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

“You time-stamped my arrival?” Devon asked in amazement.

“Hey, waiting up is what big brothers do.”

“I don’t believe this.” Devon finished braiding her hair, then opened the cabinet and reached for a mug. “My daddy and my big brother lying in wait like a posse.” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “Last time I checked, I was an adult. Has that changed without my knowledge?”

“Adults remember to call in,” Monty stated flatly. “So do partners. Especially if that partner is the other partner’s daughter, and she’s been out with a guy who’s key to their investigation.”

A twinge of guilt intruded on Devon’s irritation. “I meant to call. But as Lane pointed out, it was late. And this morning, I overslept.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not going anywhere until you tell me what went on last night.”

“On that note, I’ll leave you two alone.” Polishing off his coffee, Lane rose and flashed Devon a wry grin. “I’d suggest omitting the sordid details. I don’t think Monty’s open-minded enough for that.”

“Gee, thanks.” Devon’s glare was blistering. “Why is it I wanted you home again?”

“Because I keep life interesting.” Lane tugged her braid and headed for the door. “Play nice, you two.”

Devon watched him go, then turned back to her father. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Monty took a gulp of coffee. “And I didn’t mean for you to get involved with Blake Pierson.”

“I know. Neither did I.” She sank down onto a stool. “I just have a few minutes. So let’s get right down to what I learned. Blake knows I’m working with you. He also knows that you have doubts about Rhodes’s death being tagged a suicide. In fact, he knows pretty much your whole MO on this case—with a few exceptions.”

Monty’s jaw tightened. “How?”

“Mostly by asking the right people the right questions, then drawing his own conclusions,” Devon answered honestly. “The rest he got from me. I took a calculated risk. In my opinion, it paid off.”

“This had better be good.”

“It’s bits and pieces of the puzzle, and securing a bunch of loose ends. Louise Chambers, for instance. She showed up at Blake’s door while I was there. She’s definitely angling for him. She turned green when she saw me. Blake sent her on her way. I grilled him. He’s not involved with her. That doesn’t mean she’s not the killer. Although Blake doesn’t think so.” Devon filled Monty in on Blake’s rationale.

“Same thoughts I had,” Monty acknowledged. “Still, there’s something about that woman….” A frustrated grunt. “I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her. I’m not ready to cross her off the suspect list. She’s a barracuda.”

“I agree. Speaking of trust, Blake doesn’t trust James any more than we do—although he’s hesitant to slam him outright.”

Monty’s brows rose. “How much about James did you get into? Did you discuss the extortion?”

“No. That’s one of the things I held back on. I knew from you that Blake was privy to the blackmail scheme. On the flip side, he wasn’t sure how much I knew. He was waiting for me to broach the subject. I didn’t. I needed your permission first.”

Monty studied her intently. “You really trust this guy.”

“In the ways that matter most, yes, I do.”

“You’re about as objective as Juliet was about Romeo.”

“Cut it out, Monty.” Devon waved away his comment. “I’m not a starry-eyed girl. Nor am I wearing blinders. Yes, Blake is a Pierson through and through. And, yes, he’s determined to protect his family. I can’t exactly fault him for that. If I did, I’d be a hypocrite, since I’m doing the same for my family.”

“What about the fact that he went after you hot and heavy? Did he admit it was Edward’s idea?”

“It was more complicated than that. But yes, Blake admitted that his grandfather told him to stick close to me, in case Mom showed up at my door. Blake’s keeping tabs on me, just like I’m keeping tabs on him.”

“Go on.”

“He’s dead set on finding out who killed his uncle and Philip Rhodes.” Devon paused. “Like I said, he has a good handle on you. He spelled out the whole theory he believes you’re operating on—and he was right. What’s more, he agreed with it. He asked that you go to him directly, and he’ll do what he can to help.”

“You’re kidding. What made him…?” Monty rubbed a palm across his jaw. “Never mind. I’m not going to ask what prompted Blake’s unexpected burst of candor. Lane’s right. I don’t want to know.”

Devon hid her smile. “With regard to what else I didn’t tell Blake, I kept quiet about Mom, except to reiterate what he already knew. Anything pertaining to her whereabouts stays in this house.”