He knew which file to look for. He’d read snatches of it earlier in the day. But he kept getting interrupted. Coworkers. The police. Montgomery.
Especially Montgomery. He was getting suspicious.
Bingo. There it was—the ticking bomb.
Rhodes highlighted the file. Opening it, he pored over the data.
Twenty minutes later, he sat back in his desk chair, sweat dripping down his face.
It was worse than he’d feared. Totally incriminating.
There was only one course of action for him to take.
He slid open his top drawer, groping around till he found what he needed.
His fingers closed around it.
Then he reached for the telephone.
CHAPTER 17
Devon woke up feeling more relaxed.
A family evening. How long had it been since she’d had one of those? Ages. They’d eaten, talked, even laughed. Merry had definitely thawed—especially when Monty whipped out the Bat Phone and suggested they all call Sally together.
There had been tears in her mother’s voice—bittersweet tears, of happiness, longing, and loneliness.
She wanted to be home.
Monty would make it happen. More and more, Devon believed it. She also believed he was right about Sally’s growing impatience. No way would she stay in hiding much longer. Five days and already she was fidgety, like a caged bird ready to soar. The more time passed, the farther away the threat seemed to be. And the farther away it seemed to be, the more likely she’d be to wing her way home and screw the consequences.
This murder investigation had better be wrapped up, and soon.
Monty had stayed at Devon’s until midnight, during which time Lane had cleaned them all out in a poker game. Like old times, they paid him with IOUs for Snickers bars.
Devon had drifted off at twelve thirty, more content than she’d been in a long time.
Only when she was half-asleep did she realize she’d never returned Blake’s calls.
HE RECTIFIED THAT at 7 A.M.
Barely had Devon stepped out of the shower when her telephone rang.
“Hello?” she said breathlessly.
“It’s a good thing I’ve got a strong ego. Otherwise, I’d be concerned that you were blowing me off.”
Devon felt her lips curve. “Hi, Blake. I’m sorry. I didn’t get home last night until seven something, and then the night just got away from me. By the time I sat down, it was midnight. I didn’t know if you’d still be up.”
“I was up,” he assured her, the thrumming background noise telling Devon he was in the car. “I usually am. I don’t need much sleep. Which is good, because I rarely get any.” A pause. “Speaking of which, I know it’s early. Did I wake you?”
“Nope. I’m an early bird, at least on workdays. I like to get into the clinic by eight. The animals scheduled for surgery arrive between eight thirty and nine. I try to meet with their owners before I conduct the presurgical physical exams. It gives everyone a little extra peace of mind.”
Blake digested that. “That’s very sensitive of you.”
“It’s my job. Pets are family members. They deserve to be treated with care and respect. Of course, so do their owners. They’re going through a trauma as well.”
“It’s good to hear someone speak so passionately about what they do,” Blake replied. “Maybe I’ll forgive you for not calling me back. Or maybe I won’t. Tell you what. Have dinner with me tonight and we’ll discuss it.”