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Blake didn’t seem one bit fazed by her probing. “Number one, I’m smart. Number two, I stay on top of everything that goes on at Pierson & Company—including who gets questioned and why. Oh, and number three, I’m your father’s point person when my grandfather’s not around. But I assumed you already knew that.”
“And that’s it?”
“No, actually that’s not it. I was pretty annoyed at myself for not realizing that another Mercedes S500 might have made that set of tracks down by the road. Not that it changes much. A dozen of us drive that car, and lots of other people have access to them—not just Pierson employees, but garage attendants, valets, you name it.”
Devon couldn’t argue that. “What about Louise Chambers? She’s one of those who has a company car.”
“What about her? She’s ambitious as hell. I’m sure she has a personal agenda, too—maybe even one that includes me. That doesn’t make her a killer. Take my word for it, her feelings for Frederick were genuine.”
“Frederick was seeing my mother. That can’t have sat too well with Louise. Ambitious women don’t take kindly to second place.”
“They also don’t get rid of the competition by killing the prize they’re both vying for. Louise is shrewd, not emotional or irrational. What would she gain by killing Frederick? Money? Professional status? No. So it doesn’t fit. Louise wouldn’t risk a life sentence to satisfy some sort of jealous rage.”
Blake’s point was well taken. Monty had made a similar one the other day.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” Devon murmured.
“I’ve considered the same suspects you have. I want the killer caught—no matter who he, or she, is.”
That was Devon’s entrée—if she gambled and took it.
Rolling the dice, she stepped further into the realm of Pierson family secrets. “Can we talk about James?”
Blake’s jaw hardened. “What about him?”
“He’s the common denominator in this equation. Frederick, Philip Rhodes, the incident at Wellington—James has connections to all of them. You two grew up together. You know his character. How much of him is real and how much is a facade?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“I think you are.” Devon went for it. “Why didn’t he ride Wednesday? Was he really sick? Or was it something else? Because he called me three times that day. He also sent me flowers. And all while he was too sick to compete in the Gold Coast Classic.”
Blake scowled. “What an idiot.”
“For being so obvious?”
“Or for being so reckless. Either way, he took a stupid risk.”
“Is he afraid? Is that what this is about? Or is it something else, like drugs? Is he into them?”
“You’re very interested in my cousin,” Blake said quietly. “Is that for personal or investigative reasons?”
She forced a smile. “Jealous?”
“Should I be?”
Slowly, Devon shook her head. She wasn’t going to lie, not about this. “No.”
Blake’s jaw relaxed. “Good.”
“Although on the personal front, James is doing a hard sell on me. Dinner, phone calls, flowers. He asked me to fly down to Wellington next weekend to watch him compete.”
“I’m sure he did. You’re not going.”
“Because I’ll throw off his concentration?”
“Because you’ll be busy. With me.”
“That’s just Friday,” Devon reminded him.
