Knocking on Death's Door Read online

  “Henri and I met when I got out of prison. He took pity on an ex-con and hired me to do deliveries.” The man’s expression turned dreamy as a small smile formed on his face. “We fell in love so fast. It was magical. We both came from tragic pasts. Henri was a troubled kid. He had a few scrapes with the law until a confectioner took him under his wing and taught him all he knew. He came to America to realize his dream of being a famous chocolatier. And he found me. We found each other.”

  Rain let out a sigh but sucked in her lips when both Cookie and Dylan shot her a warning glare.

  “Henri’s the reason I kept my nose clean,” the man said. "There was a lot of pressure from my old boss to get back into the family business. And he doesn’t exactly take no for an answer, if you know what I mean. Besides, the money was good. Better than working some counter job at the deli. But it was wearin’ on our relationship. We fought. A lot.” He let out a noise of disgust. “A hell of a lot. I was sure Henri was going to leave me. We heard his uncle here on the island had been arrested and his stationery shop had closed, so when my parole was up and I knew we could move, I came up with the plan for us to come here. Secret Seal Isle. To start fresh where my past wouldn’t be an issue.”

  The man shook his head. “But for Henri, the damage was done. He said not to come. But I didn’t listen, you know? I followed him here and…”

  The man began to cry again. As tempting as it was to verbally fill in the blanks or push for more when a suspect stopped talking, Cookie refrained. Dylan did too. But Rain couldn’t take the suspense. She leaned forward and blurted, “What happened?”

  The guy glanced over at her. “Henri. He is—was small. He had the delicate face of an angel,” the man said in a soft voice. “And a delicate system. Fighting all the time was taking its toll on him. He wasn’t in his right mind when—”

  “The intestines are nothing to mess with,” Rain said. “Definitely a mood killer when it comes to hanky panky. Once I ate—”

  In unison Dylan and Cookie cried, “Rain!”

  She rolled her eyes at them like a petulant child but managed to stop talking.

  “So like I was sayin’, when he pulled out a gun to make me leave, I—” The man let out a groan. “I lost my temper and grabbed it. It went off before I realized what had happened.” His gaze darted between Cookie and Dylan. “It was an accident. I swear. I never would have killed the love of my life. Never!”

  His argument did sound convincing. “If it was an accident why didn’t you call the police?” Dylan asked.

  “With my record?” The man let out a huff. “Besides, even though I was heartbroken, what could I do? It occurred to me that since Henri had no family on the island since his uncle went to prison, and I’d snuck off without anyone knowing I was here, it was my chance to leave my past behind forever. I figured I could become Henri and nobody would ever know.”

  “Resourceful,” chimed in Rain. “But if you’re not Henri, then who are you?”

  “I am Simon Gallo.”

  “The man in the trunk of the Chrysler?” Rain asked in almost a shriek. It was entirely possible. Frankie hadn’t had a chance to run any DNA tests yet. Their entire theory was based off of picture-less identification.

  “That’s my sweet Henri.” Simon moaned.

  Rain looked at Cookie and Dylan, and her mouth formed a perfect O, making her chocolate face mask crack like the Sahara Desert. For once, Rain was speechless.

  25

  “Simon Gallo, you’re under arrest for the murder of Henri DePaul,” Cookie said. She proceeded to read Simon his rights as Dylan untied Rain’s hands and helped her out of the vat of chocolate.

  As Cookie and Rain followed Dylan and Simon into the front of the shop, Rain’s feet squelched, leaving chocolate footprints behind. “What’s going to happen to him?” Rain asked Cookie in a whisper.

  “He’ll be prosecuted for murder,” Cookie said, slightly annoyed that Rain was asking a question with an obvious answer.

  “I know that. But it was an accident. A lover’s quarrel. Can you imagine?”

  “Imagine what?” While Cookie did have compassion for an argument gone wrong, the fact that Simon was so quick to take on the identity of Henri made her empathy wane.

  “Imagine losing the love of your life. Honestly, sometimes you are so cold, Cookie.” Rain said. “You just found out that Simon wasn’t here for you and that we’re perfectly safe from DeMasi. You get to stay here on Secret Seal Isle with the love of your life. Something poor Simon will never get to do. You should be jumping for joy. Dancing a jig. Stripping your man down to his birthday suit. But no, you’re still grumpy.”

  Simon turned around to look at Cookie. “You thought I was here for you? You know DeMasi?” Suddenly his jaw dropped. “I know where I’ve seen you before! You’re that agent!” Simon’s surprised expression turned to a wide grin, and if his hands hadn’t been zip-tied behind his back, he probably would have rubbed them together with glee. “I believe I have myself some useful information.”

  “Oh boy,” Rain said, pressing one hand to her chocolate-coated face. “Oops. Out of the frying pan and into the fire with this one, huh?”

  Cookie, who had actually not been grumpy before definitely was now. She glared at her mother. “Gee, I wonder how that happened?” But her mother was the least of her problems, or the reason she was upset. Simon knew who she was. And where she was. And that presented a very big problem.

  Dylan was clearly not happy about the new development either, because he yanked on Simon hard enough to make the man stumble. Dylan quickened his step, forcing the killer to nearly jog to keep up.

  Just before they reached the sheriff’s office, a black Mustang pulled up alongside them. When the tinted window lowered, Hunter grinned at them. “Rain,” he said. “Mud bath?”

  “Mud?” she quipped and then waved her hand as she cocked her hip out. “That’s so last year. Chocolate’s the rage these days.”

  Hunter laughed and then looked at Cookie with a serious expression. “Need some help?”

  Cookie felt a rush of relief. If anyone could help her figure out how to keep Simon Gallo from telling the mob her whereabouts, it would be Hunter. And while Dylan was certainly capable, the truth was Hunter had connections Cookie was going to need. “As a matter of fact, I do.” She tilted her head toward the sherriff’s office two doors down. “Meet me inside. We’ll talk there.”

  As luck would have it, when Cookie and her entourage got inside the office, June Loon was actually there. She was standing on a stool as Zeke stood beside her holding a measuring tape. Ned was on his knees, holding the hem of her skirt as if the two men were June’s tailors.

  “Well!” she exclaimed when Cookie and Rain came in. “Seems someone has taken entertaining tourists to a new extreme.” She pushed at the two officers and stepped off her stool to come over and give Rain a disapproving look. She tsked and then asked, “Mud wrestling, Rain? Really?”

  Rain just stood there, and the fact that she didn’t reply to June made Cookie look at her mother in confusion. She became alarmed when Rain began to sway. “Mom?”

  Rain let out a groan.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  “You know when they say you can never have too much of a good thing?” Rain asked.

  “Yes,” Cookie answered.

  “They were—” Rain bent over and retched loudly. Cookie managed to jump back before the contents of her mother’s stomach splattered all over the floor. And on June’s feet.

  “Agh!” June cried out. “Oh, disgusting!” She grimaced and pinched her nose as she stepped back. “Zeke! Ned! Help me!”

  “Are you okay?” Cookie asked Rain.

  Rain gave her a smile that made bits of chocolate flake off her face and fall like sprinkles. “Much better now.”

  “Someone needs to clean this mess up right now!” June ordered, tiptoeing backward away from the vomit. With each step, she left her own trail of regurgitated chocolate on the t
iled floor. The deputy started to shake dramatically as she clutched the wall and kicked out, trying and failing to dislodge her shoe from her right foot.

  “I’ll get the mop,” Ned said as he quickly moved to the back of the station.

  “Zeke! Do something about my shoes,” June Loon ordered the other officer.

  He held his hands up and shook his head. “Sorry. That’s way outside of my job description. Helping you take measurements for your talk show wardrobe was my limit.”

  “Talk show?” Rain exclaimed. “Everyone knows I’d be the better guest. I’ve led quite the interesting life before I landed here on the island. You know Penny Lane in Almost Famous? That was me in my younger days.” She tried to flip her hair, but the dried chocolate thwarted her effort.

  Cookie chuckled, knowing for once her mother was almost telling the truth. She hadn’t called herself a band aid, but she had been a bit of a groupie.

  Rain tried to work the chocolate out of her hair, but then gave up. She lightly ran her hands down the curve of her body and in a sly tone, she said, “My body dipped in chocolate is what I really should’ve been arrested for. Think of how that story will play on the local airwaves.” She turned back to Cookie and added, “I could plug the inn while I’m being interviewed. That would certainly fill rooms.”

  Cookie just blinked at the absurdity of the situation while June Loon let out a cry of distress as she kicked her soiled heels off. The left one flew in the air and hit Zeke in the rear end.

  Zeke gave her a death glare as he picked up a white sweater hanging on the back of a chair and wiped the vomit from the seat of his uniform.

  “That’s my sweater,” June wailed.

  “It’ll wash,” Zeke said coldly, clearly tired of Loon’s antics.

  Rain let out a cackle and quickly covered her mouth with both hands as Cookie nudged her with her elbow.

  “Rain,” Simon said, glancing back at Dylan, “she’s a hoot, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, real hoot,” Dylan said sarcastically as he wrinkled his nose at the mess she’d made. Then he nudged Simon forward. “Come on. There’s a cell in the back waiting for you while we finish your paperwork.”

  “No need to get push—whoa!” Simon, who’d just taken a step forward, managed to place his foot right in Rain’s vomit. His foot slid forward on the slick tile floor, and the man lost his balance, going down with the other leg high in the air. He fell hard, unable to break his fall since his hands were secured behind his back. A loud thwack reverberated through the office as the back of Simon’s head hit the tile.

  All the chatter stopped, and silence filled the office.

  Finally, Rain took a step forward and peered down at him. “Oh, my stars! He’s dead!” She turned to Dylan. “You killed him.”

  Cookie kneeled and quickly pressed her fingertips to his neck. The man’s pulse was strong beneath her touch. She let out a sigh of relief and glanced up at her mother. “He’s just unconscious.”

  Rain pressed her hand to her throat. “Thank goodness for that. You wouldn’t want to be dating a killer.”

  Cookie rolled her eyes as Dylan let out a groan behind her.

  June Loon made a gagging noise then bolted for the station’s small bathroom. The door slammed behind her and a moment later, water could be heard rushing from the faucet.

  The door swung open and the tall FBI agent from Philly walked in. Cookie glanced back at Agent Hunter O’Neil and just felt bone tired. It had been one heck of a long morning.

  Hunter’s eyebrows shot up. “Problem, Charlie?”

  She stood. “We need to call the paramedics. Simon here slipped and knocked himself out.”

  “Simon?” Hunter asked.

  She gave him a curt nod.

  “I’m on it,” Dylan said, already holding his phone to his ear.

  Cookie said. “He’s going to need a police escort. We’ve found our killer.”

  “Have you now,” Hunter said with a nod. “That’s good. Three criminals in one week. You have been busy.”

  “You have no idea,” Rain said, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, playing up the dramatics.

  “Mom.” Cookie let out a sigh. “Why don’t you have a seat while we get the paperwork started?”

  Rain glanced up at her daughter, her mouth forming a pathetic pout. It was a far cry from her flippant attitude only moments ago. “Do you really need me? I was hoping I could go home and shower and let Hale pamper me. I almost died today.”

  Cookie, who was used to mother’s dramatic mood swings, just shrugged. “It’ll only be a few minutes, and then you can go.” She glanced over at Zeke. “Think you can get her statement about what happened over at the chocolate shop?”

  “I’m on it,” the officer said.

  Rain raked her gaze down the officer’s body and smiled. “Oh, I didn’t realize I’d be giving my statement to you.”

  He held his arm out. “Come on, Ms. Forest. I’ll take care of you.”

  “I just bet you will,” she purred as she took his arm and let him lead her to a desk in the back.

  Ned materialized and started to clean up the mess around Simon.

  Hunter grabbed Cookie lightly by the elbow and pulled her back toward the front door. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Dylan, who’d stayed near Simon, was kneeling and checking on the man again.

  Cookie quickly ran through Simon and Henri’s history, Simon’s crime of passion, and how he had taken over Henri’s identity as a way to escape his past.

  “So this didn’t have anything to do with you and DeMasi’s crew?” Hunter asked, eyeing Simon, who was still lying motionless.

  “It didn’t until Rain outed us,” Cookie said.

  “You mean Simon didn’t even recognize you until Hurricane Rain blew your cover?” He frowned, and his dark eyes flashed with irritation.

  “She didn’t mean to,” Cookie said.

  Hunter shook his head. “She never does.”

  Cookie’s protective instinct took over. “What if he was in jail when he finally realized who I was? And then started talking? At least this way we’re alerted to the situation and can do something to keep it from getting out of hand.”

  Cookie shoved her hands into her jean pockets. “The only issue now is that Rain and I are definitely going to have to move,” she said, making up her mind as the words flowed out of her mouth. “We have no choice. He’s already threatening to turn us over to DeMasi unless we let him go.”

  Hunter turned to her, his eyes full of concern. “Does Dylan know?”

  Cookie felt her heart breaking in two as she shook her head. “Not yet, but he knows it’s a possibility.”

  “Damn, Charlie. You know I wish there was something I could do. But we both know no matter where Simon ends up, if he wants to put the word out about you and Rain, there’s no stopping him.”

  Cookie closed her eyes and nodded. She did know. Even if they sent Simon to a federal prison all the way on the west coast, there was no way to ensure that they could keep him quiet. It was too dangerous to stay. She opened her mouth to agree, but before she could get the words out, Dylan called for her. “Cookie, Simon’s awake.”

  She gave Hunter one last sad look, then walked across the room to stand next to Dylan.

  Simon blinked up at her and frowned. “Who are you?”

  26

  Cookie ignored Simon’s question and asked one of her own. “More importantly, do you know who you are?”

  He nodded, winced, then cleared his throat, and in his shockingly bad French accent, he said, “Henri. I’m zee new chocolatier.”

  “Right,” she said and raised her eyebrows as she met Dylan’s gaze. Leaning in, she whispered, “Is he for real, or is he pretending he doesn’t remember everything he told us today?”

  “As near as I can tell, this isn’t an act,” he whispered back.

  Cookie nodded. “Henri, do you know what day it is?”

  He frowned, concent
rating. “Non. Zorry. Iz so hard to keep da track when on izland time.”

  “Okay, then.” She’d have to go by events “When is the last time you saw my mother, Rain?”

  “Ah, oui!” he said, sounding triumphant. “Thiz evening when zee depooty asked me to vatch zhe and her friendz.”

  “That was yesterday,” Cookie said as she met Dylan’s eyes again. “He’s missing an entire day.”

  “It’s probably not permanent,” Hunter said, peering down at them.

  Cookie wanted to whack him in the shin. Of course, she knew his memory loss was likely just a temporary thing. She didn’t need him pointing it out. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  She rose just as Rain joined them.

  “I’m done,” her mother said. “And I’ve been caked in chocolate long enough that my pores are screaming. I’m out of here.”

  “Rain, my dhaling. What appened?” Simon asked from his spot on the floor.

  Rain scowled at him. “Give up the crappy accent, Simon. We’re all on to you.” Then without another word, she swept out the door, leaving a trail of dried chocolate flakes behind her.

  Simon sucked in a gasp and tried to sit up. “My name iz Henri!”

  Hunter laughed. “Nice try, buddy. Once we get your prints, I’m certain the records will tell another story.”

  Simon sputtered as he glanced around in panic.

  June Loon finally strode out of the bathroom. But instead of sticking around to find out any details about the circus in her station, she just kept right on walking toward the front door.

  “Deputy Loon?” Cookie called out. “Don’t you want to be briefed on the developments?”

  June Loon, holding the door open with one hand, glanced back at Cookie. “I have full confidence you have it from here, Ms. James. I’m headed home to clean up. Please leave a summary on my desk for my news conference later this afternoon. The public deserves to be informed about the rash of crimes here on the island and how their deputy is keeping them all safe.”

  The bell on the door chimed after she swept outside, and the door closed behind her.