Knocking on Death's Door

by Lucy Quinn

  Dylan had a point, and although DeMasi hadn’t done anything else to let Cookie know he was watching her, she wasn’t ready to believe with one hundred percent certainty that DeMasi didn’t know of her whereabouts. Her gut was telling her the second option seemed more likely. Still, she liked to cover all bases, so she said, “Let’s work with option one. I think our next step should be to figure out who would have access to the dump if they didn’t live here.”

  “Anyone who wanted to,” Dylan said.

  “Don’t you need a permit?” Scarlett asked.

  To access the junkyard section of the dump by car, one had to drive through the transfer station and continue on past it to a dirt road that led to the field. While curbside garbage pickup was available by a private company on the small island, the dump was what most people used for their trash.

  Cookie had discovered the transfer station was also a social outing for many of the island residents. There were modern receptacles for recycling, composting and hazardous materials, but where the action happened was a swap shop for items that were still functional. As Cookie had learned over the few weeks she and Rain had dropped off old items from the inn, Secret Seal Isle’s residents enjoyed a good chit chat about what showed up and what was going home with a new owner.

  “You do need a permit,” Cookie said. “But I’ve never had anyone check to see if I had my sticker on my windshield. Fergus is too busy holding court in the swap shop.”

  Dylan chuckled. “You’re right about that. But we should probably stop by and ask him a few questions anyway.”

  Scarlett scowled. “I was out there taking pictures a while back, and I recall there was one other way to access the junkyard. There’s a dirt road that must have been used at one time, but now it’s pretty overgrown. I think I took a picture of it.” She lifted her folder of images to open it just as Rain let out a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush.

  Cookie jumped at the sound of something thudding on the wall and then clattering on the floor. “Oh boy,” she said as she stood up to go find out what was going on with Dylan close behind her.

  Cookie stopped in the doorway to the kitchen when she saw the floor was littered with chocolates, and Rain was slouched down in the corner leaning against the cabinets in defeat. “Mom?”

  Rain lifted her head from her hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” She waved her hand. “Try one.”

  Cookie glanced at the floor, wondering if eating off of it was a good idea. “Umm,” she said as Dylan squatted down to grab one.

  “There are some on the counter,” Rain said, and Cookie let out a sigh of relief as she picked her way through the confections to get to the chocolates Rain was talking about.

  Cookie lifted a chocolate and inspected it. “It looks okay.” She sniffed it.

  “Don’t be such a chicken, big-time FBI agent. Taste it.”

  Cookie frowned at Rain whose foul mood was beginning to worry her. And then she took a bite of the candy. Rich chocolate flavor hit her tongue before it made way to sweet caramel. Considering Cookie had expected something awful, it was surprisingly tasty. “That’s pretty good.”

  “Yep,” Dylan said as he licked his fingers.

  “I know,” Rain said.

  “I don’t understand.” Cookie grabbed another chocolate. “What’s the problem then?”

  “The problem is that it’s supposed to be to-die-for amazing.” Rain grunted as she lifted herself up off the floor. “Not just pretty good.”

  “Well, Mom, it’s not like everything you make has to—oh! This is supposed to Henri’s secret recipe. Right?”

  “Exactly. This is the third batch I’ve made, and I’m beginning to think I can’t follow directions.”

  “He did write them down rather quickly for you. Maybe he left out an ingredient.”

  Rain straightened out her spine as her eyes narrowed. “Or he left one out on purpose.” She let out a huff as she worked herself into a familiar frenzy that let Cookie know her mother would be just fine. After flinging a storage closet door open, Rain grabbed a broom and began to sweep the candy into a pile on the floor. “Did you notice how shifty his eyes are? And I’m not so sure he’s French. I think it’s an act to sell more chocolate.”

  Cookie retrieved the metal baking sheet as she thought about the strange accent Henri had. “I’m not sure he’s out to deceive you, but you may be right about his French background,” she said as the pan thudded on the counter when she set it down.

  “Of course I’m right,” Rain said as she swept harder. “Henri’s act stinks more than a slice of Roquefort.” She stopped moving and glared at Cookie and Dylan. “You know what? I’m not going to put up with this.” She thrust the broom toward Cookie, forcing her to take it. “I’m going to go give that little conniving imposter a piece of my mind.”

  “Mother,” Cookie warned as the vision of Rain in chains flashed in her mind. “Hold on a minute. I’d like to remind you that physical contact with the intention to harm is called assault.”

  “Cookie, Cookie, Cookie.” Rain sighed as she removed her apron and began to fold it neatly. “I’m not an idiot.” She reached up and smoothed down her hair then stuck her hand in her bra to hoist up one breast and then the other. “I know you catch more flies with honey.” Rain tugged on her shirt to make the neckline plunge lower. “And I plan to ooze honey. Right up until the part where Henri tells me the secret ingredient. And then—”

  Cookie and Dylan jerked back as Rain swung out her leg in a roundhouse kick that didn’t connect.

  “Whoa!” Dylan cried out.

  “Jeez, Mom!” Once she recovered from her shock, Cookie understood why Ned had shackled Rain’s ankles after all. “Wow. You really do have amazing flexibility.”

  “Impressive,” Dylan added.

  Rain said, “It’s the yoga. I wish I’d been doing it when I was kickboxing.”

  Cookie flashed back to her teen years and saw a vision of Rain in camouflage workout gear and a strip of torn fabric tied around her forehead, Rambo-style. “I remember your kickboxing phase, and your moves are very good. But please, for the love of all things sweet—”

  Rain interrupted. “Can we say spicy?”

  “What?”

  “Spicy. For the love all things spicy, because when it comes to me—” Rain pumped her eyebrows at her daughter making Dylan snort before he covered his mouth to stop his laughter.

  Cookie let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, Mom. For the love all things spicy, please do not cause Henri bodily harm. Promise me.”

  Rain held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.” She glanced around the kitchen, already grabbing the door knob as she asked, “Be a dear and finish cleaning this up for me?” She tugged it open. “Thanks. Bye!” she said, and she left before Cookie could refuse.

  Scarlett’s heels clicked on the tile floor as she entered the kitchen. “Is it safe yet?”

  Dylan chuckled. “The hurricane formerly known as Rain has left the building.”

  “What was the problem?” Scarlett asked.

  Water rushed into a mop bucket as Cookie filled it, and she shook her head, too exasperated to explain. “Nothing Rain can’t solve.”

  Scarlett eyed the mess as she reached under the sink to grab cleaning spray. “What’s up with the candy in the garbage?”

  “Chocolate recipe gone bad.” Dylan said. “Apparently the most important ingredient was missing.”

  “Ah,” Scarlett said as she began to wipe down the counter. “I can see where that would niggle at Rain.”

  Dylan moved chairs for Cookie so she could mop the floor. “You look nice, Scarlett,” he said. “Might it be because a certain someone is coming to the island today?”

  Cookie gave herself a mental head slap. Hunter was coming to get Keith and Alex, and she’d bet her bottom dollar that Hunter had called to give Scarlett a heads-up. That was exactly why she wanted to look nice.

  “I don’t know what you could mean
,” Scarlett said coyly.

  Cookie found herself feeling genuinely surprised. Not only because she hadn’t figured out what Scarlett was up to, but also because the only thing she felt about her best friend being with her former partner was joy. Joy that two people she cared about might find happiness together. She said, “Well if you did, then you might want to know he’ll be here around noon. And you might also want to know that Hunter doesn’t like to work on an empty stomach.”

  “If I did know what you’re talking about, then you might want to know that I already have lunch plans with an old friend of yours from the FBI,” Scarlett said smugly.

  “You’re going to knock him dead.” Dylan chuckled and then added, “Probably not the best choice of words, huh?”

  Scarlett and Cookie laughed at his lame joke as they finished cleaning the kitchen. When the last of the cleaning supplies were put away, Scarlett turned serious. “Listen, this may be nothing, but I looked through some pictures I took of the junkyard, and I found something I think you two should see.” She led Cookie and Dylan back to the living room where photos were spread out over the coffee table.

  A picture rustled when Scarlett picked it up. “Before the parade, I took some photos of the Chrysler for the website since Rain insisted you were going to win, and while looking them over I noticed this.” She held the picture out to Dylan and Cookie. “Doesn’t that guy look an awful lot like Henri? The guy who opened up the chocolate shop in town?”

  Cookie squinted at the slightly blurry man in the background of the image. He was right next to the bright yellow Chrysler. “He sure does.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but Henri didn’t participate in the parade, right?” Scarlett said. “The chocolate shop had just opened.”

  Cookie’s wide eyes darted from Scarlett to Dylan. “The accent!”

  “The recipe!” Dylan started moving toward the door.

  “What’s going on?” Scarlett asked.

  Cookie was hot on his heels as they both yelled, “Rain!”

  24

  Dylan fired up the truck as Cookie got in the vehicle and pulled the door hard, slamming it shut as they were moving down the road. Dirt and gravel flew up behind them, leaving a cloud of dust as Dylan pressed the pedal to the metal, and they arrived with a screeching halt in front of the chocolate shop just a couple minutes later.

  Cookie shoved her door open to jump out and nearly toppled over poor Pam Stevens, an elementary school teacher she’d had dealings with on a previous case. “Whoa,” she said, grabbing Pam’s arm to steady her. Cookie realized it wouldn’t do anyone any good to cause a scene, so as the older woman stood, still blinking in shock, Cookie said the first thing she could think of as an excuse for her rush. “Chocolate emergency.”

  Dylan practically pushed Cookie into the shop as he said to Pam, “Trust me, you don’t want to see what she’ll turn into if we wait another minute.”

  Pam’s eyes twinkled with laughter as she placed a hand on her round stomach. “Trust me. I do understand. Carry on.”

  The moment Dylan and Cookie got inside they noticed the place was empty. “Mom!” Cookie called out anyway.

  Dylan walked over to look behind the counter when a soft thud came from the back of the shop. “Did you hear that?” he asked in a whisper.

  Cookie nodded as the two of them moved quickly and as silently as possible toward the noise. On the back wall was a door. Flanking it, they pressed their backs to the wall, and Dylan reached for the knob while Cookie held her gun at the ready.

  Dylan lifted up his index finger to indicate a count of one. As he raised his second digit, the door burst open, nearly hitting Cookie in the nose before she put out a hand to stop it.

  “I’m here!” Henri cried out as he emerged. His hair was standing on end, and chocolate was smeared on his face as well as his white chef’s jacket. He scowled at Dylan and his shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Tis you.”

  “And me,” Cookie said as she stepped out from behind the door, tucking her gun into the back of her pants and then tugging on her shirt to make him think she was adjusting her clothing. She noticed what appeared to be a handprint of chocolate on Henri’s shoulder, but she averted her eyes quickly so as not to give her suspicion away. “Have you seen my mother?”

  Another thud sounded, and it was quickly followed by Henri coughing. He took both Dylan and Cookie by the arm and walked them forward. “Zee Rain…” He let out the fakest laugh Cookie had heard in a long time. “She comes. She pours. No?”

  “Something like that,” Dylan muttered as he yanked his arm out of Henri’s grasp.

  Cookie didn’t bother to speak as she pulled away and headed for the door Henri had emerged from. When she opened it, the sight she saw make her do a double take.

  Two big blue eyes blinked, then peered out of a face that was completely covered in chocolate. The eyes belonged to Rain, who was gagged and submerged in a large vat of chocolate to mid-chest.

  The thud Cookie and Dylan heard earlier was repeated in a much quicker succession as it rang out loudly. It was then Cookie realized Rain’s hands must’ve been restrained behind her back, and she was knocking on the side of the metal silo, desperate for someone to help her.

  Grunts sounded from behind Cookie, and she turned to find Dylan had Henri’s hands behind his back. She heard the familiar hum of a zip tie. “Where’d you get that?” Cookie asked.

  Dylan grinned at her. “You’re not the only one with deep pockets.”

  She smiled as she thought about what a great team the two of them made. She still couldn’t get over how quickly they’d become the kind of partners who could predict each other’s moves. And she wasn’t talking about just police procedure. The sudden warmth of love for Dylan filled her, but it was quickly replaced by dread. If she had to leave the island he was going to be the one thing she missed most.

  Another loud thud made Cookie turn her thoughts back to Rain. “Hold on, Mom,” she said as she reached to pull the gag out of Rain’s mouth.

  Rain sputtered before she took a deep breath. “Henri’s

  insane, Cookie!” She tilted her head at shelving on the wall. “He’s no French chocolatier. He’s a bad impression of Betty Crocker.”

  Cookie saw the shelves were stacked with boxes and boxes of a common grocery store brand of chocolates.

  “I can explain everything! It’s not how it looks!” cried out Henri with an accent Cookie knew all too well. It was an accent that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Slightly twangy. Slightly slurred. Henri sounded just like one of DeMasi’s men.

  She squinted her eyes at Henri. “Start talking.”

  “Hey!” Rain called out, and the metal vat vibrated with her swift kick causing liquid chocolate to splash. “Think you can get me out of here first? It’s getting a little warm in here!” Rain smacked her lips as she tasted the sweet confection that landed on her mouth.

  She let out a moan. “Oh my god.”

  “Mom?”

  Rain lowered her mouth to the chocolate and lapped up more.

  “Mother!”

  “Shhh, I’m having a moment here.”

  Cookie looked at Dylan, and Henri shrugged. “That’s the good stuff. The only thing left of—” Henri let out a gasp as tears filled his eyes, “—my sweet pookie-lookie’s… final batch.” A sob broke free from Henri, and he turned to lay his head on Dylan’s shoulder as his body shook with his crying.

  Dylan patted the man’s shoulder and looked at Cookie in confusion.

  “Pookie—” Cookie shook her head. “Who?”

  Henri lifted up his head and gazed at Cookie with tears streaming down his face. He swallowed hard before he said, “Henri. The real chocolatier.”

  “See?” Rain said with a mouth full of chocolate. She gulped it down and added, “told you he wasn’t the real deal. And to think I exchanged air kisses with you! I thought you were Andy DePaul’s nephew who had trained in Switzerland.” She glared at the
man posing as Henri as best she could, considering her face was covered in hardened chocolate that resembled a beauty mask. “You’re nothing but a fraud!”

  Henri, well, the Henri imposter, hung his head. “Oui.” He glanced up. “But I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Don’t give me that line,” Rain chided. “Lying is most definitely a choice. And oui? You can stop pretending you’re French now.”

  The man looked at her with a sheepish grin before he spoke in his normal voice. “Sorry. It’s addicting. You know how when you hang out with people from the south and you pick up their accent?”

  “I do!” Rain said as she bounced a little in the vat. “There was this one time when I was on tour with a country western band, and—”

  “Really, Mom?” Cookie asked, knowing Rain was about to tell a whopper of a lie herself.

  “Well…” Rain leaned toward the man and spoke as if she were sharing a secret. “The term they used for me was groupie, but same difference. Anyway, the bass guitarist—”

  “Ah-hem,” Dylan said, interrupting. “I’m sure that’s quite the story, Rain, but I’d rather hear why this man is pretending to be Henri.”

  Cookie shot Dylan a thankful look. “Yes. Me too.”

  Rain let out a sigh and sunk a little lower in her chocolate to lap up more.

  “Fine. I’ll tell you everything, because honestly, life without Henri is”—The man’s voice cracked—“miserable.” Fresh tears flowed down his cheeks for a moment before he swiped a sleeve across his face and sucked in a breath, forcing them to stop.

  “I find the best way to fess up is to just spit it out,” Rain said. “Like ripping off a ban—”

  Dylan held up his hand. “Rain.”

  “Jeez, you’ve been hanging out with Cookie way too long. Believe me, she can make the loosest of gooses—”

  “Mom!” Cookie was about ready to put the gag back in her mother’s mouth, but she turned her attention to the man before them instead. “Go on.”