“Okay.”
“I was wondering if it would be possible to have the president join me over by the painting on the far wall. The one we had restored.”
Zane zeroed in on the painting. The threeM’s stood in a semicircle around the painting, facing Carmichael. The wives were nowhere in evidence, nor was Monteith’s daughter, who’d been a late addition to the guest list.
“I’ll see what I can do, sir.” It took another ten minutes before Zane had an opportunity to pass along the request, but the president acquiesced immediately. “Monty!” The president pulled Monteith into a huge hug. “Where is your Wendy? I know I saw her earlier.”
“She took off with Carmichael’s butler, if you can believe it.She used to play here as a kid and wanted to see if she could find a spot where she and Shelby drew on a doorframe or some such nonsense.”
“Be sure you bring her over to talk to me before the evening is over. I don’t think I’ve seen her since she was in college. How’s she doing?”
“Great. Keeps me out of trouble.”
The president roared with laughter, and it seemed genuine. Zane might not have noticed if it hadn’t been so obvious to him that the laughter of the other twoM’s was decidedly forced. Even Carmichael had tensed at the mention of Wendy Monteith.
Zane caught Ledbetter’s eye. The man was the PID lead agent for a reason, and he’d picked up on the strange vibe.
Ledbetter took a few steps to the side and spoke into the com unit at his wrist. “I need eyes on Wendy Monteith. She’s supposed to be with the butler and could be anywhere in the house or on the grounds, including areas otherwise off-limits to guests.”
With that terse order, Ledbetter stepped back into his position. Anyone watching wouldn’t realize it, but every agent in a five-mile radius was now on full alert. It could be nothing. But last-minute additions to the guest list who disappeared from the party and made people uncomfortable were not safe to ignore.
Carmichael reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “Monty. We have something for you. And since we’re all here, we wanted to give it to you now.” He handed the box to Monteith, then turned to the president. “You probably don’t know this, but Monty here managed to lose a cuff link a while back.”
Zane watched in a combination of shock, horror, disbelief, and disgust as Monteith removed the lid and pulled out a cuff link identical to the one that currently resided in a small box in Tessa’s office.
30
TESSACOULD NOT BELIEVEshe’d joined forces with Rodriguez. But when the call came over the coms, they had both moved toward the stairs.
“I got the sense that Graham was a straight shooter,” Rodriguez said as they took the steps two at a time.
“I did too.” Tessa had liked the guy. Right now, she was doubting everything.
“Right or left?” Rodriguez asked.
“Right.”
The upper levels of the home were supposed to be empty. It shouldn’t be too difficult to locate Graham and Wendy Monteith. Tessa moved down the hall toward Carmichael’s office, Rodriguez a half step behind her. She kept her stride purposeful and swept the area with her gaze. She opened the first door on the left. Rodriguez entered while she stayed partially in the hall. It was a smallish bedroom, and Rodriguez was quick but thorough as he checked the closet, under the bed, and behind the curtains before he rejoined her in the hall.
He opened the next door, and she went inside. This was another bedroom. Significantly larger, and the decor screamed late-ninetiesteenager. The oldest Carmichael daughter had probably called this her own a few decades ago. Tessa checked the closet, bed, and curtains before moving into a Jack and Jill bathroom that connected to another room.
She was almost surprised to see a shower with an actual shower curtain. Most of the bathrooms in this house were large and had glass enclosures, but this one had so far escaped renovation. She yanked back the shower curtain and bit back a scream.
Graham lay in the tub. Blood pumped from a wound in his abdomen. “Rodriguez. Get in here now!”
But it wasn’t Rodriguez who came through the door.
“There’s a man dead in the hall!” Wendy Monteith screeched. Then she saw Graham’s bloodied form, and her hand fluttered in front of her face. “What did you do to him?” This time her scream was filled with fury and fear, and she took three quick steps back. “I’m calling the police.”
Tessa kept her mental focus on Wendy and deliberately bent toward Graham while she spoke into her wrist. “Rodriguez? Check—”
The pointed toe of a Louboutin heel came flying toward her temple, but Tessa was ready for it. She clasped her hand around Wendy’s ankle and twisted hard. Wendy went down in the small space between the vanity and the door and cracked her head against the marble floor. The impact jarred a tiny handgun from her grasp, and it slid behind the toilet.
Tessa sent out an emergency code from a small device at her waist that she knew would alert the cavalry, but she couldn’t let down her guard. Right now she had a guy dying in the bathtub, a guy who may or may not be dead in the hall, and a woman who had to be sporting a goose egg big enough to feed a small village but was now scrambling to her feet and coming at Tessa.
Hand-to-hand combat in a bathroom was less than ideal under the best of circumstances, but it looked like Wendy Monteith wasn’t going down until Tessa put her in cuffs.
“Murderer!” Wendy screamed, and Tessa blocked a blow from the woman’s fist that, if it had landed, could have put Tessa in the tub with Graham.
