Deidre had come to her feet, her hands braced on the desktop.

“Ellen is Noah’s longtime… girlfriend,” Piper explained. “She’s also the woman who accused Coop of rape. Interesting, right?”

Coop straightened from his position against the wall.

Noah leaned over and hit the intercom on Deidre’s desk. “Get security up here!”

“Ellen told me all about it,” Piper said.

Deidre looked dazed. “Noah, is this true?”

“No! Of course, it’s not true.”

“She’s with the police right now,” Piper said. “Along with a copy of your computer’s hard drive.”

Noah bolted for the door. But Coop was too quick for him. He threw a block that sent Noah staggering backward. Before he could fall, Coop grabbed him and shoved him down on the office couch. “Let’s hear what Piper has to say.”

Piper had a lot to say. “Noah paid Ms. Englley ten thousand dollars to accuse Coop of rape. Noah wanted to destroy him. Get him out of your life. He even used a drone to spy on him.” Noah slumped forward on the couch, his head in his hands. Deidre stood frozen as Piper went on. “The police are going to find that hard drive very interesting. You really should empty your e-mail trash folder, although dumping the cockroaches at the club is small potatoes compared to the rest.”

“You stole it,” he said into his hands.

“Why, Noah?” Deidre cried. “Why would you do something like this?”

He set his jaw, refusing to speak, so Piper answered for him. “He wants to be the most important man in your life. He got used to the way you relied on him after your husband died. Maybe he hoped to be the next Mr. Joss, but whether he wanted that or not, he had to make sure he stayed the most important man in your life. Your personal interest in Coop was threatening that. He wanted both Coop and Spiral out of the picture.”

Coop witnessed it all, saying nothing.

Deidre sank back into her chair. She put her head in her hands, then slowly lifted it. “How could you do this?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Noah’s face twisted bitterly. “I couldn’t stop you from marrying Sam, even though anybody could see he wasn’t good enough for you. I wasn’t going to lose you to Graham, too.”

“I trusted you more than I trusted anyone.”

“I needed more time!” he exclaimed. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Loved Joss Investments was more like it.

The door shot open and two security guards charged in.

Deidre came up from the chair, in full command. “Put him in his office and keep him there until the police get here.” As they led him away, she went to Coop. “I don’t know how I can ever make this up to you.”

Piper had a few ideas, and she hated every one of them.


***

Coop got behind the wheel of Piper’s Sonata himself and headed toward Spiral. “How did you get his computer?”

Piper rested her head and shut her eyes. Words were pressing at her lips, emotions churning-thoughts and feelings so contradictory, so painful, she couldn’t let them escape. “I can’t talk to you until I get some sleep.”

“I need answers.”

“I’m serious, Coop. I haven’t slept since Sunday night, and I need to go to bed.”

“Fine. I’ll be with my lawyers most of tomorrow, but I’ll pick you up for dinner at five o’clock.”

She opened her eyes. “What are you? Eighty years old? Who goes out to dinner that early?”

“You’re bitchy when you don’t sleep.”

“Got it. Old Country Buffet at five o’clock.”

“Five o’clock because I want plenty of time to get you drunk.”

“In that case…” She shut her eyes again.


***

By the time Piper awoke the next day, the police had issued a statement saying Coop had been falsely accused. They didn’t name Noah but merely referred to “a person with a grudge against the former Stars quarterback.” By noon, the local channels were showing footage of Ellen Englley with a hoodie pulled over her head trying to duck the news cameras. Piper gazed at the screen in disgust. Noah’s mistress would probably end up with a reality show.

Coop’s attorney held a short press conference at three o’clock where, among other things, Piper learned that Coop was a long-standing member of the NFL’s task force on sexual violence. His attorney read a statement from Coop about the serious impact false accusations have on real rape victims. How could Piper not want to protect someone like that?

Eric called with the unwelcome news that Noah Parks had an airtight alibi for both the night Coop had been attacked outside his condo and the night Karah had been forced off the road. Piper assumed Noah had hired someone to carry out the first attack, but she’d been counting on him being behind the wheel of the mystery vehicle that had gone after the Tesla. Unless the police found another connection, Noah could get off with a slap on the wrist.

She made herself focus on the long-sleeved, bittersweet-orange knit dress she’d unearthed from the back of the closet. She’d last worn it at a college friend’s wedding a couple of years ago. The boatneck framed her long neck, something she generally didn’t think about, but for tonight, she wanted to feel at least halfway pretty.

Coop had traded in his jeans and boots for an open-collar white dress shirt, gray pants, and a darker gray sports coat that fit his body as if he’d grown it there. Appreciation glinted in his eyes. “Damn, Pipe, you really do know how to look like a girl.”

“I told you I could,” she said. “Where are we going to dinner?”

“Drinks first. This great new place I’ve heard about.”

“You’re going to be mobbed.”

“All taken care of.”

He was right. The great new place turned out to be right below them, which explained their early date time.

Even though Spiral wouldn’t open for another four hours, soft light glowed from inside the cube-shaped cocktail tables, and the suspended rods glimmered like golden stalactites above the bar. The leather banquettes were welcoming, and music played quietly in the background. No one was around.

Coop stepped behind the bar. “We have three hours until the staff shows up,” he said. “The place is locked tight for now, and I gave strict orders that nobody can get in until eight.”

“Not much prep time before the club opens.”

“They’ll cope.” He uncorked a very expensive cabernet and filled two goblets.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be a team player,” she said as she slid up onto a barstool. “But you weren’t exactly available for consultation.”

“You’re forgiven.”

She held up the wine goblet he gave her. “Here’s to being innocent.”

“Not in that dress.”

The dress’s wide neckline extended all the way to her collarbones, but the rest of it hugged her body. “I was talking about you.”

“I know.” He smiled. “How did you figure it out?”

She told him about Noah’s license plate.

“Not much to go on.”

“And intuition. He hovered around Deidre, and there was something about his attitude toward you that felt more personal than professional.”

He rested his hand on the bar and gave her one of his brain-piercing looks. “How did you get his computer?”

He’d brought up the thing she most didn’t want to look at. “Not legally.” She stared into her wineglass. “I’m turning into somebody I don’t respect. One of those people so focused on the end goal that they don’t care how they reach it.”

“It’s called passion.”

She had another word for it. Unethical.


***

Coop watched her sip her wine. She wasn’t happy, and he wanted her to be. She should be.

He took a platter of meats, cheeses, olives, and summer rolls from the refrigerator under the bar and carried it to the closest banquette. She followed him with their wine goblets, steady as can be on those stilettos she detested. She hadn’t believed he’d assaulted anybody. Not for a moment. She’d been impatient when he’d pressed her about it-as if he were wasting her time by bringing it up. No one had ever had such blind faith in him. What the hell was a man supposed to do with a woman like this?

She slid into the banquette, her skirt riding up on her thighs enough for him to lose his train of thought. Even without tonight’s mascara, her eyelashes were long and thick, and her glossy cinnamon mouth was an invitation. He loved her face best scrubbed clean, but he also loved knowing that she’d bothered fixing herself up just for him.

“This feels ceremonial,” she said.

“It is. A celebration.” She’d put her investigator’s license in jeopardy doing whatever it was she’d done, and that bothered him even more than knowing he’d needed someone else to solve his problems.

“You don’t look happy,” she said.

“I’m very happy.”

“Then why are you frowning?”

“Because I’m trying not to act like the animal I am by picturing what’s under your dress. I’m not proud of myself.”

She smiled.

He set down his drink. “Let’s dance.”

“Really?”

“Why not?”

She took his hand and slid out of the banquette. He led her to the floor. It was odd to realize this was the first time he’d been able to dance in his own club strictly for pleasure.

And pleasure it was. The sweet fit of her body against his own was almost painful, although he wished when he’d programmed the music, he’d avoided this off-the-charts sentimental Ed Sheeran ballad. On the other hand, it suited his mood.

“This is just weird,” she said, resting the top of her head against the side of his jaw and leaning even closer into him.

“If only you weren’t such a romantic.”

She laughed. Why did he keep worrying about leading her on when she had her feet so firmly planted on the ground and her head so far below the clouds?

They danced in silence, their hands clasped, their bodies swaying, breathing in each other’s air. The Sheeran song ended and Etta James began to sing “At Last.” He drew her back to the banquette.

She nibbled at the appetizers, taking those dainty bites that always threw him off. He needed to tell her what her trust meant to him. Instead, he asked her to take him through everything she’d done from the time the police had carted him away to their meeting with Deidre.

“I’ll give you the best first.” She told him about finding the man Mrs. Berkovitz thought was her dead husband.

“Incredible,” he said as she finished. “And how much did Mrs. B. pay you to do this job for her?”

“A hundred dollars. I was planning to take her out to dinner, but now I’m hoping I can take them both out.”

“You have a good heart, Piper Dove.”

She speared a cheese cube. “And flexible ethics.”

He rose to fetch the bottle of cabernet from the bar. “Go ahead. Get it all out.”

“I don’t want to.”

“That bad?”

“Depends on how you feel about breaking and entering, not to mention burglary. I also lied to your accuser about the money transfer, but I don’t feel bad about that. Then there’s your ring…”

He set the bottle on the table. “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on yourself?”

“The end justifies the means? I’d like to believe that, but I can’t.”

“You’re a high achiever, Pipe. It’s the way you’re made.” The way Duke Dove had made her.

She gave him a bright, phony smile. “No more depressing talk. Tell me about jail. Did anybody try to make you his bitch?”

“I was held in a conference room filled with cops who wanted a replay of last year’s Super Bowl. So that would be a no.”

“Disappointing.”

He shoved an olive in her mouth.

The music picked up tempo, and they went back to the dance floor. Before long, she’d kicked off her heels, and he got rid of his suit coat. As the tunes grew more erotic, so did their dancing. Pharrell to Rihanna; Bowie to Beyoncé. Piper on her toes. Pressing that sweet butt hard against him. Rotating, then spinning around to face him, her face flushed, her lids heavy. Rotating again. Butt pressing… If she didn’t stop, he’d have a repeat performance of their first time, so he grabbed her by the arms and pressed her against the wall.

He kissed her. Open mouth. Kissed her and kissed her and kissed her again-mouth, neck, back to her mouth. Long, deep explorations. The two of them making out as if this were as far as they could go. Devouring each other. Clothes sticking to their skin. One song after another.

Marvin Gaye… “Let’s get it on…”

Missy Elliott… “Let me work it…”

And still they kissed. A make-out session for the ages.

Do it all night… All night…

The skirt of her dress was in his fists. Shoved to her waist. His belt opening under her palms.

How does it feel… It feels…