First Star I See Tonight

  He greeted Coop effusively, which could mean either that he hadn’t yet figured out Coop had dumped a fake ring on him or that he was simply a good actor. Coop slapped him on the back a tad too hard but offset it with a cornpone grin and an Oklahoma drawl. “It sure is good to see you again, Yer Highness. This is a real nice dinghy you got.”

  The prince regarded him through creepy glasses tinted at the top but clear at the bottom. “As you can see, it’s no longer new.”

  “Sure looks good to me.”

  “You could not bring your friends with you?”

  “Naw. Robillard’s just had another kid, and Tucker’s off doing something with his wife.” Coop’s derisive tone telegraphed his disgust for any man who’d put a woman’s needs ahead of his own.

  “Unforgivable.” And then the prince chuckled. “Tell me, my friend. How did you find that little gift I gave you? Was she as sweet as you hoped?”

  It took Coop a moment to understand what he meant, and then his jaw set in a most unpleasant way. She shot forward before he erupted. “Your Highness,” she gushed. “I’m so honored to meet you.” She fingered her zebra-striped sarong in a semicurtsy that would almost surely have amused Coop if he weren’t so pissed off.

  The prince addressed her with a degree of arrogance that signaled he was doing her a favor by speaking to her at all. “Madam. I hope you’re finding my ship comfortable.”

  “Oh, yes. It’s really, really super awesome.”

  He returned his attention to Coop, already forgetting her existence. “Coop, sit with me. Our last visit was too short. Do you remember the Titans game where you fumbled on third-and-four? I was looking at the film, and it’s clear to me what you did wrong.”

  Piper wanted to take his head off, but her iron-willed lover had himself back under control, so she went over to join the girl-women.

  They were all legs and breasts, lithe and perfect, even without their heavy eye makeup, belly chains, and the elaborate manicures that left their hands as useless as the feet of aristocratic women had once been in China. They didn’t seem interested in talking to each other, but they responded to Piper’s conversational gambits.

  Two were from Miami and the third was Puerto Rican. One had recently graduated from high school, another was working on her GED, and the third had dropped out of college freshman year. They hadn’t known each other until three days ago, when one of the prince’s aides had spotted them on the beach and invited them to be the prince’s “guests” for the week, promising them each a thousand dollars a day for their time. All three cast envious gazes toward Coop. She could see their curiosity about how someone who was neither lithe nor perfect had managed to attract his attention.

  “We both like sports,” Piper said, as if that explained it.

  “I like sports,” the one named Cierra offered wistfully.

  “I thought it would be exciting being with a real prince,” the Puerto Rican beauty said, “but it’s kind of boring.”

  “He can’t get it up without porn,” the recent high school graduate and only brunette whispered.

  Piper didn’t want to hear the details of the odious prince’s sex life, and she decided to test the waters. “Coop seems to like him,” she lied. “He even gave him his Super Bowl ring.”

  The recent high school graduate rolled her eyes. “We know. He brags about it.”

  “Really?” Did that mean he hadn’t yet discovered it was a fake? Piper pretended to adjust her sunglasses. “He’s not wearing it. I guess it’s too heavy.”

  The girl shrugged.

  “He’s got small hands,” Cierra said.

  “Small everything,” the other blonde said.

  They laughed, as worldly wise as the most practiced courtesans.

  “He put it on my big toe,” Cierra announced. “Last night.”

  “I’ll bet it fit better than on his skinny finger,” the brunette said.

  “He told me he’s going to have it sized.” Cierra yawned. “Like I care.”

  Piper pretended to adjust her swimsuit straps. So, the Prince didn’t know it wasn’t the real thing. But the jeweler would as soon as he saw it, and he would certainly pass on that information.

  The girls had fallen silent again, and Piper tried to sort out her thoughts. If the prince thought the ring was genuine, he couldn’t be the person threatening Coop. But the fake ring was still a ticking time bomb. Coop should have bribed the guy some other way, but no. Coop believed he was invincible.

  She rose from the chaise. Wrapping her makeshift sarong around her waist, she wandered over to the men. She took pleasure in interrupting the prince’s lecture on how quarterbacks gave away the play by staring down the pass receiver, a mistake Coop had undoubtedly corrected before he’d left high school.

  Coop had his game face on. Just barely. She touched his shoulder. “I’m going to take advantage of the gym. I’ll see you later.”

  He regarded her suspiciously, but with lunch being laid in front of him, he couldn’t easily excuse himself to go with her.

  As soon as she was out of sight, she bypassed the gym and slipped up the steps. At the top, she ran into a uniformed crew member. She smiled, one more guest exploring the ship. “I can’t believe you get to work here. Everything is so beautiful.”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “Is there really a nightclub on the ship? That’s so amazing. I’d love to see it.”

  “On the third deck. I’ll show you the elevator.”

  “Oh, no. I can find it myself. I want to see the salon first. Who knows if I’ll get a chance to visit a ship like this again?”

  “As you wish.” He gestured toward the stern.

  In the main salon, another crew member was vacuuming the largest Persian rug Piper had ever seen, spoiling any chance Piper had to sneak up the main staircase to the prince’s private quarters on the top deck. The man turned off the vacuum and nodded politely. Piper babbled about how fantastic the ship was, speculated on how much it must have cost, and finally moved toward the elevator. There was no button for the top deck, so she hit the one for the third.

  It opened onto a triangular room with a small dance floor, a disco ball, and ocean views. A door on one side of the bar took her into a longer corridor, where she discovered a service door that connected the decks for the crew.

  As her foot hit the first tread, she heard someone enter the stairwell below. She rushed to the top, moving as soundlessly as she could, and slipped out into a mercifully empty service corridor for the fourth deck.

  A door at the end opened into a small kitchen. She passed through it into a dining room and through that into a room dominated by a giant television screen. Behind her, she heard voices. She dashed through the closest door and found herself in the prince’s bedroom.

  It was almost comically overdecorated, but the ceiling mirror above the bed curtailed any amusement. Behind her, the voices were coming closer, speaking a language she couldn’t understand. She dove for what she hoped was the closet.

  It turned out to be little more than a shallow niche holding racks of shoes. She squeezed into the tiny space between the racks and the door. The darkness was thick and claustrophobic, smelling too strongly of musk, leather, and something overly sweet.

  The voices were in the bedroom now. The edges of the shelves dug into her spine. If they opened the shoe closet door, they’d see her right away, and if that happened, she could very well end up dead in the ocean.

  Coop would be beyond pissed.

  ***

  Coop waved away the cigar Aamuzhir offered. Where the hell was Piper? Not in the gym, that was for damned sure. Her workouts mainly consisted of some halfhearted push-ups and a couple of laps around the block.

  This trip had been a colossal waste of time. Aamuzhir had actually bragged to him about the good deal he’d made trading an insignificant servant girl for the championship ring. Whatever other sleazy things Aamuzhir had done, he wasn’t the one after Coop.

  The prince p
ulled a cigar from the jeweled box on the table and pointed it directly at the three women by the pool, as if they were inanimate objects. “Feel free to enjoy yourself, my friend. They’re not as young as you might wish, but they’re very pliable.”

  Coop had to steady himself. Those girls barely looked eighteen. But as satisfying as it would be to beat the crap out of this degenerate, he needed to wipe him from his life forever or Pipe would never get off his back about that ring. “Afraid my days of horn-doggin’ it are over,” he said. “I’m about to be a married man.”

  “You Americans,” Aamuzhir said with lofty amusement. “So provincial.”

  “You sound like my buddy Pete. Nothing could ever make that guy settle down. He doesn’t think anybody else should, either.”

  “That’s not an option for most of us,” the prince said on a thin trail of cigar smoke.

  Coop felt pity for Aamuzhir’s wives. “Yeah, Pete’s a real character. I guess you could technically say he’s a mercenary.”

  “Mercenary?” That piqued the prince’s interest.

  “He’s fought in Africa, the Middle East. Who knows where else? He has a real talent for explosives. The bigger the target, the better.” He leaned closer. “Do you know, he once blew a boat about this size straight out of the Gulf of Aden?” He forced a chuckle. “That’s the kind of guy who’s a good friend to have on your side. If anybody ever tried to screw me over, Pete would take care of them long before I could. Dude’s crazy, but you gotta love his loyalty.”

  While Aamuzhir listened, Coop went on, extolling the nonexistent Pete’s destructive skills, right along with his personal loyalty. Aamuzhir wasn’t into subtlety, and Coop laid it on thick, wanting to make sure he’d recall this conversation if he figured out Coop had dumped a fake ring on him. When Coop felt he’d gone far enough, he pushed back his chair. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna make sure my fiancée didn’t get lost.”

  The prince was not happy about losing Coop’s attention, but Coop had done his job and didn’t care. He nodded at the women who were watching him from their chaises just as Piper appeared. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was breathing faster than normal. He didn’t like it.

  “There you are, sweetheart.” He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to the launch owner. “I know you’re having a great time, but we need to be heading back soon.”

  “Do we have to?” The way she turned it into a whine told him she was as ready as he to get off this ship of fools.

  “We have a meeting with our wedding planner,” he said. “Remember?”

  Other than a slight narrowing around her eyes, she didn’t flinch. “I was all for eloping to city hall,” she said. “You’re the one who has to have pink doves and flower girls.”

  He couldn’t help but grin. He’d had enough contact with Aamuzhir to last him forever, and he dragged her to the pool, where he intended to keep them both until the launch arrived.

  ***

  They couldn’t talk privately on the launch, but as soon as they reached the Setai, Pipe tried to make a getaway. “I need some exercise. I’m taking a beach walk. See you later.” She peeled off from him, her dress swishing around her thighs.

  He had her arm before she could reach the sidewalk. “A walk sounds good. I’ll come with you.”

  “No need,” she said brightly. “Why don’t you call some of your friends?”

  “Why don’t I not?”

  “Fine. I didn’t feel like walking anyway.”

  “Good. Because you’re not going anywhere.” He led her into the hotel, but on his way to the elevator bank, he changed direction. Once he got her near that bed, she’d make him forget they needed to talk, so instead, he steered her to a seating niche.

  ***

  The Setai’s Asian-inspired courtyard was an oasis of luxurious, lemongrass-scented calm with low couches that seemed to float on the shallow water of the central serenity pool. Except for the manicured palms and the single orange centered on each side table, the space was a composition of every shade of gray, from charcoal to pearl. The only sounds came from the distant murmur of voices and the calming trickle of running water, but not even the peace of their surroundings could convince Piper this would go well.

  Coop folded himself next to her on the couch. “Considering how useless this trip was, I don’t see what you’re trying to avoid, so spit it out. What don’t you want to tell me?”

  “Not entirely useless,” she replied carefully. “We’ve eliminated one more suspect. Since the prince is still showing off your ring, he has no motive to attack you.”

  “Yet you disappeared.”

  “I wanted to look around.”

  “Look around where?”

  She’d done what she thought she had to, but he wouldn’t see it that way, and she was having misgivings. “Aamuzhir’s bedroom. It gave me the creeps.”

  He snapped to attention. “You were in his bedroom? Where anyone could have walked in on you?”

  She shrugged. By the time she got out of that claustrophobic shoe closet, she had ridges in her back from the shelf edges. Fortunately, she’d found what she was looking for before the crew members returned. “He has some disgusting things in that room.”

  “Stop hedging.”

  She reached into her tote for the zebra-striped scarf she’d used as a sarong. He watched as she carefully unfolded it. Inside was his reproduction ring.

  He sat up straighter. “What are you doing with that?”

  The courtyard was no longer so peaceful, but she reminded herself she’d done what was best. “One of his girlfriends told me he was getting ready to have it sized to fit his finger. Any jeweler would know right away that it’s not genuine and pass on the news. So I took it. Aamuzhir might be a weasel, but he’s a weasel with unlimited funds, and you can’t have this hanging over your head for the rest of your life.”

  He was staring at her as though she’d stepped in from another planet. “You stole the ring?”

  “I had to.”

  He looked more horrified than angry. “You realize if he doesn’t figure out you’re responsible, he’ll blame one of those girls or someone on his crew. Do you have any idea what he might do to them?”

  “He won’t do anything.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I kind of do.” She made herself meet his eyes. “I . . . left a substitute.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “The real thing,” she said in a rush.

  He cocked his head. “You couldn’t have. The real ring is in my bedroom safe.”

  She didn’t say anything. Just sat there and waited for him to figure it out.

  “Piper . . .” His voice was a slow tsunami relentlessly rolling toward the shore.

  “I had to put an end to this. He had to be neutralized.”

  “So you . . .”

  She took a deep breath. “I took the fake and gave him the real thing.”

  The tsunami hit the shore. “You cracked my safe!”

  “Not technically.” Duke had introduced her to the world of locks—the way the tumblers, drive cams, and wheel flies worked. She’d celebrated her fifteenth birthday by cracking his safe, but breaking into Coop’s had required only a little trial and error. His combination had turned out to be his high school, college, and pro jersey numbers. She’d been in and out of the safe before he’d made coffee. “Your combination was easy,” she said.

  “You got into my safe and stole my Super Bowl ring.” Disbelief etched every word. “Then you took it to that bastard’s yacht, sneaked into his bedroom, and exchanged the copy for the real thing?”

  “You never wear it,” she said, more unsure by the second of the wisdom of what she’d done. “I’ll make it right, Coop. I don’t know how, but I will. This had to stop for your own good.”

  “I’d already handled it!” He shot up from the couch, took a step away, then came right back at her. “While you were breaking and entering, I neutralized the so
n of a bitch. And I did it without handing over my ring!”

  “What do you mean you neutralized him?”

  He told her. Spitting out the words. Telling her about his nonexistent mercenary friend and the implied threat he’d delivered. Growing more and more furious with each word. “You stepped so far across the line you’re in another universe.”

  “Coop, I—”

  He leaned forward. In her face. “You have no idea what I went through to earn that ring. The drills, the two-a-days. The surgeries. Watching tape at four in the morning before anybody else saw it. Beating the coaches to the office. I studied fucking thermodynamics!”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I earned that ring with blood and brains and more pain than you can imagine.” The ferocity he unleashed had built his legend, but she’d never imagined it unleashed on her. “I’ve played in hundred-degree heat, in weather so cold my hands were numb. Do you know what I did to get ready to play when it was that cold? I held my hands in ice water—kept them there—just so I could get used to the feeling. And I smiled while I did it, and do you know why? Because I wanted to win. Because I wanted to make my life mean something!”

  She came to her feet, her heart in her throat. “I’m—”

  He stormed off, leaving her alone in the middle of a tranquil courtyard that smelled of oranges and lemongrass.

  17

  The drinks in the sports bar were cheap, the tourists few, and the locals uninterested in a woman sitting in the corner staring blindly at a televised soccer game being played somewhere in the world. It was two in the morning. A few men had approached her, but Piper had turned such blank eyes on them that they’d quickly left her alone.

  She was lower than low, and now she was doing what all messed-up detectives did when they were lost. She was getting drunk.

  She should never have taken his ring. She wouldn’t have if she’d been smart enough to come up with another plan. But she hadn’t been smart enough—not as smart as he’d been. Some detective she was turning out to be. And now here she sat, drowning her ineptitude in liquor.

  She polished off her third drink. Ordered a fourth. She was swilling old-fashioneds, but with no cherry, no orange, straight bourbon whiskey, extra hard on the bitters.