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“I live near the clinic,
yes.”
“But you spend most of your time at work.”
“A good chunk of it,” Devon acknowledged.
“So I’d see you whenever I brought Chomper to obedience school.”
“Not likely. The clinic’s big and spread out. It’s divided into sections. I’m in the medical wing. You’d be in the training wing.”
Blake shot her another of those probing looks. “I’m a good navigator. I’ll find you.”
Freezing or not, Devon was starting to perspire. She was glad they were nearing the house.
She glanced up to see James in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, frowning as he watched their approach. An elderly man with white hair—presumably Edward Pierson—was standing beside him, waving his arm and talking vehemently.
James stopped him in midsentence, gesturing toward her and Blake.
Edward’s head snapped around. His gaze seemed to pin her where she stood.
Then he turned and disappeared into the house.
CHAPTER 8
Two guys hitting on you. Both of them Piersons. Not bad for an evening’s work,” Monty commented drily, settling himself in the passenger seat and scribbling down some notes.
Devon’s gloved fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and she accelerated onto the highway. “I’m glad you’re happy,” she muttered. “I feel like I just walked off a soap opera set.”
“Yeah, well, you did. This family’s got more drama and secrets than the Kennedys.” Monty put down his pen. “How’d you leave it with James and Blake?”
“James and I were supposed to get together while I was there. That never happened. He and his grandfather went behind closed doors five minutes after Blake and I walked in with Chomper. They were still there when I left.”
“But you made sure he’ll call.”
A sigh. “Yes, Monty. I gave Cassidy my phone number and asked her to pass it on to him.”
“And Blake?”
“He’s enrolling Chomper in obedience classes at my clinic. Evidently, he spends lots of time in Yonkers, getting his restaurant ready for its grand opening. He made it abundantly clear that he wants to see me. Whether that’s genuine interest or just a ruse to stay close by in case Mom contacts me is anyone’s guess.”
“Probably both. But stay on your toes. I don’t trust any of these people.”
“No argument there.” Devon glanced over, saw her father rereading the letter Edward had given him. “Do you think Frederick’s murder and that threatening letter are related?”
A shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not. I intend to find out. In the meantime, no mention of the letter to anyone.”
“My lips are sealed.” Devon grinned. “I’m flattered you shared it with me.”
“You’re my partner.”
“On this case,” Devon reminded him.
“Yeah, yeah, on this case.” Monty’s forehead creased as he leaned back against the headrest. “Assuming the murder and the letter are connected, James is the logical common denominator. He reports to Philip Rhodes. Frederick didn’t trust Rhodes. He suspected him of playing dirty to bolster the food-services division—Frederick’s division. Now Frederick’s dead and James is the target of a threatening letter. The minute Edward’s pride and joy shows up at the office, I’m finding out what makes him tick. As for you…”
“I’ll make a date with him ASAP.” Devon finished her father’s train of thought. “He’s got a huge ego. I’ll play into it. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get more out of him than you will.”
A scowl. “As long as he doesn’t get too much out of you.”
