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“Hey, don’t let that vivid imagination of yours take over.” Monty berated himself for opening up his big mouth. “You know very well that I always go into overdrive when I see the end in sight.”
“Is that what you see this time?”
“Yes. So take a deep breath and leave the worrying to me.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Maybe. But try.”
“Only if you—”
“I’ll call you if there’s anything to tell,” Monty assured her.
“Okay.” Sally didn’t sound convinced. “Good night, Pete.”
“Sweet dreams.” Monty punched off the Bat Phone and shoved it in his jeans pocket. He took another belt of coffee, staring off into space and frowning.
No matter how he sugarcoated things to Sally, he was uneasy. Something was wrong.
He’d stay put until he knew what it was.
SOMETHING JARRED DEVON out of a fitful sleep.
Her eyes snapped open. For a second, she couldn’t get her bearings. Then she realized she was in her mother’s house, in her old bedroom. Blake’s arm was draped across her, his naked body wrapped around hers.
What had awakened her?
She squirmed into a sitting position, whisking her hair off her face and groping around the nightstand until she found the lamp and switched it on.
Soft light filtered through the room, illuminating the digits on the alarm clock. Two forty.
She scanned the room. Nothing. No one.
She slipped out of bed, shrugged into her robe, and padded out of the bedroom. The hall was quiet. So were the stairs. From the landing, she could see that the front door was shut, the dead bolt thrown.
She was about to turn around and return to bed, chalking the whole thing up to her imagination, when she spied the white business envelope lying on the hardwood floor just inside the front door. Heart thumping, she made her way downstairs and over to the door to pick it up.
Inside was a single folded sheet, its message two laser-printed lines:
Mind your own business. Stay away from the Piersons—all of them. Or your mother won’t be the only Montgomery in danger.
Clutching the note, Devon marched forward, unlocked the front door, and threw it open.
There was no sign of anyone.
She went outside, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. She shivered, her breath coming in cold misty puffs as she scrutinized the grounds.
Deserted.
For a long moment, she stood motionless, waiting to see if there was any movement in the woods surrounding her mother’s property.
The night was still.
Slowly, she made her way back inside, rereading the note as she locked the door.
“Devon?” Blake was halfway downstairs. “What’s wrong?”
“This.” Devon ascended the steps and handed him the page, continuing on her way to the bedroom.
