Devon couldn’t help but laugh at the uncharacteristic display of paternal protectiveness. “I’m a big girl, Monty. I know how to take care of myself. But thanks for the warning.”
“No thanks necessary. It’s part of the job description.” An odd expression crossed Monty’s face. “Too bad I could never get that job right. I tried like hell. But it wasn’t enough. I still don’t know why. Other cops manage.”
“Other cops can put a cap on their personal relationships. You can’t.” Devon reached over and squeezed his arm. “The way you loved Mom, and us—there’s no room for intensity like that times two.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“On the other hand, it’s never too late to try again,” Devon couldn’t help but add. “Circumstances change. Priorities change. Even people change.”
Monty averted his eyes, staring out the window. “Just drive, Devon. We’ve got a lot to do before tomorrow.”
EDWARD PACED INSIDE the barn, waiting and brooding.
Devon Montgomery wasn’t supposed to be a problem. She was supposed to be a potential solution. Now all that had changed. How much remained to be seen.
James was taken with her. Doubly so after deciding Blake was his competition. He wasn’t about to back off. That meant his performance at Wellington was in jeopardy.
And so was he.
Inhaling sharply, Edward stopped pacing and leaned back against the stable wall. His chest felt tight. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. His health. He had to protect it. He’d get the situation in check. He’d already initiated damage control. Now he just had to find out if it was enough.
The crunch of tires reached his ears. A minute later, the barn door opened and Lawrence Vista walked in.
He stopped the minute he saw Edward. “I’m here, as promised.” He slapped his gloved hands together, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “I’m very sorry about your son.”
“So am I.” Edward cut to the chase. “You said on the phone that you ran into Devon Montgomery at the barn. What happened?”
“We spoke. For two minutes tops.”
“What did you tell her?”
“As little as possible. My name. That I was a genetic consultant. That I was advising you on the best breeding partners for your show horses. None of that’s a secret.”
“And that’s all you said?”
“That’s it.”
“Did she see anything? Anything at all?”
“No.” Vista shook his head. “We never left the doorway. I came in with only my medical bag and a notebook. And our conversation was all veterinary talk.”
“What the hell were you doing here to begin with? You know my whole family’s gathered at the farm.”
“I had the preliminary results I promised. I planned on leaving them in the usual spot. The barn was lit and the door was ajar. I checked to see who was inside. I assumed it was you.”
“That was a stupid assumption. I’m in no shape to work—not even on this. My son was just killed.”
“I realize that. But we set up our meeting before that happened. And it occurred to me that you might decide to show up, if for no other reason than to get your mind off your loss.”
“Nothing can do that.”
“I understand. And I apologize if I made a bad choice. But I still don’t understand why you’re so agitated. Devon Montgomery’s a veterinarian, not a cop.”
“Maybe not, but she’s a cop’s daughter.”
“Huh?”
“Her father was with the NYPD for thirty years. He retired to become a PI. A damned good one, too. And his ex-wife’s still a target for Frederick’s killer, so he’s knee-deep in this case. The last thing I need is for Devon Montgomery to say something to her daddy that starts his wheels turning.”