First Star I See Tonight (Chicago Stars #8) - Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page 0,90

buried her still-throbbing head in her hands. She only vaguely remembered collapsing on the hotel room couch last night, but she definitely remembered the strain between them at the airport. They’d barely spoken.

She wished he’d fired her on the plane so they could get it over with, but he hadn’t. Since they’d been lovers, he’d do it more carefully. He’d probably tell her she could keep the apartment for a while. He’d almost surely offer her a generous severance. The thought of his magnanimity made her want to choke.

She smacked herself in the cheek—a really bad idea, considering her jackhammer of a hangover. Until he fired her, she had a job, and she’d keep doing it right to the bitter end. She owed him that much and more.

The online smears, a mugging, a tire slashing, and a drone. It didn’t jibe. And who’d called INS—or was that even relevant? As for the cockroaches . . . Tony had told Spiral’s employees the club had to be closed for repairs to the cooling system, so the leak about the infestation hadn’t come from the staff. Coop had moved Karah and Jada to a hotel while the fumigation was going on. They knew the truth, but they also knew to keep it to themselves. Someone from the exterminating company could easily have blabbed, but Piper found it more likely that the same person who’d dumped the bugs had made sure the word got out.

She’d hit a dead end, and she had no idea where to go next, other than to make certain the club had a better video security system. She called Tony to talk about it. If it had been last week, she’d have talked to Coop directly, but it wasn’t last week.

The rest of Saturday and Sunday passed without word from Coop. She couldn’t go back to her apartment until the fumigation was done, so she slept on her office couch, not just because she didn’t want to impose on Jen or Amber, but also because she was too depressed to be around people.

The flyers she’d distributed netted a Monday-morning phone call from a suspicious wife, and by the next day, Piper had the unpleasant task of confirming the woman’s suspicions. Duke had been right. Once a wife got around to hiring a detective, she pretty much already knew the truth.

Helping others was supposed to be at least a partial cure for depression, so she tried to come up with someone she could help whose initials weren’t C.G. She thought of Jen’s problems with Dumb Ass and poked around the darker corners of the Internet for a few hours but didn’t come up with anything interesting.

Wednesday arrived, and the owner of an air duct cleaning service called. He’d heard Piper was good at handling rat-ass employees who claimed to have been hurt on the job but were goddam liars. The guy sounded like a jerk, but Piper drove to Rogers Park to meet him anyway. On the way back, Tony called to tell her the club was reopening that night, and he needed her back on duty.

“Did you check with Coop about that?” she asked.

“About what?”

“About me coming back.”

“Why wouldn’t you come back?”

“Never mind. I’ll talk to him.”

***

She ran Coop to ground in his office at Spiral that evening. She hadn’t seen the point in changing into her nighttime work clothes, and she was still wearing jeans along with a bulky gunmetal-gray sweater that was the closest thing she had to armor.

He was sitting at the desk with his ankles propped on top and idly tossing a softball back and forth. All the lights were off except the desk lamp, which cast the side of his face in shadow. He looked up as she came in, then returned his attention to the softball.

She gathered her courage. “Stop being such a chickenshit and get it over with. You know you have to fire me, and I’d appreciate it if you’d do it now so I can stop thinking about it.”

He pitched the ball from his right hand to his left.

She curled her fingers around the cuffs of her sweater. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d like to keep the apartment a little longer. I promise, you’ll never see me.”

He tossed the ball back.

“I’ll give my files to whoever you hire to take my place,” she said. “And you’d better hire someone, Coop, because this isn’t over.” She’d stay on the case even after he fired her. She owed