Dark Room (Pete 'Monty' Montgomery 2)

Yup, Lane could definitely get used to this.

Glancing across the aisle at Jonah, he had to grin. The kid had been awestruck during the entire limo ride. His jaw had dropped when they boarded the private jet provided by one of Daniel Kellerman’s business associates. And it had remained that way as he marveled at the lush interior, smooth ride, high speed, and sumptuous brunch that accompanied their flight.

Right now, he was glued to the window, staring out at the view.

And what a view it was.

Catching his first glimpse of the peaks below, Lane could see why people referred to this as God’s country. The San Juans were breathtaking, a cluster of white peaks piercing a bluebird sky.

“Wow,” Jonah breathed, grabbing his camera. “Talk about awesome.”

“No argument,” Lane murmured. “It doesn’t get any closer to heaven than this.”

Nature at its most miraculous unfurled before them. She’d worked in their favor, since autumn in Colorado had been particularly snowy, leaving the alpine zones awash in powder. That had prompted consideration of an early season opening. Congressman Shore’s influence and the fact that his adventures were being featured in Time magazine clinched it. The heli-skiing company caved easily, and agreed to open even earlier than contemplated. Hell, they couldn’t buy that kind of publicity for any amount of money.

“Are we heli-skiing today?” Jonah asked.

“We?” Lane arched a brow.

A sheepish grin. “I heard my mother’s end of your conversation today. I know she told you what a good skier I am, how many years I’ve been at it. I started with my youth group when I was eight. I’ve been skiing the black diamond trails since I was twelve.”

“Quit while you’re ahead.” Lane cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I got the whole rundown from your mom. And since you were eavesdropping, I’m sure you know I agreed to let you take part in the heli-skiing. As long as you listen to our guide and don’t try anything dumb.”

“I will. And I won’t.” Jonah’s whole face lit up. “Think of the cool shots I can get when I’m up close, cutting through that heavy powder, zooming down the mountain with you and the congressman.”

Arthur had just finished up a phone call and caught the tail end of the conversation. “Sounds like he’s got the bug, Lane.” He chuckled. “Another powder hound in the making.” He turned to Jonah. “I don’t blame you. When I was seventeen, you couldn’t have dragged me away from an adventure like this.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jonah looked from one of them to the other. “Do we go right away?”

“Nope.” Arthur shook his head. “There’s not enough daylight left. Safety and the heli-skiing company say we wait till morning. Don’t look so crestfallen,” he added, seeing Jonah’s expression. “We’ve got something cool on tap for today, too. The company’s giving us an aerial tour of the mountains we’ll be skiing tomorrow. That means a helicopter ride and a preview of what’s to come.”

“And lots of photo ops,” Jonah added, his upbeat mood restored. He peered out the window, his forehead crinkled as he intently scrutinized his field of view. “Time is going to be blown away by what we give them.”

SEVENTEEN

Morgan was a nervous wreck when she showed up on Monty’s doorstep at two-thirty.

She’d spent the morning trying to prepare herself for what lay ahead. She’d gone through the motions of her day, called the hospital to check on Rachel’s condition—which, thankfully, was improved—and forced down a sandwich in the office kitchen with Jill and Beth.

The fact that Monty hadn’t called meant no new information had surfaced, which put extra pressure on the session they were about to have. More and more she was starting to believe that she and her memories were going to be central to solving her parents’ murders.

Monty gave her an encouraging look when he opened the door. Morgan didn’t delude herself into thinking it signified anything but emotional support. She gave him her coat, straightened her shoulders, and marched into his office like a prisoner facing a firing squad.

“Hey, relax. We’ll get through this.” Monty shoved a mug into her hands. “Here’s something to help. My famous hot chocolate. Whipped cream and all. I perfected the formula when my kids were young. And trust me. You don’t want my coffee. Sally says it tastes like driveway sealer. Besides, you’re wired enough. This’ll soothe you. Guaranteed.”

“Thank you—Monty.” This time the name came easier. “Not just for the hot chocolate, but for trying to calm me down. Although I admit that chocolate’s my weakness; it’s the ultimate comfort food.” Morgan took a sip, then gave him a thumbs-up. “Yum. Definitely worthy of its reputation.”

“Told you.” He gestured toward his well-worn office sofa. “Have a seat.”

Nodding, Morgan crossed over and sank down on the tweed cushion. “I take it nothing turned up this morning.”

“Actually, yeah, something did.” Monty dropped into the easy chair across from her, the files they were about to peruse spread out on the rectangular table between them. “But not what you were expecting.”

The mug paused halfway to Morgan’s lips. “What then?” Her eyes widened as she listened to the details Elyse had filled Monty in on. “I had no idea about any of this.”

“No one did. Apparently, Elyse kept it to herself.”

“Poor thing. She’s the ultimate nurturer; always trying to protect her family. But now that she knows that the hang-ups and the harassment were part of a bigger agenda, she must be thrown.”