Spy Girl (Spy Girl #1)

“Then I accept your apology.”


He smiles then seals it with a sweet kiss. “And you mustn’t leave my side all day. It will likely be a stuffy affair but is filled with interesting and prominent people from around the world. Many of whom you will be seeing more of during the weekend’s activities.”

I turn and scan the crowd. “I’d like to meet them all, then,” I say, hoping it will help me uncover the plot and find the bad guys.

His eyes brighten. “Really?”

“Of course.”

“Let’s start by greeting my mother, the host of this event. You should know it was only with her help that I was able to attain the hat.”

“The hat is my favorite thing. The only kind of hat I’ve ever worn is a baseball cap. And a beret once when I tried to dress French.”

The Prince laughs. “You are adorable.” His hand moves to the small of my back as he escorts me across the lawn. He’s moving at a good clip, his fast pace probably signaling that he doesn’t want to stop to chat along the way.

The Queen greets me with an actual hug—something Europeans don’t usually do to acquaintances. “Thank you for helping my son stay out of danger yesterday,” she whispers.

I back away and slightly bow. “You’re welcome.”

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She turns to a woman standing to her left. “Anna, I’d like to present to you Huntley Von Allister. Your work looks stunning on her.” She points to my hat, or fascinator, whichever this technically is.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Von Allister. Would you mind taking a picture with me?”

I say sure and then the Queen decides to join us. The milliner’s arms aren’t very long, so I use her phone to take a selfie of the three of us.

Then I’m introduced to a whirlwind of people. So many that even with my excellent memory for details, it’s hard to keep track. I was hoping someone would stand out. Look nervous, smarmy, or like a killer, but they don’t. Once we’ve made the rounds, we work our way back to our little group of Peter, Allie, and Ari who are chatting with the Prince’s cousins and their boyfriends.

The Prince excuses himself, telling me he’ll be right back.

My initial assessment of Clarice’s boyfriend, Armend, is correct. His eyes affect me in a negative way. I should be keeping watch on him, just in case. The fact that they met only a few weeks ago and he’s suddenly here in the midst of royalty is bothersome.

Of course, I suppose the same could be said of me. I’ve known the Prince for all of three days. But it’s Ophelia’s boyfriend who I can’t stop watching. Viktor looks very uncomfortable. Nervous. He’s sweating and fidgety. I run his background through my head. Family chum of Peter Prescott. Father originally from Russia, who owns an international shipping business and as a hobby became the top yacht builder in the world. Mother is a well-known retired French prima ballerina whose father held a senior minister position in the French government.

Viktor has one hand in his pocket and is looking more and more nervous.

Like someone about to commit a crime, possibly?

Clarice turns to Peter. “Peter, just yesterday I was telling my friend who joined the Peace Corps about your father’s new interests in the world’s water. I don’t believe anyone should be allowed to own our water. It should be free to all. But he’s been buying up water around the world. I’d like to talk to him about the Terra Project.”

I quell any reaction I have when I hear those words. Ari and I share a glance.

“What’s the Terra Project?” he asks.

“It’s a resource based economy, where all people will share and work together to build a future. Everyone would have equal access to shelter, water, healthcare, and food. It’s about changing incentives and technological processes on a global scale. We’d change our incentives to build a better future without a monetary system.”

“It seems hard to imagine a world without money,” Peter says haughtily. “Can’t see my dad being interested in that.”

“Well, a long time ago, before there was money and power, people bartered for everything. The idea is also to take care of our planet by becoming a green society.”

I’m trying to focus on what she’s saying, but I can’t because Viktor still has one hand in his pocket and is looking more and more nervous. He takes out his hankie and wipes sweat from his brow.

“Hot one today,” he states to no one in particular.

“Why don’t you take off your jacket?” I suggest.

“Uh, no,” he says, and I’m really starting to worry about what’s in his pocket.

Or under his jacket.

When the Prince strides toward us, Viktor starts to move.