Chapter Ten

Jamie knew she needed to talk to Cookie alone, to have the one conversation she would have done almost anything to avoid. Still emotionally raw from her confrontation with Brian earlier that morning, Jamie wished for an afternoon by herself with nothing more than a few beers and her research notes. Her instinct to retreat pulled strongly, but her loyalty to Cookie took priority. He deserved to know the truth because his life and Kristen’s were intertwined. He just didn’t know it yet. It was up to Jamie to connect the dots and make sense of the way her niece’s life and his brother’s life crossed in a most cruel manner.

She’d asked Cookie to meet her for an afternoon scuba dive, her strategy to cover difficult territory against the comforting backdrop of Gulf waters.

“You ready to go?” Jamie asked as she stood at the edge of the pier, watching Cookie steer his pride and joy, a fishing vessel he’d named Sweet Mama after his sweet mama. Sweet Mama was a bay boat that he used for fishing, diving, and impressing new girlfriends.

It wasn’t a spectacular vehicle, but he’d bought a lot of boat for his buck thanks to the weak economy and a glut of fishing vessels on the market. The saying “The two best days in a man’s life are when he buys a boat and when he sells it” worked in his favor. He understood the time and attention boating life required. Unlike many who found maintenance to be a hassle, he found comfort in the necessity of it. It also proved to be a place of respite. Cookie retreated to his floating haven whenever he needed to think things through.

Jamie had counseled Cookie that he would never find a wife as long as he was so attached to his mother and his boat, but Cookie believed the trio to be a package deal. Jamie had a private bet with Erin on how long Cookie would remain a male spinster. Of course, men could have children well into their sixties, so his biological clock wasn’t a factor.

Jamie figured her own clock was broken. She had no maternal instincts, and although she actually liked kids, she never would have sought out their company or admitted her affection out loud. She thought it best that her lineage die out. Being an aunt, lousy as she was at the job, had been the closest she would get to such a role.

“Is my gear on board?” Jamie asked as she stepped over the side of the boat, the water shifting enough to keep her off balance.

“Got everything. Checked the tanks, and we’re good to go.” Cookie took note of Jamie’s faded orange T-shirt and jean shorts. “You got your suit and mask in that bag?”

She nodded. “You’re such a good dive wife, checking everything ahead of time.” She studied her friend in his water gear. Cookie was built like a linebacker and, at the moment, testing the limits of his wet suit. In spite of his size, he could remain neutrally buoyant, and in terms of skill, Jamie wouldn’t want to have anyone else as a partner. He was adept at moving underwater, being observant of the surroundings, and making sure they didn’t descend too far too quickly.

He pushed the gas handle forward and left the dock for the Gulf Coast. He nodded to a cooler tucked underneath the bench seat on the boat. “There’s beer in the cooler.”

“We’ll save that for after. No reason to dive stupid.”

“That’s what I meant,” Cookie replied, winking at her. “I’m not a bonehead novice.”

Too many accidents occurred when newbie scuba divers drank all afternoon then decided to spend a few hours in open waters. And drinking too much after surfacing was no smarter. Jamie and Cookie strictly adhered to one beer after a dive, and only after drinking water to combat the dehydration. They had heard enough horror stories from friends running diving charters that they knew not to take stupid risks.

They moved through the bay for a few minutes. Sweet Mama, under Cookie’s steady guidance, traveled at a slow and steady pace. This vessel was their private place, and they rarely brought anyone else with them on the boat save for a lady friend needing Jamie’s approval or other divers needing a lift out to open waters.

Cookie pushed his boat full speed ahead, and they braced themselves for a choppy ride. They counted four other boats on the water, likely hobby fishermen or winter Texans hoping to land a fish worthy of a good story. Cookie recognized most of the regulars by their boats and sometimes commented when something looked gossip-worthy. That day’s topic was Barney Martin, a local businessman who looked as though he’d taken the day off for some play. Cookie waved to him, taking note of the woman on board, a blonde wearing a black-and-white-striped sundress.

“I see that Mrs. Martin is off visiting her mother again. I wonder who he’s got covering at the store this time?”

Jamie couldn’t help but laugh. The island was a tough place to keep a low profile. The population ranked less than ten thousand locals and maybe another few thousand visitors on any given weekend.

“I hope it’s someone who can keep a secret, because it seems like Barney’s got a bunch of them,” Jamie replied.

“That man’s shameless. I don’t think he even tries to hide it anymore. I saw him liplocked at Studabakers with some touristy-looking chick. They were in the back corner booth behind the pool tables.”

“If he isn’t careful, maybe one day we’ll find his body floating somewhere out here.”

“I don’t think his wife cares, really,” Cookie replied. “I mean, she has to know, and he’s still walking around. Of course, she spends his money like a drunken sailor on leave. Who needs two Porsches on the island?”

Once they’d traveled a few miles out into the bay, free from the close company of other vessels, Cookie eased off the gas and let the boat idle. He surveyed the surrounding scenery. “This is all I need, you know that? I could spend all day, every day, out here—fishing, diving, coasting.”

“Well, it’s all you need ’til you get hungry and go running to your mom.”

Cookie nodded, hard-pressed to deny Jamie’s observation. “That’s true, but then I’d be right back out here.” He pointed to a small red cooler off to the side of the bench seat. “By the way, Mom sent fish tacos. We can eat after we come back up.” He reached with his right hand to put the boat in neutral. The roaring sound of the motor diminished to an idle. The clouds burned off, offering little shade against the intense sun. Jamie felt the weight of the pending conversation pressing down, the heat only upping the intensity. She could feel Cookie studying her face, trying to read her. They both knew the discussion of Kristen was necessary. She had told him little about what had happened, preferring to have the conversation in person.

“You want to tell me what happened?” he asked.

Jamie had planned on waiting until after the dive, wanting him to enjoy some time in the water before discussing what she had found. “It can wait, Cookie. Let’s dive first, and we can talk about it after.”

Jamie could tell Cookie’s bullshit radar pinged as soon as the words left her mouth. His eyebrows rose a notch, and his lips tightened. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it now? You don’t even have your suit on.”

She could feel his eyes studying her expression, and at that moment, she knew her poker face was nonexistent.

He pushed again. “I know this must be hard for you, Jamie, but you’ll feel better if you just talk about it.”

Cookie, like always, was looking out for her. She hated what would come next because she couldn’t protect him from the truth, nor should she. He would never forgive her if she kept something so important from him.

“It’s just that I found something, and you need to know because it involves you.”

The boat now drifted in waters twenty feet deep, according to the navigation system. There were no other boats nearby, although a stray vessel could be seen out in the distance.

Cookie extended his arm toward the water. “Just us out here in one of my favorite coves. No ears out here but the fish. And they don’t have ears, so we’re all good. Plus, if I betray your trust, you can hit me over the head and make me swim with the fishes.”

Godfather jokes were a staple in their relationship.

Jamie was tired of avoiding the topic. She had to come clean and prepare herself for Cookie’s reaction. He deserved to know.

She sat down on the small vinyl bench next to the boat’s wheel. “So, you know that we found Kristen with a syringe nearby, and we’re waiting to hear confirmation that she died of a drug overdose.”

Cookie remained standing but leaned back against the boat’s center panel, his arms crossed. “That’s what you said. I’m so sorry.” Cookie rubbed his eyes with his right hand, his thumb almost digging into the socket. “Do you think she overdosed? Or do you think it was a setup to cover something else?”

Jamie traced her finger along the ridges of the boat’s cushion, noticing its frayed edges and yellowing hue. She focused her attention on the stitching as she answered, not yet ready to meet his eyes.

“I don’t think she was on drugs. I think her death was a signal to someone, maybe even to Brian. He’s not telling me everything. Pretty sure I caught him in a lie.”

She sighed, clasping her hands together, her forearms resting on her knees, her eyes studying the boat’s floor. “I think she was murdered, but I don’t know that the police will rule any different from accidental overdose. On the surface, she looks good for it.”

Cookie reached over from his post, his arm outstretched to touch hers. “Must have been hard being the one to find her. I should have been there with you. You shouldn’t have had to do that alone.”

“I wanted to go alone, Cookie. That’s not on you. It was my decision. I had no idea I’d find her that way.” Her voice rippled with the beginnings of tears. “I was just going over there to yell at her for worrying everyone and wasting my time, and…”

Cookie leaned forward and hugged her tightly. Jamie allowed herself only a moment before she gently pushed away from his embrace, not wanting to completely fall apart.

She sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes with the heel of her palm. “So, there were a few things that didn’t add up for me when I found her. She didn’t have a bag or anything personal with her, which I thought was strange since she was supposed to be using this foreclosed house as a crash pad.”

Cookie nodded in agreement. “Never met a woman who doesn’t have something she carries all her stuff in. And men know better than to venture in there.”

Jamie appreciated her friend’s humor in the moment, short-lived as it would be. “I know, right? Here’s the thing, Cookie. She wasn’t wearing shoes, either.”

Cookie thought about it for a moment. “No shoes? You didn’t find them anywhere?”

“Nope.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Taking someone’s shoes makes it harder to run.”

“Exactly.”

“We know someone that does this.”

“Yes, we do. And it gets worse.”

“Like how much worse?”

Jamie sighed. She really didn’t want to say the words, but she pushed them out in a rush. “I found a two-dollar bill in her pocket.”

Cookie remained still, but Jamie could feel the tension in the arm that comforted her. His grip tightened, and his easy manner, full of compassion for Jamie’s loss, dissolved in the discovery that Kristen’s case and his brother’s were connected.

Cookie pushed himself from a leaning position and stood at attention. His words spilled out quickly as he realized what Jamie was trying to say. “How did Kristen get tied up with the likes of the Deltones? This is bad in a way that you don’t want to know. After what they did to my brother…”

Jamie rose from the boat bench and moved closer to her friend. His body was still partially covered by his wet suit. The top half was folded down and felt hot from the Texas sun.

“This isn’t your battle, Cookie. You didn’t sign up for this, and to be honest, when I started looking for Kristen, I thought she was pulling one of her disappearing stunts. This wasn’t anywhere on my radar. I had no reason to believe that she would be involved in something on this scale.”

Cookie watched the water in the distance. Jamie resisted the urge to crack a joke or break the silence. They both often hid behind dark humor, a survival technique necessary to deal with the painful realities of the cases they worked, but at that moment, she held her tongue. This one hit too close to home, for both of them.

Jamie waited for him to speak, and after what felt like an hour but was no more than a minute, he reached for his dive gear. He moved to sit on the end bench and kept his eyes trained on his tank. He was fidgeting, really. She knew from experience that Cookie had triple-checked his gear before getting on the boat. He was meticulous that way.

“That tank’s fine.”

He sighed. “I know it’s fine.” He kept his hand on the tank’s valve.

“Cookie, this isn’t your fight. You’ve finally put Manny’s death behind you…”

“I never put it behind me,” he corrected her. “The Deltones gunned down Manny, and now it looks like they’ve taken one of your family, too. This fight is mine, Jamie, whether you want my help or not. You know there’s no way I’m standing on the sidelines with this one.”

Cookie’s soft features hardened, a deep determination claiming his compassionate smile. He was a gentle soul until pushed too far, and having his little brother left on the beach to die had closed off a section of his soul. From what Jamie had heard, Manny’s demise was meant to serve as a warning to anyone who dared consider opposing the Deltone family and their rules, although Cookie’s family had never discovered why he had been targeted. Someone had placed a two-dollar bill in Manny’s pocket, a way of claiming responsibility for his death. The intimidation worked. It worked because the Deltones understood that killing a rival wasn’t nearly as powerful as killing a rival’s family member.

Jamie wished nothing more than to ease Cookie’s pain, but she understood that gift was not within her power. She sat next to him, placing her hand atop his, which was still holding the top of his dive tank.

“Cookie, Manny’s death took you down a dark path for a long time. I hated watching you walk away from some things that you really cared about, you know? That rage, that anger, it swallowed you whole.”

“I appreciate your being there for me, Jamie. I know that was hard on you, too.”

She dismissed the comment. “It wasn’t hard on me. It was hard on you, and I don’t want to drag you back into that again. I don’t want you to feel that you have to go there again, out of loyalty or anything else. I can handle it.”

“First of all, you aren’t as tough as you think you are,” Cookie said. “I mean, you’ve got a mouth that can talk your way out of anything, but your fight skills suck.”

“I have a gun, Cookie. And I’m a damn good shot.”

“Yes, but the Deltones are all about surprise. You won’t have your gun when you need it. Trust me. You need me if you’re going to find out what happened to Kristen and what she was mixed up in, where she fit in his world.”

“I know I need you, Cookie. I just don’t want to need you.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you don’t have a choice. You aren’t dragging me into anything. You know I still want my shot at bringing down their operation. I just needed a reason, and now I have one.”

The pair sat silently together, watching the waves ripple and reflect the sun’s rays.

Jamie’s mind was lost in thoughts of revenge or justice; she hardly cared which.