“Not really.”His eyes held mine as he came closer.“Between you and your mom and Hummel, I’ve learned enough about the case to know that it’ll be a challenge.If Cooper and you are best friends, he can’t be all that bad.I need a break from the city.This is perfect.You’ve offered me your hospitality.And you’re here.”He paused, then said in a husky tone, “This case is just what I need.”
I didn’t like the tone any more than I liked the look in his eyes.It was hungry—hungry in the way of a man who knew how to satisfy a woman and satisfy her well, hungry for the kinds of things I’d sworn I’d never give again.
Hunger alone I could resist, but there was a gentleness there, too, that posed a far greater threat.I was a sucker for gentle men.Adam had been one.So, in his dark way, was Cooper—who, praise be, chose that moment to walk through the kitchen door.
Looking disgruntled, he stared first at me, then at Peter.In the silence that ensued, I had the uncanny notion that it was my future, not Cooper’s, that hung in the balance.
Without leaving my side, Peter extended his hand.Cooper eyed it, eyed me, eyed Peter.I held my breath, unsettled as I’d never been, because though Peter would be the best thing for Cooper, he might well be the worst thing for me.
Then Cooper’s hand slowly went out, and I was trapped.
2
From my perch on the stool, I silently watched the two men at the table.Though they’d asked me to join them, I’d declined.It seemed important that they establish a relationship without my interference.At least, that was the excuse I gave myself, though if I’d truly wanted to give them privacy, I’d have left the room.
I didn’t do that for two reasons.First, I wanted to make sure Cooper cooperated.And second, I wanted to see how Peter Hathaway worked.
Sitting on the stool by the counter gave me spectator status.It also removed me just a bit from Peter, which meant that I could relax some.Cooper’s presence helped; he was my ally, loyal, devoted, steadfast.He was also in a lousy mood.Yes, he’d come, but he was looking tired and taut.He participated in the meeting only to the extent of answering the questions Peter asked.He didn’t volunteer a thing.
I had to hand it to Peter.Undaunted by Cooper’s reluctance, he posed question after question, each in the low, even tone that reminded me of what Ian had said.“Serious legal business,”he’d attributed to Peter, and I could see it.There were no grins, no editorial comments, no questions that didn’t have direct relevance to the case.He read Cooper well.Perhaps he’d had experience with dozens of Coopers, but he understood that this one needed a low-keyed, meat-and-potatoes approach.That was one of the reasons I assumed he made notes by hand on a yellow legal pad, rather than using the small recorder I’d seen in the briefcase he’d brought in from the car.
Since I was familiar with the facts of the case, I listened to the discussion with only half an ear.I already knew that theFree Reignhad been on a two-week trip fishing off the shores of Newfoundland, that she’d stopped at Grand Bank for supplies midway through, that she’d returned to Maine right on schedule.There had been nothing new about the itinerary; Cooper had followed it dozens of times before.This time, though, U.S.Customs agents had been waiting to welcome him home.
Without making a big deal of it, Peter asked, “Did you know anything about those diamonds?”
“No,” Cooper answered.
“You had no idea they were on the boat?”
“None.”
“They were found in your cabin.If you don’t know how they got there, maybe one of your crew does.Any suggestions?”
“No.My men are all honest and hardworking.”
“Are any of them financially strapped?”
“They all are.If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be in this line of work.It’s hard.”
“Forget strapped.Talk panicked.Are any of them in the midst of serious financial crises?”
“All the time,” Cooper said with a cynical twist to his lips.
I wanted to shake him.He knew what Peter was getting at, but he was being difficult.At that moment, I admired Peter his patience.Though he spoke a little slower than normal when he rephrased the question, he made it sound more pensive than tempering.
“Has any of your crew suffered any recent out-of-the-ordinary financial crisis?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Would you know?”
“Probably.”
Peter made several notes on his pad.I couldn’t read them from where I sat, but I could watch the movement of his head.He held the pen oddly, as though awkward with it, and though he wrote quickly enough, I wondered what kind of student he’d been in school.
Brilliant, no doubt.I wondered why I’d wondered in the first place.
Drawing several broad lines across the page, he began to ask Cooper questions about individual members of the crew.While my half-an-ear continued to listen, the rest of me strayed.
