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“Hey, yourself. All set?”
“Yup. Dressed and ready. And you’re in the car—again.”
“On my way to Edward Pierson’s apartment. I was summoned. Time to report in on my first day.”
“How’d it go?”
“As expected. No major surprises. Except Louise Chambers, who was too broken up to talk to me. She went home right after the funeral. I’ll have to track her down tomorrow. It’s too bad, too. Funerals make people vulnerable.”
“And easier to interrogate.”
“Right.” Monty went on to fill Devon in on his chats with Marjorie Evans, Alice Jeffers, and Philip Rhodes. “That was my morning. My afternoon wasn’t productive. No one got back from the service until three. And even then, they arrived in a trickle. The major players showed up for an hour or so and then took off. Again, more to come tomorrow.”
“What about James and Blake?”
“As expected. James is the center of the universe. He’s also insecure as hell when it comes to his cousin Blake. With good reason. James has the flair. Blake has the substance. He’s got great instincts and a big-picture mentality. There’s no doubt that Blake is the future of Pierson & Company. And
that’s a lot more long lasting than a gold medal. By the way, did Blake ask you out?”
“Uh-huh. Dinner tomorrow night. I haven’t done this back-to-back weeknight thing since college.”
“Yeah, well, at least you’ll get some good food out of the deal. Where’s Blake taking you?”
“To be decided. We’re talking tomorrow.”
“What about James?”
“We’re going to the Gedney Grill, right here in White Plains.”
“Good choice. Get the baby back ribs. You’ll be covered in barbecue sauce. Too slimy to touch.”
Devon chuckled. “I like their sirloin. But thanks for the thought.”
“No problem. I’m not worried anyway. You two won’t be alone.”
She blinked. “You plan on being there with your binoculars?”
“Nope. Not necessary. Edward’s got security on his grandson, remember?”
“That’s right. I’ll keep that in mind, even though James has no idea he’s being guarded like Fort Knox. I’ll check out the place, see if there’s some burly guy with a toothpick in his mouth peering at us over the top of a newspaper.”
“Like I said, you watch too many cop shows. More likely, he’ll be a young punk who’s wolfing down a sirloin and guzzling imported beer so he can charge an expensive meal to Edward Pierson.”
“Good point.” Devon finished applying lip gloss. “Anyway, I appreciate the reminder.”
“Sure thing. Now go figure out what makes Golden Boy tick. Use the personal angle. Poke around about his family relationships, his view of Philip Rhodes. You know the drill. But soft-pedal it. I’ll do the heavy-handed stuff.”
“I’ll be cuddly as a kitten.”
“Just keep your claws ready.”
“Yes, Monty.”
“Explore his other world—the show circuit. What’s his mind-set in the saddle? Who are his competitors? Who’d have an ax to grind?”
“I get it, Monty.”
“Call me when you get home. I don’t care what time it is.”
