“It’s the pattern of the differences that’s bugging me. The wet blood is in random splatters. And where they’re located…it’s just not sitting right with me. That’s why I made that phone call. I’ve got an old college buddy who’s now a hematologist. I want his take on this.”
“Hey, if you’ve got a gut instinct on this, go with it,” Monty said. “But don’t take too long. Morgan’s gonna need you. Besides…” A hint of a grin. “She’s a knockout in that black dress—what little of it there is. It’s got no back, no straps, and a neckline that’s way too low to leave her alone in a roomful of horny men.”
Lane shot his father a look. “I’ll be there in a half hour. If anyone comes near her before then, pull out your Glock and shoot to kill.”
THE PARTY WAS in full swing when Monty arrived.
He handed his overcoat to the attendant at the door, accepted a glass of eggnog and a plateful of his all-time favorite hors d’oeuvre—pigs in a blanket.
“Detective Montgomery.” Jill Shore happened to be standing close by when he appeared. She looked surprised, and a little uncomfortable, at seeing him. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
He flashed her that magnetic smile that Lane had inherited. “Morgan invited me,” he explained. “I think she took pity because, with all the overtime I’ve been putting in, I haven’t seen my wife all week. Also, aside from the couple of meals I’ve had at your grandfather’s deli, I haven’t eaten anything that’s not out of a can.”
Jill’s natural grace took over. “That does sound pretty bleak.”
“It is. These pigs in a blanket look like a five-star gourmet feast.” Sobering, Monty lowered his voice to a quiet undertone. “Please don’t worry. I’m aware the walls have ears. I’ll act accordingly.”
Gratitude flashed across Jill’s face. “Thank you. And happy holidays.”
“The same to you.” Monty paused, feeling like a shit for misleading her into thinking his motives here were strictly celebratory. Jill Shore was a warm, likable young woman. She didn’t deserve the fallout she was about to endure. Justice or not, the whole thing sucked. “I’m sorry your family’s been turned upside down,” he heard himself add.
“I know you are.” Jill reached out and squeezed his arm. “But I also know you’re helping Morgan. She’s part of my family, too. So enjoy Winshore’s contribution to the season. Eat, drink, and be merry.”
“No need to ask twice.” Monty gave her a paternal wink, then headed off to the left. He’d spotted Morgan, who was standing in a less hectic niche, chatting with Karly. Karly’s high color said she’d either just arrived or she was very nervous. Probably both.
“Ladies,” he greeted. “You both look beautiful.”
“Hi, Monty. You look very handsome yourself.” Morgan’s gaze flickered past him. “Is Lane with you?”
“He had a few loose ends to tie up. He’ll be here within a half hour.”
“Hello, Detective.” Karly smoothed a fold of her black chiffon Chanel cocktail dress. “And thank you for the compliment. You can never get too many of those.”
Actually, now that Monty was seeing Karly close-up, he had to rectify his original assessment. The heightened color was definitely from the winter chill. Rather than nervous, she looked determined, a purposeful glint in her eyes as she readied herself to right a heinous, seventeen-year-old wrong.
“How did your visit with Jonah go?” Monty asked quietly.
That elicited a spontaneous smile. “He’s a terrific kid. Smart, talented, and with a great future ahead of him. Speaking of which, he talks about your son as if he walks on water. He’s obviously been an amazing mentor.”
“He likes Jonah—his photographic instincts, his drive, his energy. Between you and me, he thinks he’s going to be a world-class photographer.” Monty glanced at Morgan, who was definitely pale and on edge. “Hey,” he said, calling for her attention. “I’m supposed to find out if any of the guys have hit on you. I have orders from Lane to shoot first and ask questions later.”
Morgan’s lips quirked. “You always know how to make me smile.”
“I wasn’t kidding. Lane’s become very possessive these days.” Without changing expressions or altering his demeanor, Monty asked, “Where’s Arthur? Has he spotted me yet?”
“He and Elyse are diagonally to your right and halfway across the room,” Morgan supplied, all humor having vanished. “And I don’t think so. There’s a small cluster of guests blocking his view.”
“How many guests?”
Morgan counted. “Five.”
“Can you go over there and join them, shift the group over a little so he’ll have an unimpeded view?”
“I can try.”
“Good. Do it.” Monty’s gaze shifted back to Karly. “Do you have a clear view of him?”
“Yes,” she supplied, after a quick check.