Wrong Place, Wrong Time Part 12

Another nod.

"Your CEO was just killed. That's a huge blow to your company and to staff morale, considering how family-oriented Pierson & Company is. It would be strange if everyone wasn't on edge."

Mr. Jeffers's defensiveness eased. "I'm glad you recognize that."

"It would be hard not to. There are major reorganizational meetings taking place, and a ton of press hovering outside, ready to pounce on the Piersons. I feel sorry for them - for all of you, in fact. I'm sure Frederick Pierson was held in high regard."

"He was well respected. No one was more diligent or more dedicated."

Well respected. Nothing about being well liked.

Monty pretended to glance through his notes. "From what I've been told, he worked Guinness book hours."

"He did." The secretary relaxed a bit. Clearly, she was on more comfortable ground now. "He was always at his desk when I arrived, and when I went home. No matter how early or how late. He gave his all to the company."

"I'm sure that was especially true these past few years since his wife died."

"Losing her hit him hard. He devoted even more of his energies to the company after that."

"I can relate. Work is a great outlet when there's no one to go home to." Monty blew out a reflective breath. "With me, it was divorce. But becoming a widower? After decades of marriage? That must have really shaken him up."

"It did."

"I don't blame him for practically living at the office. I'm a.s.suming that's how he and Ms. Chambers got together. She seems to put in long hours as well. It's a typical scenario for two lonely workaholics to start dating."

Ms. Jeffers's guard was back up. "I suppose so. I don't know much about their relationship. They worked well together. And, yes, they socialized. Any more than that, you'll have to ask Ms. Chambers."

"I plan to - after the funeral. The poor woman was too upset to talk this morning. I respected her request for some s.p.a.ce. She and I are meeting later today." Monty cleared his throat. "Just so you know, I don't enjoy sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. I'm not expecting you to gossip about your colleagues. But my job is to keep everyone at Pierson & Company safe. I'm just trying to figure out where I should focus my energies."

"I'm not following."

"Let's just say that if someone needs extra security, I mean to provide it."

Ms. Jeffers's gaze widened as Monty's meaning sank in. "And that 'someone' might be a person Mr. Pierson was close to or confided in."

"Now you're getting the idea. You're a smart woman, Ms. Jeffers. And a discreet one, too. Don't alarm the staff by mentioning this. I doubt Ms. Chambers is in danger. I'm just covering all my bases."

"I understand." There was new respect in her eyes. Good. That's what Monty had been hoping for.

Time to zero in on the real subject he wanted to pursue with her.

"Let's get to Mr. Rhodes," Monty suggested, his concern over the staff's well-being still fresh in the secretary's mind. "He's practically a lifer here. How many years have you worked for him?"

"Sixteen."

"Wow. So you're his right hand. As he was Frederick Piersons's." A quizzical lift of his brows. "Right?"

"I suppose so." Ms. Jeffers propped her elbows on the desk, folding her hands beneath her chin. "Although I'm not sure I'd describe it that way. Mr. Rhodes reported directly to Frederick Pierson, yes. But the sales department works as a team, not a two-man show."

"And who heads the team?"

"Now that's a tough call." Ms. Jeffers smiled faintly. "Because no matter how you slice it, Edward Pierson runs the show. You'll hear that from anyone you ask. G.o.d bless that man, at almost eighty he has more moxie than most thirty-year-olds."

"So I've noticed. He's a formidable guy. He also thinks a great deal of Mr. Rhodes."

"That's not a surprise. He hired him - it must be twenty-five or twenty-six years ago."

"Just a few years after Frederick came on board."

"That's right."

"Philip and Frederick were about the same age. Were they friends?"

"Not socially, no. But as colleagues, they worked extremely well together. In many ways, they built this company. Along with the senior Mr. Pierson, of course. Back then, the company was solely a food services business. Many of its key contacts were made during that time - by Frederick and Edward Pierson, and Mr. Rhodes. They established the foundation of the company, then built on it. Now we've got three divisions, all of which are still expanding."

"Would you say the food services division is the mainstay of your organization?"

"I'd say so, yes."

"So its sales team is front and center. Where does James fit into that team?"

Ms. Jeffers's smile was indulgent. "James fits into every team. Certainly sales. He's sharp as a tack. He's a first-cla.s.s charmer. What better a.s.sets for someone in this department to have?"

"Good point. And you're right. I just spoke at length with James. He's quick. Not to mention versatile. After hearing everything he does - and apparently excels in - I feel like a slug."

"We all do," Ms. Jeffers said with a chuckle. "No one can keep up with James. He never wears out, not in business or on the show circuit."

"He's got endurance, all right. I envy him. Smart, talented, and unfazable."

"Not so unfazable," Ms. Jeffers amended in a placating tone. "Oh, I know he comes off that way. Like I said, he's quite the salesman. But beneath that cool veneer, he's very intense. He pushes himself hard. That's how he manages to excel at so many things."

"It's nice to know he has at least one fault."

Monty was ready to abandon the subject of James. After spending an hour with the guy, he'd already formed an opinion. The rest he'd learn tonight, after James's dinner with Devon.

Right now, he had other fish to fry.

Putting on a concerned expression, Monty lowered his voice. "Did Mr. Rhodes have any unusually long or intense meetings with Frederick Pierson last week? Anything that you noticed?"

Ms. Jeffers got his message loud and clear, and worry creased her forehead. "Oh, dear. You don't think Mr. Rhodes is in danger, do you?"

"I can't be sure. But it stands to reason that if Frederick Pierson's murder was triggered by something business-related, his closest in-house colleagues might be at risk. In which case, I plan to protect them."

"Of course." Ms. Jeffers gave a firm nod, then turned to the computer, punching up her electronic calendar. "Mr. Rhodes and Frederick Pierson had three meetings last week: Monday afternoon at three, Tuesday morning at ten, and Wednesday late afternoon. I don't have an exact time on the final one. Mr. Pierson set it up last minute. If I remember right, it started around four. I have no idea when it ended. They were still in Mr. Pierson's office when I left for the day."

"What time was that?"

"Six, maybe six fifteen."

"Who else attended that meeting?"

"It was just the two of them. James was in Wellington. Edward Pierson was up at the farm."

Monty was on the verge of asking Ms. Jeffers if she remembered any particular tension prior to that meeting, when he was interrupted by the buzz of the intercom.

Ms. Jeffers lifted the receiver. "Yes, Mr. Rhodes? Of course. Right away." She hung up and gestured toward the door. "You can go in now."

"Thanks." Monty rose, gathering up his notes.

"Mr. Montgomery?" The secretary's expression was still troubled, and she leaned forward to touch Monty's arm as he pa.s.sed by her desk. "If there's anything else I can do, please let me know."

"I will. In the meantime, keep this conversation between us, all right? The last thing we need is for people to panic."

"You can count on me."

"Good. I will." With a warm, grateful smile, Monty walked over and knocked on Rhodes's door.

"Come in."

In the blink of an eye, Monty's smile vanished.

Different people. Different tactics.

He stepped inside and shut the door.

Philip Rhodes was sitting at his desk, a manilla folder lying open in front of him. His tie was as straight as his posture. Every one of his neatly styled gray hairs was in place. His concentration was fixed on the file he was perusing.

Ostensibly, the essence of composure. Clearly, anything but.

"Mr. Rhodes. Thanks for your time." Monty started the dance, subtly calling for Rhodes's attention.

The other man's head snapped up. "Oh. Yes, of course. Have a seat." He indicated a leather chair. "Edward mentioned he'd hired you, and that you'd be stopping by to get some information from me. What can I help you with?"

Monty kept his expression carefully blank. "I'll keep it brief," he said, sitting down and flipping open his notes. "It's a difficult day, and you have a funeral to get to."

"Right." Rhodes nodded, stealing a quick look at his watch. "It starts at noon. I have to be there early, for Edward and Anne."

"You're close with the Piersons."

"I've worked for them most of my life, so yes, I'm close with them."

"Personally? Or just professionally?"

Rhodes slid forward in his chair. His right leg was pumping, the heel of his shoe making a rat-a-tat sound on the floor. "To the Piersons, it's all one and the same. There's no dividing line. Not with Edward. And not with Frederick. This company's everything to them. That's why their family makes up most of the board."

"And you're a part of that family."

"I like to think so."

"I'm sure you do." Monty jotted something down. "You said you were expecting me. So you know what my job here is."

"To safeguard the place." Rhodes fiddled with his pen. "That's your official role, at least on paper."

"You don't believe it?"

"Oh, I believe it's part of why you're here. The other part is to figure out if someone here killed Frederick - or has any idea who did." Beads of perspiration dotted Rhodes's brow, but he pressed on, determined to expose Monty's hand. "I'm not an idiot, Montgomery. Edward didn't hire any old security guard. He hired a PI, a retired police detective who's worked every kind of violent crime, including homicide, in one of Brooklyn's worst crime districts. He didn't do that just so you could patrol the halls and make sure no bad guys with machine guns storm the place."

Monty didn't so much as blink. "That's a pretty dramatic a.s.sessment."

"Are you saying I'm wrong?"

"Nope. You're dead-on, although I think you're underestimating how worried Edward Pierson is about his family. As for the rest, my credentials aren't a secret. Neither is what I've been hired to do. I'm just keeping a low profile so no one here freaks out. But, yeah, I'm not only patrolling the place, I'm investigating the murder. So's the Warren County Sheriff's Office. I'm just doing it a little more up close and personal. That's the way Mr. Pierson wants it. Is it a problem?"

Rhodes's jaw worked. "No. No problem. In fact, knowing Edward, I should have expected it. I'll help in any way I can."

"Good. And I'll keep an eye out for your safety." Monty paused. "Any thoughts as to who'd want Frederick Pierson dead?"

"Not a one. He was a tough businessman. A real ball-breaker when he had to be. That causes friction, jealousy, and resentment. But murder? No way."

"What about in-house?"

"That's even more far-fetched. We haven't had so much as a resignation in the past several years. So it's a leap to think an employee killed the company CEO."

"Speaking of employees, what was the scoop with Louise Chambers and Frederick Pierson?"

A shrug. "They dated. Steadily, over the past six months. But they weren't - what's the word? - exclusive. They each saw other people. Obviously you knew that, since one of those people was your ex-wife."

"True." Monty nodded. "So, to your knowledge, there was no animosity, no lovers' quarrel, going on?"

"Frederick was a private person. He kept his feelings to himself. As for Louise, she's the consummate professional. So I wouldn't know if they were on the outs. But, even if they were, Louise is no cold-blooded killer. You're barking up the wrong tree."

"I hear you." Monty shut his notebook and rose. "That's it for now. You've got a funeral to get to. I'll find you later, and we can get down to bra.s.s tacks."

"Bra.s.s tacks?"

"You know, the things that produce leads. Details of your current business ventures. Specific events and phone calls. Recent discord among family members. Special favors that went sour. Nothing the cops won't ask."

Rhodes didn't reply. But his silence spoke volumes.

CHAPTER 11.