The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River #3)

“Come on, come on, you know who she is,” Carl said impatiently. “She’s got legs up to here,” he said, gesturing at his thick neck. “Small tits. Long blond hair. And she has that look, like she doesn’t give a shit.”


And green eyes with heavy lashes, Carl forgot that. But Carl was right, Emma had a way of looking right through you . . . but not until after she’d looked directly at you, luring you in with a perfect, sultry smile. “Yeah,” he said, and ran his hand over his head, feeling doubly uncomfortable now. “I know who you’re talking about.”

“Well, she has screwed me over,” Carl said irritably. “I’ve got to get it cleared up or I’m dead. You have no idea.”

“Okay,” Cooper said uncertainly. If this was nothing but a lover’s spat, he didn’t know if he could keep himself from strangling Carl for making him get on the 405.

“Can you just . . . just sit, please,” Carl said. At Cooper’s hesitation, Carl said, “Please.”

Cooper suppressed a groan and relented, fitting himself on that chair as best he could. He felt ridiculous, especially when Carl suddenly pulled a chair around, and sat directly in front of Cooper, so close that their knees were almost touching.

“I’ll be honest, Cooper,” Carl said low, as if they were sharing some desperate secret. “I’m in a lot of trouble. A lot. I need some help.”

“I think you might have the wrong idea about TA—”

“No, no, listen. I know you guys do some things that aren’t exactly adventures,” Carl said. “You did Olivia Dagwood’s wedding, you did that big birthday bash down in Costa Rica. And what about that security thing you did for Audrey LaRue?”

This was exactly Cooper’s worry—people had gotten the wrong impression of them. “Those were things we couldn’t get out of,” Cooper said quickly. “But TA doesn’t—”

“Here’s the thing,” Carl said, clearly an expert at cutting people off before they could say no. “I’m going through a divorce. A bad one. You know my wife, Alicia, right? Well, she’s coming after me with both guns blazing, going after everything I have. She even wants my boat,” he said, and his eyes took on a sheen of panic. “She rented a big house in Malibu that I have to pay for and she bought a new car, and she sends me credit card bills each month, and she’s just shopping, shopping, shopping.” He paused and scrubbed his forehead a moment. “So I was trying to work things out, you know? And I had her, Cooper, I had her!”

Cooper didn’t know how or where Carl had her, and he didn’t care. He was very uncomfortable hearing the details of his divorce. He preferred to get his news on these touchy Hollywood subjects like everyone else—directly from TMZ.

“She’s out for blood. I mean, you know how women get when they catch you with your pants down.”

No, Cooper didn’t know. He’d always been faithful in his relationships. His problem was an inability to stick around for the long haul, or, as Jill had said as she’d walked out on him, You’re a fucking commitmentphobe. But dammit, he was faithful.

“My attorney says, give her what she wants, because if you don’t, she’s going to drag your ass into court, and the judge isn’t going to view your behavior favorably,” Carl continued, rubbing his temples now.

“I don’t know what this has to do with TA—”

“And I did, I gave her everything. And we’re at an agreement, right? But one night, a little after Halloween, she calls up and tells me she wants this medal that belonged to her grandfather. Medal of Honor, Korean War. She gave it to me when her mother passed, but okay, I get it, and I’ll give it to her. I know exactly where it is and I say, ‘Sure, why don’t you come over. We can have dinner. Maybe we can patch things up, Alicia. You know, for the sake of the kids.’”

He leaned forward, his eyes on Cooper’s. “And she said, ‘Yes, Carl, we can,’” he said, tapping his fist against Cooper’s knee. “She said, ‘I’m going to Vegas with the girls, and when I get back Sunday, I’ll come over to get it, and we can talk. I don’t want to drag this out. But I need that medal.’”

“So give her the medal,” Cooper said, confused by Carl’s story.

“Well, that’s the thing—I was going to. But then it was gone.”

“You lost it?”

“I didn’t lose it. I know exactly where it was. It was sitting on my dresser. It was there every day, every night until . . .” He sighed and fell back against his chair.

“Until?” Cooper asked, still not following.

“Until Emma Tyler. She was, you know, over. Just a weekend thing with her, no big deal. You know how she is—she gets around.”

No way, Cooper thought. Carl Freeman? She was with Carl?