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“Great.” Jonah got up and snatched his jacket. “So we’ll talk in the morning?”

“Yup. And pack warm clothes. It’ll be freezing in the San Juans.”

MORGAN HEARD THE knock at her front door. She walked quickly down the hall, although she had no intention of even touching the lock until she knew who was on the other side of the door.

Detective Montgomery saved her the trouble of asking. “It’s Pete Montgomery,” he called.

Gratefully, she unlocked the door and let him in. “Thank you so much for coming. I feel like an idiot bothering you at this time of night.”

“It wasn’t a bother, not if you’ve got some coffee.” He’d already yanked off his parka.

“Already brewed.” Morgan managed a smile, hanging up Monty’s jacket and leading him toward the staircase. “Let’s go to the second-floor sitting room. It’s more comfortable, and right next to the kitchen—which means it’s near the Impressa.”

“The what?”

Her smile curved into something real rather than strained. “The Impressa. My über-elite coffee center. It brews everything from espresso to cappuccino to latte.” She preceded Monty up the staircase, tossing a reassuring look over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I sensed you weren’t a latte kind of guy. So I brewed a pot of regular.”

“Good.” He marched upstairs behind her, already wired and willing to become more so. “Caffeine’s good for cops and PIs. It keeps our minds and bodies working overtime.”

“I doubt you need it. That seems to come naturally to you.” Morgan showed Monty into the sitting room and left long enough to bring him a steaming mug. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Perched at the edge of the settee, Monty took an appreciative gulp. “Strong and leaded, the way I like it.” He raised his chin, fixing Morgan with a probing stare. “Now, tell me what happened to freak you out so much.”

“A couple of things.” Morgan sank down across from him and crossed her legs. “Did you hear about today’s hit-and-run on Madison?”

“Yeah. On the radio.” Monty made a face. “When those happen in East New York, the stories barely make the eleven o’clock news. When it’s in a classy section of midtown, it’s on every local channel at five. Go figure.” His eyes narrowed. “Why? Did you know the woman?”

“She’s one of my clients. So is the woman who called in the accident.”

“Interesting.” Monty’s facial expression didn’t change. “Go on.”

Morgan detailed the entire scenario for him. “Rachel’s going to be okay. Initially, that’s all I focused on. Meaningful coincidences never entered my mind. Then I got this cryptic phone call from Charlie Denton.”

“Denton?” This time Monty’s brows rose. “Where does he factor into this?”

“I matched him up with both Karly and Rachel. He saw each of them this past weekend. The fact that they were the women involved in this hit-and-run, combined with the fact that he’s digging around for me—he thinks it could be some kind of message telling me to back off.”

“Or telling him to back off.”

“In this case, isn’t that the same thing?”

“Not necessarily.” Monty shook his head. “Denton’s a prosecutor. He’s got enemies, just like your father did. Maybe one of them’s been following him around and decided to go after the women he’s seeing. I wonder why his mind didn’t go in that direction—unless he has reason for it not to.”

Morgan jumped on that one pronto. “You think he knows something he’s not ready to share.” She didn’t wait for an answer. “So do I. In fact, he all but admitted it. He just shuts down whenever I press him, asks me

to be patient and give him time and space.”

“Then give him the time and space he’s asking for. Keep your relationship with him strong and positive. Let me be the bad guy. Or Congressman Shore—if it comes to that. I hope it won’t. A direct confrontation should be our last resort. We’re much better off soft-pedaling it. Pressure would only piss Denton off or scare him off, and we need him in our corner.”

“But if he’s withholding inside information…”

“Then he might have a good reason for doing so,” Monty finished for her. “Remember, he’s wading through mounds of red tape, and avoiding land mines along the way. That’s a rough job. As far as we know, he’s loyal to you and your father—unless he proves otherwise.” A pensive pause. “Let’s see if I can get some answers from a different source.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, you let me worry about that.” Monty’s head came up and he peered around curiously, as if becoming aware that something was missing. “Speaking of Jill, where is she? I thought you said she was home.”

Morgan nodded. “She is. It’s her yoga time. She’s upstairs, centering herself.” A sigh. “Jill’s amazing at finding ways to unwind. I wish they worked for me. I’m not too good at finding inner peace.”

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