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

Vista sucked in a breath. “I see your point.”

“You took a stupid chance. Don’t do it again.” Edward walked past him, then paused in the doorway. “Were the preliminary results what we’d hoped for?”

“Very close.”

A terse nod. “The funeral’s tomorrow. Give me a few days. Then we’ll set something up.”

THE MAN HOVERED in the shadows, teeth chattering from the cold. He struck a match, peering at his watch. Ten twenty-four. Almost time.

Sure enough, six minutes later a black Mercedes sedan turned into the deserted parking lot. The headlights caught him, and for one

panicky instant he imagined being struck dead and left to rot.

Abruptly, the lights were extinguished and the motor was cut. The front door slammed as the driver got out. Purposeful steps approached him, then stopped.

“Aquí.” Without ceremony, a thick padded envelope was shoved at him. “Veinte mil dólares y un billete sencillo a Uruguay.”

“Twenty thousand?” He reverted to his broken English. “You said fifty.”

Furious eyes stared him down. “And you said you’d do this right. You’re lucky to be getting anything after the unforgivable way you botched things up.”

“That wasn’t my fault. You said—”

“Shut up. I know what I said. And you’ll get your full fifty thousand. But do you really want to risk being stopped by airport security and having to explain why you’re traveling to Montevideo with enough cash to fill a suitcase?”

The man fell silent.

“I didn’t think so. Take the envelope. The rest will be wired to you. If you follow instructions. If not…” A pointed glare. “Now get going. Your flight leaves in two hours. Time to disappear.”

CHAPTER 9

Devon was up and dressed before dawn. At six thirty, she went downstairs to brew a pot of coffee. To her surprise, the coffee was already brewed, and Lane was straddling a stool at the kitchen counter, mug in hand. Connie was rubbing up against his legs, Runner was inside his cage nibbling on fresh food pellets, and Terror and Scamp were playing tug-of-war with one of Lane’s sweat socks.

“Hey,” Lane greeted his sister. “I figured you’d be down about now.”

Devon blinked. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see you. It’s three thirty Pacific time.”

“Making quick time-zone adjustments is a necessary evil in my line of work. Besides, I wanted to touch base before you headed off to the clinic.” He gestured for her to pour herself some coffee and join him. “I had a couple of impromptu get-togethers with East Coast colleagues yesterday. By the time I got back, you were asleep and Monty was gone. So what happened at the Piersons’?”

“Nothing monumental. Just some clarification for Monty and initial feelers for me.” Devon plopped down beside her brother. “Monty’s the new head of security at Pierson & Company. He’s going in first thing today to begin guarding Edward Pierson’s future heirs.”

“And interrogating them in the process.” Lane set down his mug. “I’m not worried about Monty. He’s a pro. But you—let’s just say this danger game is new to you. So if you need me, I’m here.”

“Always the big brother.” Devon gave his arm a grateful squeeze. “Thanks. At the slightest sign of trouble, I promise to take you up on your offer. Right now, my part in this investigation is pretty tame.”

The telephone rang.

Devon reached for it, rolling her eyes as she did. “Except in Monty’s eyes. He’s taking this partner thing very seriously. How much do you want to bet that’s him now, doing a morning check-in? Hello?” she said into the receiver.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Monty. What a surprise.” The background noise told Devon he was in the car. “Are you heading into the city?”

“Yup. I’m getting an early start. I’m meeting Blake Pierson in his office at seven thirty. After that, I’ve got a long list of people to interview before everyone blows out of there for the funeral. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Blake mentioned something about zipping up to Yonkers right after we talk—via White Plains. Seems he’s arranged to check out Creature Comforts & Clinic and enroll his golden in obedience classes. Pretty ambitious, given he’s got a midday funeral in Manhattan. Definitely a man with a mission. So expect to be asked out.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Devon’s call-waiting signal beeped in her ear. “Hold on a second, Monty. I’ve got another call coming in.” She pressed the flash button. “Hello?”

“Devon?”