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

“Then I’ll enlighten you.” Monty’s eyes were glittering with anger. “You hired me to flush out Sally. You bugged Devon’s house and had her followed, not to mention having your grandsons try to seduce Sally’s whereabouts out of her. Now she knows too much. So you arranged to get her out of the way. Ring a bell?”

“No.” Edward gave an adamant shake of his head. “Your daughter was here with Blake last night. I haven’t seen her since.”

“And the threatening note?”

“What threatening note?”

“The one shoved under Sally’s front door last night warning Devon to back off. Still not ringing any bells?”

“No,” Edward repeated, waving his arms in a frustrated gesture. “You’re not making any sense.”

“How about it, James?” Monty turned. “Am I making sense to you? Are you running the show here, or are you just paying off doping control officers for advanced notice of the drug-testing schedule so you can time things right? You know, drug the competition when they’re sure to be disqualified?”

James went sheet white.

“That’s right, I know all about Paterson. And soon, so will the cops. I’m sure he’ll be happy to strike a deal to avoid jail time—one that includes sharing the details of your arrangement. Smart move, picking someone with a gambling problem. Someone between a rock and a hard place. He lets you know the who and where so you can make sure to add diuretics to the right drinks before the right events.”

“Shit.” James dragged a hand over his face.

“What about the phony blackmail scheme?” Monty continued. “Was that your idea, too? Very clever. You made it look like someone had a vendetta against your whole family, not just Frederick. It helped when you framed Rhodes. The poor guy figured out you were siphoning off money into all sorts of things. Paying off Paterson. Vista’s illegal research. Rhodes must have flipped out when he realized what you were doing. And you couldn’t have that. So you got rid of him and framed him for Frederick’s murder all at once.”

“Stop it, Montgomery,” Edward ordered over James’s sputtering protest. “He had nothing to do with any of that. You’re way off base.”

“Then straighten me out. You purposely misled me into thinking Frederick was suspicious of Rhodes. The truth was, it was James he was suspicious of. He found out what Golden Boy was up to and he wanted to toss him out on his ass. You couldn’t have that. It would screw up everything you’d been planning for—what you and James have been planning for.”

Edward opened his mouth to refute the accusation.

Sally cut him off.

“A few days before Frederick died, I heard you two arguing at the stables,” she said, gripping the arms of the chair. “I remember it, and so do you. Frederick was worried about a loose cannon at Pierson & Company. Someone committing criminal acts that could destroy everything your family had worked so hard to achieve. That someone was James. He was the person Frederick wanted out. Not Philip Rhodes.”

“Sounds right to me,” Monty agreed. “So, Edward, how far would you go to make sure Golden Boy stayed golden? Would you kill for it?”

“My own son?” Edward lost it. “You think I killed Frederick to keep him from firing James?”

“Did you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But you did steer me in Rhodes’s direction, purposely leading me on a wild-goose chase.”

“Fine. Yes.” Edward rose again, this time pacing around behind his desk. “I diverted you away from James. I made up the blackmail scheme. And I told you it was Rhodes who Frederick mistrusted. Rhodes wasn’t family. James is. I was protecting my grandson.”

“Wait a minute.” James looked like a cornered rat. “I didn’t know about any of this. And I sure as hell didn’t kill anyone.”

“Yeah. You’re innocent as a lamb.” Monty glared at him. “Next you’ll be telling me you don’t know about Vista and his genetic testing.”

James’s apprehensive gaze darted to his grandfather.

“Ah, so that’s your grandfather’s project, too.” Monty pounced on the opportunity to find out what Vista’s research was about. “Experimenting on horses is bad enough. But human beings? Illegal aliens who are too poor and too desperate to refuse? That’s criminal and immoral. But you already know that, don’t you, Edward? That’s why you’re paying Vista through an offshore account—the same account Rhod

es found an electronic record of the night he died.”

A muscle began twitching at Edward’s jaw. “I hired Vista as a genetic consultant. Anything else he might be involved in has nothing to do with me.”

“I doubt he’d see it that way. In fact, I’m sure he’d be very put off by your lack of loyalty—enough to spill his guts to save his own ass.” Monty reached for the phone. “Should I call and invite him over?”

“Put down the phone, Detective.” The voice came from the doorway, and Monty turned to see Merry being shoved in at gunpoint. “And while you’re at it, put down your weapon, too. You won’t be needing it.”