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“Nope.” He winked. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
THE PIERSON FARM was blanketed by snow. Under any other circumstances, it would be a breathtaking view to pause and admire, a veritable winter wonderland.
But not today.
Monty eased the truck up the driveway. In the circular section nearest the front door, a police car was parked. It was covered with enough snow to indicate it had been there a few hours.
The house seemed eerily quiet, although the drone of voices coming from down the hall said that everyone was gathered in the living room.
Blake led the cops in that direction.
At the entrance, they stopped.
Inside were Edward, Anne, and James Pierson, along with Dr. Lawrence Vista and a man Devon didn’t know, but quickly determined to be Edward’s cardiologist, Dr. Richards.
“Louise isn’t here yet,” Blake muttered, assessing the room.
“She will be,” Devon assured him. “It’s only an hour and change since you called her. Metro North takes at least that long to reach the train station nearest here. She’s also up against rush hour and a snowstorm. Give her time.”
A lawyer and a doctor, she mused silently. Clearly, Edward needed both.
He was sitting on the sofa, gripping a glass of water in a trembling hand. He looked a little out of it, as if he’d been sedated, and there was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around his arm. Dr. Richards stood to his right, listening intently through his stethoscope and pumping the pressure gauge as he monitored Edward’s vital signs.
Anne was seated on the sofa beside her husband, her hands folded primly in her lap, her icy gaze fixed straight ahead. Across from her, James was crumpled in one chair, his head buried in his hands. Vista was perched in the opposite chair, his lips pressed tightly together as if to prevent himself from speaking.
The two cops present were jotting down notes, clearly trying to unnerve the Piersons into talking. Just as clearly, the interrogation was getting nowhere.
“Blake.” Edward looked up, spotting his grandson and acknowledging him, first with a ray of hope, then—after comprehending that he was aligned with Devon and Monty—with renewed anxiety. “Don’t tell me you’re part of this witch hunt.”
Blake didn’t respond. Instead, he looked at Dr. Richards. “What’s my grandfather’s medical condition?”
“Stable,” the doctor responded, having tugged his stethoscope out of his ears. “Earlier, he had some chest pains and muscle weakness. That’s no surprise, given the stress he’s under. I gave him a mild sedative. The symptoms appear to have subsided. That doesn’t mean he’s out of the woods. I’m keeping my eye on his vital signs. He shouldn’t be agitated.”
Blake heard Dr. Richards’s warning loud and clear.
“That’s going to be tough, considering the circumstances,” he responded flatly. He looked like he wanted to say more, then changed his mind. His mouth snapped shut and a muscle worked at his jaw as he struggled for control.
Deputy Tompkins cleared his throat and stepped into the room, heading over to the sofa. “Anne Pierson, you’re under arrest for the murder of Frederick Pierson, the murder of Philip Rhodes, and the attempted murder of Peter, Sally, and Meredith Montgomery. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right—”
“To an attorney,” Anne finished for him, raising her regal head. “Yes, I know, Officer. And, as I told these two gentlemen, my attorney is on her way. Until she arrives, I have nothing to say.”
“Of course you don’t.” Monty joined Tompkins in the room. “I suggest we all sit down and wait for Ms. Chambers together.” He turned long enough to whip out his license and flash it at one of the two cops who’d been detaining the Piersons. “Pete Montgomery, private investigator,” he introduced himself.
A flicker of respect crossed the officer’s face. “Detective Montgomery, yeah, the sheriff told us about you. I’m Deputy Kearney.”
“Kearney.” Monty nodded. “I assume I don’t need to ask you the status of your questioning.”
“No, sir, you don’t. Ms. Chambers spoke to us by phone and instructed us to hold off on any interrogation until she arrives.”
“Well, there are a few things Ms. Chambers doesn’t know. If she did, she’d realize that silence won’t help her clients. Not with three witnesses and a tape recording of everything that went down before Luis tried to heave us over a cliff.”
“What kind of recording?” Vista blurted out, his eyes as wide as saucers. His head jerked around toward Edward. “You didn’t say anything about taped evidence.”
“Shut up,” Edward snapped, visibly thrown by Monty’s words. He eyed Monty like an animal assessing its foe. “You’re lying. There is no tape.”
“Yeah, Grandfather, there is,” Blake supplied. There was no triumph in his voice, only pained resignation. “I know because Devon made it. Even with his wrists bound, Detective Montgomery managed to press speed dial an
d call her cell phone. She and I heard everything that went on in your office. And now so have the police. We turned the cassette over to them a little while ago.”
