Chapter 27

It might be late on Halloween night, but I'm not headed back to Honey Hollow.

Instead, I stop off at an all-night donut shop and pick up a box of the best crullers you ever did see just this side of Lottie's bakery. Half vanilla glazed, half chocolate glazed.

In no time at all, Watson and I are striding into the Ashford County Sheriff's station.

Sure, I can't share the good news with Cooper that his head is off the chopping block, but I can share a box of donuts with him without having to pretend I'm not looking for an opportune time to send him into tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow, I might have to stop by Grimstone and hand Nona Jo a box of crullers as well. It's safe to say, I owe her big time—so does Cooper—and maybe our future children.

The sheriff's department is teeming with bodies. It's about an even split between drunken men and women in really bad costumes—we're talking trash bags with duct tape for the men and lots of fishnet stockings for the women. Either that or the sheriff's department has a run of serial killers and prostitutes. Come to think of it, it's probably the latter.

I spot Noah Fox up front and I head his way.

"Effie." He sheds a dimpled grin before giving Watson a pat. "What are the two of you doing here?"

"I thought I'd visit Coop and spread some carbohydrate-laden cheer," I say, opening the box. "They're not Lottie's, but they're still delicious. Take one," I offer and he promptly does.

"Thank you," he says, toasting me with the confection. "Coop's in his office. Tonight's a busy one. You know what they say, the freaks come out at night."

"And on Halloween night, you can double that," I say and we both share a quick laugh before parting ways.

Watson leads me straight to Cooper's office, his stomping grounds when he's not with me.

The door is ajar and I give a light knock before peering inside. "Hello?" I call out. It's dimly lit by a small lamp on his desk, but there's no sign of Cooper.

The office is big and has the potential to be bright when the overhead fluorescent lights are on full blast, but seeing they put out as much luminosity as the sun, I don't blame him for not turning them on.

I head in and land the donuts on his desk. I'm about to pull out my phone and let him know I'm here when I spot that suspect board in front of me.

Situated right behind Cooper's desk is a whiteboard that spans ten feet wide with pictures of all of the jobs I've been given from the time I took the job as a hitwoman for my uncle. I've seen it before. Cooper let me know a while back that it was his responsibility to track down the common factor that befell all of these men. He highly suspects there's a mob connection in there somewhere, and boy is he right.

I make my way around the desk to give it a gander and inspect all of the men with their names and locations of the maimings, since none of them resulted in death. I'll admit, it makes me chuckle. There's even a smidge of pride as I take it all in.

A photo in the upper right catches my eye and it's startlingly out of place. It's a picture of Cooper.

Why in the world would he put his own picture on the board? He's the investigator.

Unless…

Something soft and furry seems to be lining the board, and the closer I get I can see it's a series of strings, blue yarn to be exact, that's connecting all of the familiar faces dotting the board and they all lead to one central location in the middle.

I take a few steps in that direction, only to find a grainy-looking picture of a woman's face in the dead center of the melee.

And once the image comes into focus I gasp.

It's me!

Footfalls echo from behind and I turn to see Cooper standing there with his hands in his pockets.

He nods my way and offers a sober smile. "Happy Halloween."

My mouth falls open, but not a sound comes out.

Something tells me things are about to get very, very scary.

**

Thank you so much for reading Double Double Recoil Trouble.