Brandishing a Crown. Rita Herron

“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.

      “That message I received seems even more suspicious now,”