically came out of her ears. She glanced around the restaurant and must have thought better of causing a scene because she closed her mouth and crossed her arms. Fortunately, she didn’t have to control herself for long, because Dylan said, “Keep the change,” and grabbed Cookie’s arm to lead her out of the restaurant before Daisy snapped.

  Cookie did him one better and looped her arm in his while they walked. Daisy may have had her claws in Dylan at one point, but he was with Cookie now. She glanced over her shoulder at Daisy and said, “Thank you.” And she meant it.

  13

  Once they were a few buildings down the street from the Salty Dog, Dylan said, “That was a waste of time. Poor Johnny was pretty rattled.”

  “Poor Johnny?” Cookie was still irritated with Dylan for wanting to accept Daisy’s word on the dishwasher. “He’s a felon. Not some kitten Daisy rescued. We had to question him, Dylan. It’s our job.”

  “And make him write down his whereabouts complete with people to verify his alibi? You don’t seriously think he did it, do you?”

  “Hard to tell.”

  “Wow.” Dylan let out a noise of disgust. “I suppose I should be flattered how much Daisy gets to you.”

  “This has nothing to do with her,” Cookie retorted. But she wondered if maybe she had gone a bit too far with her demands of Johnny. Cookie shook her head, because it was always better to ask too much than too little. Even so, she could offer Dylan an olive branch. “Tell you what. I’ll check in with Hunter to see what Johnny’s parole officer had to say. Okay?”

  “Whatever you say, boss.” Dylan said with an icy-cold tone, and the two of them finished their walk back to the inn without speaking.

  Clouds had rolled in and the warmer temperatures of midday were gone. Cookie wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill when they got to the inn. Dylan was too close to Daisy to see the situation for what it was, but she didn’t like the tension the interaction had caused between herself and Dylan.

  She was about to try to fix things when Dylan said, “I’ve got some errands to run. I’ll catch up to you later.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over Cookie’s briefly before he left her standing at the steps to the porch.

  As his truck engine sputtered to life, Cookie scowled. She knew she shouldn’t have let Daisy make her so jealous, and now that she replayed the scene at the Salty Dog in her mind, she realized that no matter what Dylan’s bias was when it came to Daisy, Cookie definitely hadn’t handled the situation very well.

  Cookie held a hand in a wave to Dylan, and perhaps a peace offering too before he drove away. She let out a big sigh. Her life was so much less complicated when she was partners with Hunter. But she smiled wryly, because she’d still choose Dylan over Hunter any day.

  Cookie’s feet thudded up the steps and over the porch when she went to the kitchen in search of something to snack on to help shake her bad mood. Dylan had taken the to-go order they’d gotten at the Salty Dog when he left so abruptly. When she got there, she found Scarlett sipping on a cup of tea. Her usual perfectly-styled look was a bit rough around the edges as stray hairs fell from her ponytail in a less than purposeful way. “The posse is running you ragged.” Cookie said.

  “You got that right,” Scarlett replied. “The water’s still hot if you want to join me.”

  “That depends. Are you drinking anything to help with the regret of foolish actions?”

  Scarlett chucked. “No. This is straight-up Earl Gray.”

  “Probably for the best.” Cookie grabbed an oversized mug and dropped a tea bag in before she added hot water. Steam curled up as honey squirted from the bottle when she squeezed it. “I may have had a tiny jealous moment over Daisy earlier.”

  “The tiny ones are always the worst,” Scarlett said with a grin.

  “Right?” Cookie fell into a chair across from her best friend. “I’m a terrible person. Who gets Daisy worked up?”

  “Daisy got mad?”

  “Yup. I pushed her buttons big time just because I could. Dylan and
I were there to interview the dishwasher about the murder, and she got protective. Here she is giving the kid a second chance at a good life, and I was throwing his record in his face, being a forceful investigator.”

  Scarlett’s fingers were cool on Cookie’s arm. “You are not a bad person, and you would have had to question him no matter what, right?”

  “True, but I could have been a bit more tactful with Daisy about it. Why do I let her get to me like that?”

  “Extreme emotions can be tough to handle properly. Especially ones we’re not used to having. When have you even felt this strongly for a man?”

  Cookie’s thoughts turned to Dylan, and she saw his smile as she heard his deep voice in her mind. She envisioned the way his eyes sparkled with mischief more often than not and let out a dreamy sigh. She was head-over-heels in love. “Never.”

  “Then there’s a lot you could lose. But you’re going to have to find a way to cap your jealousy over Daisy. Dylan is just as in love with you as you are with him. Trust it.”

  Scarlett is right, thought Cookie, there is a lot to lose. Which is why the murder of Simon, a DeMasi man who may have been here to kill her, needed to be solved as quickly as possible. Even if Cookie was afraid of what else she might find out. Perhaps the fear that she and Rain might have to leave the island and go into hiding somewhere else was what was making her crazy. No matter what was making her act insane, though, she knew Dylan didn’t deserve her jealous outbursts, and she had to find a way to make them stop.

  Cookie smiled at her friend. “Thanks. Next time I’ll have better control.”

  “Scarlett!” Rain cried from the hallway before she got to the kitchen. “We have a problem,” she said as Cookie blinked at the vision before her. Rain was wearing a skin-tight black jumpsuit that covered almost every bit of skin save her hands, feet, and head. It might have been powerful undergarments, or strategic power-stretch fabric, but Rain looked amazing showing off an hourglass figure most women her age didn’t have. And it reminded Cookie where she got her curves.

 

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