I smoothed my abused hair and scanned the interior of the trunk. The dead guy looked as though he’d been homeless when he was alive. He lay huddled in an embryonic position, not paying attention to either of us as we stood over him. Which was odd, since I was supposed to be bright and sparkly. Light of a thousand suns and all. My presence, at the very least, should have elicited a nod of acknowledgment. But he was giving me nothing. Zero. Zip. Zilch. I sucked at the whole grim reaper thing. I totally needed a scythe.
“This is not going to work,” I said as I tried to figure out where one bought farming equipment. “And where could we possibly be going at two o’clock in the morning that requires me to ride in the trunk of a car?”
She reached through the dead guy and snatched a blanket then slammed the lid closed. “Fine, get in the back, but keep your head down and cover up.”
“Cookie,” I said, taking a firm hold of her shoulders to slow her down, “what is going on?”
Then I saw them. Tears welling in her blue eyes. Only two things made Cookie cry: Humphrey Bogart movies and someone close to her getting hurt. Her breaths grew quick and panicked, and fear rolled off her like mist off a lake.
Now that I had her attention, I asked again. “What is going on?”
After a shaky sigh, she said, “My friend Mimi disappeared five days ago.”
My jaw fell open before I caught it. “And you’re just now telling me?”
“I just found out.” Her bottom lip started to tremble, causing a tightness inside my chest. I didn’t like seeing my best friend in pain.
“Get in,” I ordered softly. I took the keys from her and slid into the driver’s seat while she walked around and climbed into the passenger’s side. “Now, tell me what happened.”
She closed the door and wiped the wetness from her eyes before starting. “Mimi called me last week. She seemed terrified, and she asked me all kinds of questions about you.”
“Me?” I asked in surprise.
“She wanted to know if you could … make her disappear.”
This had bad written all over it. In bold font. All caps. I gritted my teeth. The last time I’d tried to help someone disappear, which was pretty much last week, it ended in the worst way possible.
“I told her whatever her problem was, you could help.”
Sweet but sadly overstated. “Why didn’t you tell me she’d called?” I asked.
“You were in the middle of a case with your uncle and people kept trying to kill you and you were just really busy.”
Cookie had a point. People had been trying to kill me. Repeatedly. Thank goodness they didn’t succeed. I could be sitting there dead.
“She said she would come in and talk to you herself, but she never showed. Then I got this text a little while ago.” She handed me her phone.
Cookie, please meet me at our coffee shop as soon as you get this message.
Come alone. M
“I didn’t even know she was missing.”
“You own a coffee shop?” I asked.
“How could I not know?” Her breath hitched in her chest with emotion.
“Wait, how do you know she’s missing now?”
“I tried calling her cell when I got the message, but she didn’t pick up, so I called her house. Her husband answered.”
“Well, I guess he would know.”
“He freaked. He wanted to know what was going on, where his wife was, but the message said come alone. So, I told him I would call him as soon as I knew something.” She bit her lower lip. “He was not a happy camper.”
“I’ll bet. There aren’t many reasons a woman wants to disappear.”
She blinked at me in thought before inhaling so sharply, she had to cough a few moments. When she recovered, she said, “Oh, no, you don’t understand. She is very happily married. Warren worships the ground she walks on.”
“Cookie, are you sure? I mean—”
“I’m positive. Trust me, if there was any abuse in that relationship, it was to Warren’s bank account. He dotes on that woman like you wouldn’t believe. And those kids.”
“They have kids?”
“Yes, two,” she said, her voice suddenly despondent.
I decided not to argue with her about the possibility of abuse until I knew more. “So, he has no idea where she is?”