Fool Me Once (First Wives #1)

Lori lifted an eyebrow.

Avery laughed. “You know what that means, right, Lori?”

Lori leveled a finger in the air in Avery’s direction. “It means what happens in the Mediterranean—”

“Stays in the Mediterranean,” Miguel finished for her.

Trina laughed a little easier, smiled a bit wider. Miguel took that as an invitation and put his arm over her shoulders.

When she didn’t shrug him off, Reed put his beer down and decided maybe drinking wasn’t a great idea tonight. He couldn’t help but think of Miguel as a fox circling Trina’s henhouse. And Trina was uncharacteristically intoxicated.

Miguel reacted to Reed’s stare and lifted his chin.

“Hey Trina, what is it you do for a living?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I was a . . . a flight attendant.”

That’s right, he thought he heard that fact earlier. “Was?”

Lori leaned in. “Now she’s a pole dancer with me.”

“Again with the pole dancing.”

“And I own the strip joint.” Avery joined the lie.

“Now this I want to see,” Miguel said.

Trina stood on wobbly legs and pretended the stool was a large pole. Miguel licked his lips and Rogelio clapped.

“I think you might need to slow down.” Avery patted Trina on the shoulder.

Trina blinked a few times, her smile a little too wide. “I’m fiiine.”

“Let’s take that on the dance floor.”

Avery and Lori exchanged glances when Miguel kept Trina upright and walked her away.

Rogelio nodded at Avery, encouraging her to join his friend. She waved him off.

“Is she okay?” Avery asked Lori.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her like this.”

Miguel pulled Trina deeper on the dance floor, making it difficult for Reed to keep track of the couple. “How much has she had to drink?”

“Not much, we shared a bottle of wine at dinner, so maybe a glass then, and two drinks here. But over several hours.”

That wasn’t a woman with a high alcohol level, unless . . .

Reed glanced at the drink Trina left behind, picked it up, and sniffed. Some kind of vodka fruit combination, but he didn’t smell anything suspicious. Not that it mattered. Most of the designer stuff had no taste and no smell.

“You don’t think . . .” Lori’s question hung in the air.

Rogelio tugged on Avery’s arm.

She wasn’t having it.

“I’m not comfortable with this,” Lori said.

Neither was Reed.

“Dude! Not now!” Avery yelled at Rogelio.

His smile fell as well as his hand from her arm.

“I’m going to get her, take her back to the room.”

Lori and Avery left the table in search of Trina.

Reed put the drink down, glared at Rogelio. “I really hope I’m wrong.”

Rogelio stared, and a wave of recognition made him think that the Spaniard knew a little more English than he let on. “Problema?”

“Reed?” Lori pushed through the crowd. “They’re not here.”

With a final glare, Reed turned and followed Lori onto the dance floor. They split up and met in the entrance of the club.

“Where did they go?”

“My guess is Miguel’s room or hers.”

“Miguel is sharing a room with Rogelio,” Avery told them.

Reed took over. “You take the back of the ship, Lori take the direct route, and I’ll find the stairwell in the front. We’ll meet at her room.”

They didn’t argue and took off in different directions.

Eyes wide open, Reed weaved through the crowds toward the forward stairwell and started the long climb. He hesitated when he reached the pool deck and those that allowed couples to enjoy a romantic walk in the moonlight, then veered off his path to the maybe route of two possible lovers. He searched the starboard side of the ship, then rounded onto the port. Reed had about given up when he heard a familiar laugh.

Trina.

Her back was to him. She and Miguel stood at the railing; Miguel’s hand was behind her neck. The man was smiling.

Until he felt Reed’s stare and looked over.

Miguel directed his attention to Trina, said something Reed couldn’t hear.

Reed slowed his pace as he approached.

“I think perhaps tomorrow,” Miguel said.

“There you are.” Reed moved to Miguel’s side, took a good look at Trina. She was hardly awake, her eyes half shut, her body upright only because of the railing she held on to and the man whose arm held her waist.

“Reed, my man. Perhaps you can help me. Seems our friend isn’t feeling well.”

His alarm shot high.

“I’m fiiine. Just a little dizzy.”

“I bet,” Reed said. “Trina?”

She blinked a few times, her hair fell in her face, and she batted it away like a child swatting a mosquito.

“Lori and Avery are searching for you.”

She attempted to open her eyes wide, licked her lips. “M’kay.”

Reed weaved his arm under hers, took her weight.

“She said she needed air,” Miguel told him.

“I needed air.”

Miguel took her other side, and the two of them walked her up the remaining stairs toward her room.

Lori ran to them when they reached the hallway. “Is she okay?” Lori placed both hands on Trina’s face.

“I’m fiiine, just a li’l too much to driiink.”

“C’mon, we’re going to my room.”

“I’m okay.”

“Yep, sure you are.” Lori didn’t say anything further before opening the door to her room.

The suite had a separate sitting room and dining table. Through a set of doors, she pointed to her bed.

Miguel and Reed sat Trina down. Miguel placed her legs on the bed as Reed laid her back. Before he could stand, Trina was out cold.

Lori brushed Miguel off when he reached to remove Trina’s shoes. “I got that.”

Avery ran through the open door, past them, and to Lori’s side. “What happened?”

“I think someone drugged her,” Reed said, his eyes landing on Miguel.

“That would be my guess, too,” Miguel agreed.

What game are you playing? The question swam in Reed’s head like water down a drain.

Lori reached for the phone by the bedside.

“What are you doing?” Avery sat beside Trina and wiped the hair that had fallen in her face.

“Calling the ship’s doctor.”

Miguel shifted from foot to foot. “You should turn her on her left side in case she becomes ill.”

“Yes, this is Lori Cumberland in 1703. I need the physician right away.” She paused. “No, I can’t come down. My friend is out cold. Yes, yes, but not a lot. We think she’s been drugged. No! That isn’t the kind of person . . . okay, okay, thank you.”

Lori walked around the bed, moved Miguel out of her way, and removed Trina’s shoes.

“We’ll step in the other room,” Reed said.

“Don’t leave,” Lori told him.

“We’re not going anywhere.”

Away from the women, Miguel turned to Reed. “I know how this looks.”

Reed kept silent.

“I didn’t do it.”

“I never said you did.”

“Your eyes betray you.”