“You’d better be joking.”
“I’ll let you know afterward.” Monty’s grin faded as his thoughts reverted back to the investigation. “I’ll lay out the James theory for Blake. I want to see how he reacts, and how much he spills to Grandpa. Oh, and I’ll tell him you know about the blackmail aspect of the case. I’ll do that when I inform him you’re keeping your Sunday night date with James.”
Devon’s head came up. “You want me to see him?”
A nod. “Right here in this very house. For dinner and alone time. He’ll be thrilled. It’s just what he’s been angling for.”
“Monty, what are you cooking up now?”
“Lane and Merry will go out for the evening. You’ll be wearing a wire. And I’ll be outside in my car, listening. You and I can write your script beforehand. I’ll record every word that’s said. If James is our guy, we’ll find out. And we’ll nail him.”
EDWARD SLAMMED HIS car door shut.
Turning up his collar against the cold, he glanced around, ensuring he was alone. The frozen acres of land that composed his farm were deserted. The house was far enough away, and occupied only by his staff. And the stables were shut tight.
He made his way toward them, marching up to the trailer that was parked there.
A decisive knock. “Vista, it’s me,” he announced.
Shuffling sounds came from within.
The door opened, and Lawrence Vista poked his head out. “Come in.”
Edward climbed inside.
Other than being antiseptically clean and free of clutter, the place looked like any other veterinary trailer belonging to an equestrian specialist. Medical equipment, examination stalls, and floor-to-ceiling closets.
It’s what was inside those closets that made all the difference. That, and what was hidden behind the curtain.
Edward shoved his hands in his pockets and leveled a hard stare at Vista. “How close are we?”
Behind his glasses, the other man blinked. “You know the answer to that. The preliminary results were positive. We’re almost there. A few more weeks, maybe.”
“That’s not good enough. Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve got to speed this process up. I need immediate results.”
Beads of perspiration broke out on Vista’s brow. “Why? Has something happened?”
“Not yet. But we’ve run out of time.”
“This isn’t a race. We can’t arbitrarily speed things up. Not without major health risks. Plus, I need to wait a reasonable amount of time to ensure there are no adverse reactions.”
“I don’t give a damn,” Edward snapped. “I’m almost eighty. My heart’s in lousy shape. I’ve got no idea how long I’ll be here. And I need to secure my legacy. That’s what I pay you for.”
“I still don’t see the urgency—”
“You don’t have to see it. You have to get results. Now.” Edward dragged a shaky palm over his face. “Two people close to me are dead. The cops are crawling around Pierson & Company. How long do you think it’ll be before they extend that investigation to my apartment, and then to my farm? What the hell are we going to tell them when they knock on your door for questioning—and when they can’t reconcile your extravagant lifestyle with what I’m supposedly paying you?”
All the color drained from Vista’s face. “Why would they question me? How do I factor into a murder investigation?”
“Everything factors into a murder investigation,” Edward shot back, struggling to keep his temper in check. “Look. Let’s not waste time bickering. Just get this done. I don’t care how. Take pills. Drink coffee. Do whatever you have to. But pick up the pace. Work twenty-four/seven. I want this finished, tested, and ready in a week. That’ll give us a month before Wellington’s big CSIO Olympic qualifying event. James will be winning that.”
CHAPTER 21
Blake’s brows rose as he opened his front door. “Detective Montgomery.