Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Pete 'Monty' Montgomery 1)

“Now that one won’t fly.” With a wry grin, Frederick shot down her final stipulation. “Not when I know your daughter Devon is a veterinarian. And that the practice she’s affiliated with is a combination Mount Sinai and Club Med for pets.”

“She’s not just affiliated with Creature Comforts & Clinic,” Sally corrected, her eyes sparkling with pride. “Not as of January first. She’s a junior partner. The youngest one in the practice.” Realizing how boastful she sounded, Sally broke off with a self-deprecating expression. “Sorry. Just a burst of maternal pride.”

“Don’t apologize. That’s wonderful news. And quite an accomplishment. I haven’t forgotten that when my family bought this farm from the Wilsons, one of the reasons you asked to keep your job exercising the horses was to earn extra income. As I recall, you and your ex were putting Devon through college and Cornell Veterinary School. Well, your efforts were obviously rewarded. You have a remarkable daughter. Then again, she has a remarkable mother.”

Sally accepted the compliment with a smile. “I’m flattered.”

“Flattered enough to join me this weekend? I’ll even alter my plans for you. I’d intended to leave Thursday, but I’ll gladly wait the extra day, just to enjoy your company.”

“Actually, you wouldn’t need to. I just remembered that school’s closed this Friday. The heating system’s being fixed.”

“If that isn’t fate, what is?” Frederick asked, clearly pleased. “Then it’s settled. We’ll leave Thursday, right after school.”

Sally relented another notch. “Two bedrooms?” she requalified.

“With a bathroom separating them. Also, a spectacular view and incredible hiking trails. Tell you what. I’ll even give ice skating a shot. But I draw the line at cross-country skiing. I’m not that courageous.”

“Okay, but you don’t know what you’re missing.” With a spontaneous rush of enthusiasm, Sally decided to go for it. A weekend in the mountains. A chance to replace old memories with new ones. She had to try. “It sounds like just what I need. I’ll be packed and ready to leave by four.”

“Consider it a plan.”

CHAPTER 2

Devon Montgomery shrugged out of her lab coat and hung it away, rubbing the back of her neck. Talk about exhaustion. She’d worked a twelve-hour day, with two emergency surgeries and one emergency visit: a month-old black-and-white kitten named Marble with a urinary tract infection.

There’d been such pandemonium at Creature Comforts & Clinic today that the celebration honoring Devon’s promotion to junior partner had been forgotten. By the time anyone remembered the refreshments that the office staff had arranged in the conference room, the ice-cream cake had melted down to a puddle and the pot of coffee had turned to mud.

It didn’t matter. Instead of a party, Devon had the joy of saving an Irish setter’s life, giving a cockatiel back her gift of flight, and diagnosing Marble’s infection so she could prescribe some meds and put him back in the arms of little Amy Green, his grateful five-year-old owner.

No party could compare with that.

But now things were quiet. The adrenaline rush that had carried Devon through the day plummeted. Fatigue set in. And her personal concerns took over.

Automatically, she headed for the clinic’s boarding facilities to check on Scamp, who’d been dropped off by Devon’s mother early that morning. She found him well and happy, frolicking around the doggie playroom with one of the boarding techs, working off some extra energy. Not a surprise. Sandy Adams, the on-duty tech playing with Scamp, was one of his favorite people. So he was having the time of his life.

Then again, it wasn’t really Scamp Devon was brooding over. It was his owner.

Dammit, Mom, what’s going on with you? she mused silently, making her way down the halls of Creature Comforts & Clinic. Why are you rushing into this weekend getaway? And if you’re as upbeat as you say you are, why were you acting so weird?

Something didn’t feel right.

Devon frowned, heading back toward her office. Her footsteps echoed on the ceramic tile floor as she passed the now-empty examination rooms. Hard to believe this was the same place that not a few hours ago had been exploding with activity and vibrating with barks and meows. Now, at 9

P.M., the regular clinic facilities were silent. Not so silent, of course, in other portions of the complex. The state-of-the-art hospitalization wing was hopping, as veterinary techs checked on patients and administered medications. Adjacent to the clinic were the boarding and exercising facilities, which spanned acres of the clinic’s grounds. There, skilled aides took the animals through their evening routines and settled them down for the night, while other staff accommodated late-arriving executives picking up their pets from doggie day care. As for the training center, it was quiet, since no obedience classes were scheduled till tomorrow.

Devon was proud of this place. Proud that it had been heralded by the New York Times as one of Westchester County’s most promising new business enterprises. Prouder that they’d described it as “impressive, with top-notch medical care and obedience training, and the penultimate in boarding facilities.”

Proudest of all that, at twenty-eight, she was the youngest junior partner in a practice that selected its staff from the best of the best.

She reached her new corner office, glancing briefly at the gold plate that read DEVON MONTGOMERY, DVM, to remind herself that this coveted space was indeed hers. Then she went inside and sank down behind the cherry desk. She released the clip that held back her long, golden brown hair, letting it tumble down past her shoulders. Impatiently raking her fingers through it, she leaned her head back against the chair and began massaging her temples. Talk about being stressed out.

She glanced at her watch. Dinnertime in L.A.

Of course, that didn’t mean a damned thing. He could be anywhere in the world.

She picked up the phone, punched in a cell number, and waited while the call rang through.

“Hey, Dev.” Her thirty-two-year-old brother, Lane, picked up on the third ring. He sounded winded but unsurprised. “I’m home. Right here in safe old L.A. So if you’re calling to check in, you can stop worrying. What’s the matter—you’re on duty and it’s a slow night?”