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“Six, maybe six fifteen.”
“Who else attended that meeting?”
“It was just the two of them. James was in Wellington. Edward Pierson was up at the farm.”
Monty was on the verge of asking Ms. Jeffers if she remembered any particular tension prior to that meeting, when he was interrupted by the buzz of the intercom.
Ms. Jeffers lifted the receiver. “Yes, Mr. Rhodes? Of course. Right away.” She hung up and gestured toward the door. “You can go in now.”
“Thanks.” Monty rose, gathering up his notes.
“Mr. Montgomery?” The secretary’s expression was still troubled, and she leaned forward to touch Monty’s arm as he passed by
her desk. “If there’s anything else I can do, please let me know.”
“I will. In the meantime, keep this conversation between us, all right? The last thing we need is for people to panic.”
“You can count on me.”
“Good. I will.” With a warm, grateful smile, Monty walked over and knocked on Rhodes’s door.
“Come in.”
In the blink of an eye, Monty’s smile vanished.
Different people. Different tactics.
He stepped inside and shut the door.
Philip Rhodes was sitting at his desk, a manilla folder lying open in front of him. His tie was as straight as his posture. Every one of his neatly styled gray hairs was in place. His concentration was fixed on the file he was perusing.
Ostensibly, the essence of composure. Clearly, anything but.
“Mr. Rhodes. Thanks for your time.” Monty started the dance, subtly calling for Rhodes’s attention.
The other man’s head snapped up. “Oh. Yes, of course. Have a seat.” He indicated a leather chair. “Edward mentioned he’d hired you, and that you’d be stopping by to get some information from me. What can I help you with?”
Monty kept his expression carefully blank. “I’ll keep it brief,” he said, sitting down and flipping open his notes. “It’s a difficult day, and you have a funeral to get to.”
“Right.” Rhodes nodded, stealing a quick look at his watch. “It starts at noon. I have to be there early, for Edward and Anne.”
“You’re close with the Piersons.”
“I’ve worked for them most of my life, so yes, I’m close with them.”
“Personally? Or just professionally?”
Rhodes slid forward in his chair. His right leg was pumping, the heel of his shoe making a rat-a-tat sound on the floor. “To the Piersons, it’s all one and the same. There’s no dividing line. Not with Edward. And not with Frederick. This company’s everything to them. That’s why their family makes up most of the board.”
“And you’re a part of that family.”
“I like to think so.”
“I’m sure you do.” Monty jotted something down. “You said you were expecting me. So you know what my job here is.”
“To safeguard the place.” Rhodes fiddled with his pen. “That’s your official role, at least on paper.”
“You don’t believe it?”
