First Star I See Tonight

  Piper wasn’t used to anyone intimidating her, but being in the presence of Phoebe Calebow was being in the presence of greatness. She swallowed. “I don’t think I have any intentions.”

  Mrs. Calebow arched one beautifully shaped and very skeptical eyebrow.

  “We’re . . . That part is over,” Piper said. “It’s all professional now. I have a job to do. And . . . How did you know about me?”

  “I keep track of my men,” Mrs. Calebow said with a wry smile. “Do you read?”

  “Read?”

  “Books.”

  “Of course. Thrillers. Mysteries. Police procedurals. At least I did until the past month, when I started working so late.” She babbled on. “I like biographies and autobiographies, too. But only about women. Which, I know, is sexist, but those are the stories that resonate with me. Oh, and cookbooks. I hate cooking but I like reading about it. And technology.” She forced herself to shut up.

  “Interesting.” Mrs. Calebow uncoiled her legs from the desk corner, legs that could still have found a place in the Rockettes chorus line. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Dove.”

  She swept from the office, leaving Piper to wonder what had just happened.

  ***

  Piper didn’t leave the Stars headquarters until midafternoon, by which time she’d dug through all Coop’s PR records. On her way to her car, she experienced her familiar frustration. Nothing she’d read had raised a red flag. As she eased onto the two-lane road marked stars drive, she once again tried to figure out what she was missing and once again came up empty.

  Instead of heading east toward the city, she took the Reagan Tollway west. She hadn’t seen Coop since their sleepover three nights ago, but she’d called him yesterday morning to make sure he wasn’t planning to throw himself into any big crowds or take off on a solitary hike. “I’m going over to Heath and Annabelle’s to watch the Stars game,” he’d said.

  She’d asked Coop why he didn’t go to see the games in person. He’d pointed out how unfair it would be to the Stars’ new quarterback having TV cameras track Coop’s reaction to every play.

  “Deidre’s invited us both to an overnight house party at her farm on Monday night,” he’d announced.

  “That should make you happy.”

  “What will make me happy is getting a financial commitment from her.”

  “You’re going ahead with it, then?” she’d said. “Building your empire.”

  “Of course I am. Why would you even ask?”

  Because running a chain of nightclubs didn’t seem right for Coop, but she’d held her tongue. She also hadn’t mentioned that he could easily get a more personal commitment from Deidre. But he probably already knew that.

  “I like Deidre,” she’d said carefully. “Even though she fired me.”

  “I like her, too. A lot.”

  And why wouldn’t he?

  Piper got off at the Farnsworth exit and headed north. She didn’t want to go to Deidre’s overnight house party, but she also didn’t want Coop out of her sight for two days, so she’d agreed to meet him there.

  St. Charles was a pretty town on the Fox River about forty miles west of the Loop. The Joss family farm lay to the northwest, its entrance marked by stone pillars and a white rail fence. Burnished leaves from the trees lining the drive drifted over the hood of her car as she made her way to the large, two-story white house. She parked her car between Coop’s Tesla and a red Lexus. This looked like a working farm, with a stable, barn, and paddock. The fields had been cleared for next year’s planting.

  Her only familiarity with country house parties came from reading English novels, but the farmhouse was distinctly American with its wide front porch and arrangements of multicolored pumpkins, corn sheaves, mums, and pots of ornamental kale at the top of the steps. A set of wooden rocking chairs with orange and brown cushions sat on each side of a hunter-green front door where a natural wreath of leaves, seedpods, and small gourds hung. It all belonged on a magazine cover.

  A middle-aged housekeeper in jeans and a white T-shirt rescued her from an unfamiliar sense of yearning. “Everyone is out riding now,” the housekeeper said as she showed Piper her room, “but they should be back soon. Feel free to explore.”

  Since she’d been sitting most of the day, she was happy to poke around the barn and the outbuildings. The housekeeper had told her that the farm grew corn, soybeans, and some wheat, but there was also a sizable vegetable garden where a few pumpkins remained on the vines, along with some cabbage, broccoli, and Swiss chard, a vegetable she wouldn’t have recognized if Coop hadn’t pointed it out in his garden. In the stable, three empty stalls filled with fresh beds of straw waited for their occupants to return.

  She saw them before they saw her. Deidre rode a lively roan mare between Noah and Coop, who was on a dappled gray. With her upright carriage, dark hair knotted at the nape of her neck, riding hat, and breeches, she looked ready for a horse show. As for Coop . . . Piper had never seen him more comfortable. His body moved in perfect synchronicity with his mount, and she once again pondered how someone who so clearly belonged in the country was so at home in the big city.

  As Piper stood inside the doorway, the stable hand who’d been listening to Lil Wayne in the corner got up to go to work. Coop dismounted as gracefully as he dodged defensive ends. Piper watched the way the denim tightened around his thighs and then made herself not watch.

  After Deidre dismounted, Coop looped an arm across her shoulders. He looked like a man in love. Rumpled hair. Easy laugh. A dirty bomb exploded in Piper’s heart.

  He finally spotted her and released the arm he’d thrown around Deidre—not out of guilt but to pass the reins over to the stable hand. “You should have gotten here earlier, Pipe. We had a great ride.”

  “You’re a natural, Cooper.” Deidre’s praise was straightforward, without a hint of girlishness. “I can tell you spent a lot of time on horseback when you were a kid.”

  “I never learned to ride pretty,” he said, “but I got the job done.”

  Deidre gave him an open smile. “I think you ride very pretty.”

  Piper wanted to barf.

  For the first time, she noticed Noah. His high-end suede jacket and ironed denim shirt suggested he’d have been much happier behind a desk.

  It quickly became apparent that Deidre had planned a very small house party—only the four of them. Piper didn’t need her detective skills to figure out that Deidre was playing matchmaker. Maybe she simply enjoyed fixing people up, or maybe she was hoping that Piper and Noah would hit it off so she’d have a clear path to Coop. But a relationship between Piper and Noah Parks would never happen. He was intelligent, and his squared-off profile wasn’t unattractive, but he didn’t seem to possess a shred of humor.

  Coop gestured toward the field behind the garden. “How did your wheat do with all the rain this summer, Deidre?”

  “I’m embarrassed to say that I don’t know. We have a tenant who farms the place. When my husband was alive, he knew everything that happened here, but I only ride and relax.”

  “Sam loved the farm,” Noah said. “It was in his family for three generations.”

  As they left the stable behind, Deidre talked about how she and her late husband had torn down the old farmhouse to build the new one. She spoke of Sam matter-of-factly. Deidre Joss was a woman who held her emotions close to her chest.

  Noah fell in step next to Piper, and she did some not-so-subtle probing. “It has to be hard for Deidre. Losing her husband at such a young age. Snowmobile accident, right?”

  “Driving too fast.”

  “What was he like?”

  “Sam? Easygoing, fun to be around. A little irresponsible. Everybody liked him. Hard not to. They were only married five years.”

  “A good marriage?”

  She expected Noah to freeze her out, but he didn’t. “They were crazy about each other, but she was the one who had to do the heavy lifting.”

  They’d reached th
e house, and Deidre announced cocktails in an hour on the patio. “Coop, let me show you your room.”

  Which wouldn’t be anyplace near Piper’s.

  She washed her face and put on a little makeup but didn’t change from the slacks and sweater she’d worn to the Stars Complex. As she reached for her messenger bag to check her phone, she remembered she’d left it in her car and went downstairs to get it.

  A light breeze ruffled the tree branches near the house. The smell of fall was hard in the air, a smell she loved. It was nearly dark, and the floodlights mounted on the corner of the barn shone on her Sonata, Coop’s Tesla, and the Lexus. As she walked toward the cars, she noted the Lexus’s license plate. ararat.

  Overhead, an owl hooted and swooped toward a stand of trees beyond the barn. A wisp of memory tantalized her but wouldn’t take shape. She reclaimed her bag and texted Jen to find out if she’d returned Eric’s call. Then she made her way to the back of the house.

  The three of them were seated around a blazing, stone fire pit. The patio had an outdoor kitchen with a built-in grill, a sink, and a tiled countertop. Garden torches illuminated the perimeter and cast a faint light over a swimming pool covered for the season. Noah was cross-examining Coop. “. . . and you’ve also gotten too much bad publicity. Forgive me for being blunt, but that’s a sign of bad management.”

  “It’s a sign of bad luck,” Coop countered.

  “You know I’ve been opposed to this from the beginning,” Noah said. “I’ve never liked the idea of trusting this large an investment to the whims of professional athletes who already have more money than they can spend. Yourself excluded, of course.”

  “If that’s what the plan was, you’d be right, Noah. But you keep missing the point. Athletes retire young. Sure, some of them are more than happy to spend their time going through their money, but those aren’t the guys I’m after. I want the ones who are smart, ambitious, and out for a new challenge but not willing to bankroll themselves. There are a lot of them.”

  Deidre stayed silent, taking in both Coop’s answers and Noah’s questions. “It’s too risky an investment for us,” Noah said. “We don’t know the industry, and we don’t understand the market.”

  “Did you understand China’s market for water-purification systems when you made that investment?” Coop turned to Deidre. “Taking a few well-calculated risks makes business more interesting, doesn’t it?”

  Deidre spoke for the first time. “I like the idea of diversifying into the so-called sin industries, even though Noah has raised some good points. The fact that he’s not often wrong has been my only hesitation.”

  “This time he’s wrong,” Coop countered. “And, Deidre, as much as I’m enjoying your hospitality . . . and as much as I’d like to work with you, it’s time to make up your mind. I’ll give you another couple of days. Then I’ll have to move on.”

  Coop didn’t want to move on. Piper knew that Deidre was the only partner he wanted.

  Far from being rattled, Deidre smiled. “I don’t think we’ll need that long.”

  “Piper!” Noah came to his feet. “Let me get you something to drink. Cocktail? Wine?”

  “I’ll have a beer.” She walked out into the torchlight. “Whatever Coop’s drinking.”

  “You and Coop appear to have a lot of the same tastes. It’s no surprise you like working together.” Noah moved to the outdoor bar. “That’s another question I have. You seem to be Coop’s confidante . . .”

  Was it her imagination, or did he veil that last word with all kinds of hidden meanings?

  He pulled a frosted mug from the small built-in refrigerator. “We know he was a great quarterback, but is he a great businessman?”

  Deidre showed her first sign of impatience. “How do you expect her to answer that?”

  “In her normal straightforward fashion,” Noah said. “Piper knows him better than either of us, and I’ve developed a healthy respect for her opinion. So tell us, Piper. Do you see Coop as a captain of industry?”

  “I see Coop as being successful at whatever he sets his mind to,” Piper said carefully.

  Noah walked toward her with a frosted beer mug. “But is running nightclubs what he should be setting his mind to? Tell us what your gut says.”

  No. Absolutely not. Coop lifted an eyebrow at her, once again reading her mind. She took the mug. “I’m not going to second-guess Coop’s hopes and dreams, but I will say that you couldn’t pick anyone to do business with who’s more honest or hardworking.”

  The housekeeper interrupted, looking flustered. The reason was immediately apparent as a pair of uniformed police officers followed her out onto the patio. “Deidre, these men are from the St. Charles police department.”

  Piper came to her feet. Deidre merely looked curious. “What can I help you with?”

  They ignored her to focus on Coop. “Mr. Graham, you’ll have to come with us. We have a warrant for your arrest.”

  Noah stepped forward. “That’s ludicrous. On what charge?”

  The officer regarded Coop grimly. “Sexual assault.”

  19

  The warrant had come from the city of Chicago. A woman had accused Coop of sexually assaulting her at the club last Wednesday night.

  Deidre was regarding him with something like repulsion.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Piper said harshly. “He didn’t assault anybody. He’s been set up.”

  Coop gazed over at her, his expression unreadable.

  The officers led him away in handcuffs, which would have devastated Piper if she weren’t so furious. She had his attorney on the phone before the squad car pulled out of the driveway.

  Deidre’s hand shook as she poured herself a fresh drink. “I—I can’t imagine him doing anything like that.”

  “Professional athletes always believe they’re above the law.” Noah seemed almost smug. “The more I learn about the world of Cooper Graham, the less I like it.”

  And that’s when Piper remembered.

  ararat.

  ***

  Coop was arrested in the suburbs instead of the city, so it would take hours for him to post bail and get released, but Piper wouldn’t be at the police station waiting for him. Instead, she’d pulled a black hoodie over her head and was breaking into Noah Parks’s house in the city.

  The lock was relatively simple to pick, but the renovated Streeterville greystone had an alarm system, and its banshee screeches gave her only a few minutes to search before the police showed up.

  The interior smelled of fresh paint. Timer lights in the hallway and the living room gave her enough illumination to see where she was going.

  ararat.

  She’d spotted that license plate on Thursday night when Deidre had visited Spiral and Piper had walked her to her car. On Piper’s way back to the club, a red Lexus had sped past her so recklessly that she’d shot the car the bird. That red Lexus had the license plate ararat. The mountain where the ark had come to rest.

  Noah’s ark.

  Noah Parks had followed Deidre to the club that night. Maybe he’d been worried about her safety, but Deidre was more than capable of taking care of herself. More likely, he hadn’t wanted her out of his sight. And after watching him with her earlier and seeing his barely concealed dislike of Coop, Piper thought she knew why.

  The minutes raced by too quickly. His laptop wasn’t in his office at the rear of the house. She raced upstairs and poked her head into the bedrooms. Parks was too much of a workaholic not to have a computer in his house, but where was it? And what was on it?

  She’d pickpocketed Noah’s cell phone right after the police had left and hidden away with it in the first-floor powder room. Like a lot of busy people who are always on their phones, he’d neglected to bother with a password, and she’d quickly found and memorized one interesting piece of information. But she needed more, and she could stay in Deidre’s powder room for only so long. Leaving the phone on the patio where he’d think he’d dropped it, she’
d excused herself from spending the night, rushed back to the city, and now here she was, undertaking her first break-in.

  She ran back downstairs again, the scream of the alarm system frying her nerves. She couldn’t afford to stay any longer. One more sweep. She cut through the living room, the den. Nothing. She had to get out before the police arrived. Now. She passed through the kitchen again. And there it was. On the granite counter. She grabbed it, ran out through the rear and down the alley to her car.

  Once she got back to her office and stopped shaking, she made a pot of strong coffee to keep herself alert. Then she settled behind her desk and began the work of cloning the laptop’s hard drive.

  An hour later, she was in.

  ***

  Her cell rang. She jerked her head up from her desk and fumbled to pick it up. Eight a.m. She’d fallen asleep less than an hour ago. “’Lo,” she croaked.

  “Nice to know how much you care.” The uncharacteristically sulky note in Coop’s voice reassured her as nothing else could have.

  “Yeah, well, I had things to do, and I called your attorney, didn’t I?” She grabbed her mug, took a slug of cold coffee, and shuddered.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me?”

  She rubbed her eyes. “About what?”

  “I’ve been accused of a sex crime!” he exclaimed. “I’m currently out of jail on bond!”

  “Oh, that.”

  “You think this is some kind of a joke?”

  “Don’t even go there.” The anger she’d barely been able to suppress boiled to the surface. “Thousands of women won’t report they’ve been raped because they’re afraid they’ll be called liars. And then there’s this. It’s too much, Coop. I swear I am going to nail whoever accused you.”

  There was such a long pause she thought he’d hung up. But then she heard him clear his throat. His voice sounded strange. Tight. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “What have you been up to?” He didn’t say it in a casual, What’s up? way. More of an I want a full report way.

  “I’ve got things to do. I’ll call you later.” She disconnected and shut down her cell. So much for teamwork.