He gave her his odious fan-smile. “I’ll do that.”

“Or my divinity fudge if you’ve got a sweet tooth.”

He smiled, the door closed behind them, and his affability vanished. Piper’s only defense was a strong offense. She set her shoulders and charged toward him. “My surveillance was legal. Yes, going into the club could be a gray area, but Spiral is a public space, and you’d have to prove that my presence caused you extreme emotional distress. Somehow I don’t think a judge would buy that from a former MVP.”

He loomed over her, six feet three to her five feet six. “Who hired you?”

She straightened her spine, trying to gain another inch of height. “I can’t tell you that. But I will say that it’s no one who wishes you harm.”

“Why don’t I find that comforting?”

“It’s the truth.”

“And you’re an expert on the truth, Esmerelda?”

She struggled to keep her cool. “Nobody likes being duped. I understand that. But I had a job to do.”

“Not impressed. Who are you working for?”

“Like I said: no one who’s a threat to you.”

“I’ll decide that for myself.”

“I have nothing else to say.”

“Is that so?” He bored in on her. “Let me put it this way: you can either tell me now or you’ll hear from my lawyers.”

He had to know a lawsuit would destroy her. She tried to channel a wealthy CEO. “Lawsuits are such a time sink.”

“Then give me what I want.”

She couldn’t do that, but she had to do something other than fall on her knees and beg him not to sue her. “I’ll make a deal with you. If you back off, I’ll tell you who your real enemy is. And it’s not the person who hired me.”

He gave her his iciest stare. Waiting. She fought the suffocating feeling that he was once again sucking the air out of the room. “That model you’ve been singling out,” she said. “Blonde. Big boobs, tiny hips, and bizarrely long legs. I know-she’s only one mouse at a cheese convention-but this mouse calls herself Vivian, and you’ve been having lots of cozy chats with her.”

“What of it?”

“After a few snorts of funny stuff in the ladies’ room, she’s telling all her friends how she’s going to trick you into getting her pregnant. You want someone who’s a real threat to you? She’s your gal.”

“Nobody had better be snorting anything in the ladies’ room,” he declared. “That’s why I have security.”

“You’re paying them way too much.”

“And you’re making this up.”

“Am I? Has your so-called security picked up on the side business that at least one of your employees is running? At your expense.”

“What kind of side business?”

“Don’t call your legal eagles, and I’ll tell you.”

“I’ve already called ’em.”

She gulped. “Suit yourself. But I strongly suggest you do your own liquor inventory instead of farming out the job. And when you come up short, remember this conversation.”

“You’re bluffing.”

He was done with her, and as he turned to the door, she knew she had to give him something more. “Keep a closer eye on your red-haired bartender. Then call me and apologize.”

That stopped him. His face toughened with anger. “Keith? That’s bullshit. You picked the wrong guy to lie about.” He drove a pointed finger in the general direction of her head. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to give me the name of the person who hired you or you’ll hear from my lawyers.”

The door slammed shut behind him.


***

Cooper fumed all the way to the club. She was a liar ten times over. Keith Millage was one of his oldest friends. They’d played ball together all through college. Bartenders were notorious for skimming from club owners, and Cooper had brought Keith out from Tulsa just so he’d have someone he trusted watching his back. As for Vivian… Coop had no interest in any of his customers, but if he did… Unlike some of his stupider teammates, he’d never made himself vulnerable to those “accidental” pregnancies.

He pondered the most important question. Who’d hired a detective to follow him and why? He knew the Chicago nightclub business was cutthroat, but what could anyone hope to learn?

He arrived at the club and settled behind his desk. He didn’t like mysteries, and he especially didn’t like mysteries when he was trying to attract an investor. Not just any investor, either. The best in the city. The only one he wanted to work with.

It was time to get down to the floor. He was the card that drew in customers, and while other celebrity nightclub owners made only passing appearances, he played to win, even if it meant being accosted by overzealous fans and trapped by self-proclaimed football experts who only thought they understood the game.

To his disgust, he caught himself watching Keith that night, a guy he’d trust with his life. His hostility toward Piper Dove hardened. As he turned his attention to the group of women pressing up against him, he made up his mind. Nobody won a championship by letting his enemies walk free. He was taking her down, right along with her penny ante detective agency.


***

On Monday morning, Piper dressed in black for what was certain to be the most miserable meeting of her short-lived career as a business owner. Black sweater and black wool slacks. She polished her ancient black boots and unearthed a pair of jagged silver earrings. As long as she was going down in flames, she’d look tough while she did it.

Deidre Joss’s right-hand man and senior VP met Piper in the reception area of the Joss Investment Group offices. Noah Parks was Piper’s regular contact, the person she’d had to call with the ugly news that Cooper Graham had made her. Even though he was an East Coast Ivy Leaguer, his buzz cut, blunt nose, and square jaw made him look like a former Marine. He gave her a curt nod. “Deidre wants to talk to you herself.”

Noah directed her through a set of glass doors into a light-flooded hallway where bands of cream-colored marble bordered the hardwood floors. At the end of the corridor, he opened a door into the office of the firm’s president and CEO.

Tall windows and sleek designer furniture projected stripped-down elegance. But the whiteboard that took up most of the end wall testified that this was a workplace, not a showroom. Its CEO sat at an imposing desk beneath an oil painting of her father, Clarence Joss III. Like Piper, Deidre Joss was following in her father’s footsteps, but unlike Piper, she hadn’t been forced to buy the business from a jealous stepmother. At thirty-six, Deidre was only three years older than Piper, but she seemed a generation older in sophistication and experience.

Tall and thin, with small dark eyes that tilted up at the corners, a long, patrician nose, and mahogany-brown hair, she looked more like a prima ballerina than a CEO. She was dressed in black, as she’d been at their only other meeting, a jersey dress with ropes of pearls. She’d lost her husband in a snowmobile accident a year earlier, so Piper wasn’t certain whether the black was a statement of mourning or an exceptionally flattering fashion choice.

Deidre came around the front of her desk and shook Piper’s hand. “I hope the traffic wasn’t too awful this morning.” She gestured toward the arrangement of couch and chairs. “Have a seat.”

Noah remained standing by the door while Piper took a gray leather conference chair and Deidre resettled in a chair nearby. This assignment had meant everything to Piper, and she’d been determined to do it so perfectly that Deidre would continue hiring her for future work. So much for determination. Now she was a loser kid called to the principal’s office.

“Tell me what happened.” Principal Deidre crossed legs long enough for a grand jeté.

Piper outlined the details, leaving out only the appearance of Esmerelda Crocker.

Deidre didn’t believe in padding her words. “I’m disappointed.”

Piper had no grounds to defend herself. “Not as disappointed as I am. I followed him too closely. It isn’t a mistake I’ll make again, but that doesn’t change what happened.”

She could have added that Deidre was the one who’d issued the order to stay close, but that would sound like an excuse.

“I want you outside his home,” Deidre had said. “Trail him during the day, and get into the club at night. Find out how much he drinks. What kind of women he’s seeing, and how many there are. Before I consider a business partnership, I have to know exactly who I’m dealing with.”

Noah came over to stand beside Deidre’s chair. “I’m sure Graham demanded to know who hired you,” he said.

“He did, but I didn’t tell him.”

Noah didn’t hide his skepticism. “He’s an imposing guy. That’s hard to believe.”

“Under Illinois law, the only way I’d be forced to reveal a client’s identity is with a subpoena.” Piper didn’t mention how likely that was to happen. She had enough real alligators to deal with before she started worrying about the ones still lurking in the swamp. At the same time, she wished Deidre would give her permission to volunteer the information. Since Deidre was considering going into partnership with him, he’d surely understand the wisdom of her having his personal and business life investigated beforehand.

But Deidre wasn’t volunteering anything. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I’ll take your report.” Noah held out his hand, and since he’d moved to stand by the door, Piper had to get up to deliver it to him. She’d stayed awake most of the night checking every detail to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. She’d also included a summary of the expenses she’d incurred, praying they wouldn’t try to back out of paying her because she hadn’t completed the job.

Deidre touched the pearls at her throat. “I hired you because your father did business with mine, and I believe in helping women who are starting their own businesses. I’m sorry this hasn’t worked out.”

She seemed genuinely regretful, and Piper’s disgust with her own incompetence made it impossible for her to fight back. “I only wish I’d been able to meet your expectations.”

Noah gestured toward the door, less sympathetic than his employer. As Piper followed him down the hallway, she could feel the ruins of her career crumbling beneath her feet.


***

For the next few days, she had to force herself to go to the office instead of staying home with the covers pulled over her head. It was mid-September, and unless something drastically changed, she’d barely make it to Halloween before she’d run out of money and have to close her doors. But not yet. One way or the other, she had to drum up some business.

In her father’s time, Dove Investigations had occupied the entire one-story brick building Duke had purchased in the eighties. Now, her stepmother owned the whole thing, and all Piper could afford to rent for herself was the former bookkeeper’s office in the back.

When she’d moved in, the office had been as dingy as a fictional detective’s office. She’d splurged on an olive-green rug with a black sunburst pattern to camouflage the vinyl floor tiles, then painted the walls off-white and hung some kitschy posters of old True Detective magazine covers. A secondhand store had yielded a library table she’d spruced up with flat black enamel paint to use as a desk. She’d added a good light and a pair of black steel-framed chairs for the clients she’d hoped she’d attract.

Her voice mail included another message from Graham’s attorney demanding a meeting for the following week. She deleted it, as if that would make it go away forever, and switched on her computer. Out of habit, she did a quick search to see if there was anything new on Cooper Graham. Nothing.

She made herself cold-call more law firms, then followed up by sending them a copy of her brochure.

DOVE INVESTIGATIONS

Est. 1958

Truth Brings Peace

Legal, Attorney, and Corporate Support

Insurance and Domestic Investigations

Hidden Assets Investigations

Background Checks

Missing Persons

She’d considered getting rid of the firm’s old slogan, “Truth Brings Peace,” but it was part of her family history, starting with her grandfather, and changing it would feel like wiping out her heritage.

A rap sounded on her office door. She jumped up. But instead of a new client coming in off the street, Berni barged in. She’d pulled herself together enough to tie a hippie headband around her Day-Glo-orange hair and wear a fringed vest over her sweatpants. “Now, Piper, before you say anything… I know you don’t believe I saw Howard in Lincoln Square. I hardly believed it myself. But I lived with that man for fifty-eight years, and I should know.” She brushed past Piper and settled in one of the chairs across from the desk. She opened her bag and pulled out an envelope. “Here’s a one-hundred-dollar retainer.” She slapped it on the desk.