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Stefan frowned.
Even though he lived in the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern nations surrounded him, he failed to understand the hatred. He had valuable ideas which could benefit Kyros and the U.S., and he refused to allow either country to deter his mission of peace.
“I am sorry you did not get to hold the initial press conference,” Hector said quietly. “I understand how important this trip is to you, Prince Stefan.”
Stefan glanced out the window at the passing scenery. Night had descended, yet moonlight streaked the horizon, giving the rugged farm and ranchland an ethereal feel. Alpine meadows and Aspen forests filled his vision. Elk, deer, antelope, wild horses, cattle, mountain goats, and prairie animals roamed in their natural setting as if life had been turned back a century to a much simpler time.
A time before hatred and war and pollution.
“We must find out who sent this message,” Stefan said quietly, “determine if it was in fact a threat, and if so, discern what the person who sent it might know.”
“Yes, Prince Stefan,” Hector said. “Edilio is trying to trace the origin of the message as we speak.”
They passed an impressive sprawling ranch called the Seven M, then passed the Wind River reservation which jutted up to the resort property. Finally the driver veered down a side road and Stefan noted signs indicating the Wind River Ranch and Resort. The two-hundred acre secluded resort was situated on a working cattle ranch, a concept that intrigued him.
Yet this beautiful state was also troubled with pollution from their oil drilling. An area in which he possessed expertise and a problem he intended to rectify.
The main resort guest accommodations appeared as the driver wound up the drive. A sense of welcome engulfed him at the rustic charm, and the floor to ceiling windows and skylights with their majestic views of the mountains.
Minutes later, his security team ushered him through the enormous lobby, which boasted massive stone fireplaces and cozy seating nooks, to a large conference room where the other COIN members joined him.
“I’ll see that your luggage is stowed and your suite properly prepared,” Hector said, then excused himself.
Stefan nodded, then greeted each of the royals in turn while a staff waiter uncorked champagne and passed it amongst them.
“We have much business to attend to,” Amir said. He gestured toward Stefan. “Stefan has alerted us that he received a warning not to trust anyone while here. We do not take this warning lightly. Yet we must forge ahead unscathed by the hostility of those who oppose us.”
“Here, here,” Sebastian said, then raised his champagne flute for a toast.
The men clinked glasses.
“The summit begins tomorrow, but tonight is for us to relax.” A broad smile filled Amir’s face. “I chose this resort for its privacy, beauty and charming hospitality. It would be shameful if we did not become acquainted with the area and partake of the amenities offered.”
“I for one, am looking forward to those amenities,” Stefan said with a devilish grin. “And something the locals call Shoshone lamb and navy beans.”
The men laughed.
“I think a massage might be in order.” Antoine rolled his shoulders. “The long travels seem to have created a kink in my neck.”
More laughter followed as the men chatted about the possibility of attending an American rodeo, trout fishing, and hiking. A waiter appeared announcing dinner, and they were escorted into a private dining suite. Crystal chandeliers, a massive oak table, ornate molding and a picturesque view of the winding river added ambience to the artistically presented array of appetizers, meats, vegetables and desserts.
Stefan lacked a sweet tooth but tried each item displayed, his belly bulging from the fine cuisine. After dinner, drinks were served in a ballroom where they actually mingled with other guests. Stefan was surprised at the warm welcome, his earlier worries dissipating as the drinks and conversation flowed.
Efraim approached him, cognac in hand. “Amir has arranged a limo to drive us to the town of Dumont for some local flavor.”
Stefan arched a brow. “Local flavor? That sounds interesting.”
Efraim laughed. “Yes, no politics tonight. Our friend wants to play.”
“Aren’t you worried about the threat?” Antoine asked.
Amir shrugged. “If we let threats stop us, we would lock ourselves away for eternity and accomplish nothing.”
Stefan nodded, although a frisson of alarm traveled up his spine.
Hector, always the fussy assistant, pulled Stefan aside. “Are you certain this is a good idea, sir? Perhaps you should remain here where it is secure.”
“Amir is right. Do not worry so much, Hector,” Stefan said. “This is my opportunity to see another part of this beautiful state and understand the people and their culture before visiting the oil drilling sites.”
Hector’s gray brows furrowed with concern, but Stefan dismissed him and hurried to join the others.
Dumont was located at the foot of the mountains and served as a point of departure for camping, fishing, hunting, mountaineering, and wilderness travel. They passed a national park as they drove into the town, then the city hall, a museum of Native American history, a casino, bed and breakfast, sporting goods shop, bike shop, Museum of the West, and various other businesses along the square.
“Dumont was named after a famous female expert gambler,” Amir said as they climbed out at a rustic building where loud country music floated in the air.
“Perhaps we should try a game of twenty-one?”
Sebastian and Antoine exchanged grins. “I intend to people watch,” Sebastian said with a devious wink.
Stefan grinned. “You mean women watch?”
“Yes.” Sebastian shrugged. “Purely research, mind you.”
“Right, brother. We shall see what the west holds,” Antoine said with a chuckle.
Stefan tensed as their security guards surrounded them. He would have preferred to visit the town uninhibited by the constant barrage of protectors yet knew it was futile to argue. Still, they made quite an entrance as the agents swept them in.
Locals stared and whispered, some snapping pictures with their mobile phones. A few women gawked and approached for autographs but the security agents warded them off.
Amir seemed preoccupied, as if he was searching the room for someone, and Stefan wondered if he had made friends on his previous visit to the town.
Country music blared, the locals participated in some strange dance called square dancing and clogging, but all the men were entertained.
By 2:00 a.m., jet lag and fatigue set in, and the men filed out, the late night patrons of the honky tonk having imbibed too much to gawk any longer. It appeared that alcohol softened the haze of animosity between the cultures. The fact that Stefan, Antoine and Sebastian had warmed to a few patrons and forced security to grant them some leeway hadn’t hurt their cause, either. Efraim, on the other hand, continued to harbor anti-American sentiment.
Stefan yawned as the limo deposited them back at the resort. “Thank you, Amir, for showing us all a good night. If the remainder of the trip goes as smoothly, we will be leaving here with the COIN compact signed.”
The other royals climbed out, each agreeing, but Amir remained by the side of the limo. “I have enjoyed it immensely, my friends. But I have an errand to do.”
Stefan checked his watch. “At this hour?”
Antoine poked his twin brother. “You know our friend is a rebel, what the Americans call, a party animal.”
Amir laughed. “You are right, I am not ready to end the party tonight. I will see you tomorrow at the summit.”
Amir’s security agent seemed irritated at Amir’s decision, but allowed Amir to settle back in the car, then he joined him, and the limo disappeared again.
The security agents escorted Stefan and his friends to their private quarters, and Stefan dismissed Edilio so he could retire for the night.
Before going to bed, Stefan checked to make sure his notes for the next day’s presentation were in order. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned when a pounding sounded at the door.
“Prince Stefan,” Edilio shouted. “Sheik Aziz says it is urgent.”
Stefan rushed to answer the door. Efraim bolted inside, his features contorted with worry. He grabbed the remote control and flipped on the television set.
“What is wrong, Efraim?” Stefan asked, his own heart suddenly pounding.
“A limo just exploded a few miles from here.”
The special news broadcast burst onto the screen, cameras focusing on a burning vehicle. Smoke billowed toward the sky as rescue workers converged to douse the flames and save whoever might be inside.
“That limo,” Efraim said in a choked whisper. “It looks exactly like the one that just dropped us off.”
Stefan’s blood ran cold.
The very limo Amir had left in only moments earlier.
Had Amir made it out alive?
Chapter Two
Jane’s cell phone buzzed, jerking her from a restless sleep. She’d been dreaming about high school when she was a science geek and the popular kids had made fun of her.
They’d tied test tubes filled with condoms on her locker, then spray painted the words virgin forever on the front. The football team had thought it hysterical.
She had cried the rest of the afternoon.
The phone buzzed again, and she shoved the covers away from her face, cataloging the memory into forget mode as she reached for the phone. The ringtone signaled this call was work.
Not that she had many personal calls. That would require a personal life, and plain Jane Cameron didn’t have one.
Her gaze landed on the clock as she answered the call. 2:50 a.m. What now? “Jane speaking.”
“Jane, it’s Ralph. Get your butt out to Snake Valley Road. We got us a crime scene.”
“What happened?”
“Car bomb,” Ralph said, his voice raspy as if he’d been running. Of course with his extra thirty pounds, he wasn’t in the best of shape anyway.
“Injuries?”
“Yeah. One dead.” Ralph wheezed a breath. “Don’t know if there were other passengers, but them security dudes following them royals showed up. Makes you wonder…”
The hushed exit from the airport replayed in Jane’s mind, and she instantly became alert. She could still see Prince Stefan’s piercing green eyes searching the area as if he suspected trouble. Had he been inside the limo when it blew up?
She took a deep breath. “The royals were attacked?”
“Don’t know for sure,” Ralph said. “Sheriff Wolf’s checking to see who was inside.”
Stunned by how much it bothered her that the prince and his friends might have been murdered, Jane rubbed her hands over her eyes, then sighed.
She was not caught up in the grandeur of the royal blood like her own mother had been. For God’s sakes, Prince Lutece and his friends were just men. They put their pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else.
Except they wore robes of silk, had private valets to help them put their pants on, and held the future of entire nations in their hands.
But look where falling for a diplomat had landed her mother. Media attention and notoriety at first.
Then the man had cheated on her, made a fool out of her for all the world to see, and dumped her.
“Jane? If you’re not up to this, I’ll call someone else,” Ralph said with his usual passive aggressive tone.
The hell he would. Ralph had been gunning to have her replaced ever since she’d been assigned to his team. He was major dark ages, thought women belonged in the kitchen waiting on their men hand and foot, and in the bedroom, catering to their every need, not in the lab or carrying a gun.
Not her style.
She could outshoot, outtalk and outsmart him, and she intended to prove that.
“Of course I’m up to it.” Jane stood, shucking off her boxer pajama shorts and reaching for a pair of well-worn jeans among the pile of clothes on her floor. “I’ll be right there.”
Jane pulled on a T-shirt and boots, yanked her shoulder length hair into a ponytail, stuffed a baseball hat on her head, grabbed her weapon and rushed toward the door.
All week they’d been on standby in case there was a threat to the dignitaries, and now it looked as if their worst fears might have come true.
She jogged to her SUV, started the engine and peeled from the drive. The jeep bounced over the country road leading away from her cabin outside Dumont, slinging gravel as she sped down Snake Valley Road. The swirling blue lights of the sheriff’s white Dodge SUV lit the sky as she approached the bomb site, the paramedics and fire engine adding to the chaos.
A news van—Danny Harold’s station—sat parked next to the ambulance. As she climbed out, deputies were busy roping off the crime scene, and Sheriff Wolf ordered Harold behind the yellow tape.
Her gaze zeroed in on the charred body lying on the ground, and her throat closed. Was the dead man one of the royals, possibly Prince Stefan?
STEFAN AND EFRAIM rushed to the conference room to meet the other royals who had been quickly informed of the car bomb. “Was Amir inside the vehicle when it exploded?” Stefan asked.
Fahad Bahir entered, his face a mask of anger. “I believe so, but I’ve spoken with Sheriff Wolf and only one body was recovered. I’m on my way to the scene now to see if identification is possible.”
“I will go with you,” Stefan said. “I want to examine the bomb mechanism myself.” Bombs were his expertise in the military. A bone of contention for some Americans, so he didn’t exactly publicize the fact.
“The press, the police,” Efraim said, wiping perspiration from his brow. “They will demand to know what happened. Where we were, if Amir was inside.”
“And why he was traveling alone in the middle of the night,” Sebastian added. “Where was he going?” Antoine asked.
Tension stretched across the room as everyone traded questioning looks. Apparently their friend had not confided in any of them. “We must not alert the press or the summit members until we know if Amir survived,” Fahad said.
“I agree,” Stefan said. “It could create panic and interfere with the summit.”
“We must also protect Amir’s family,” Efraim said.
“There is no need to alarm them until we’re certain what happened to Amir and if he is safe.”
A chorus of nods solidified the agreement.
