Wrong Place, Wrong Time by Andrea Kane

He retired from the Seventy-fifth a couple of years before I did, and moved to Williamstown, Mass. He’s got a wife, plus two married kids, and a slew of grandkids in the area. You’ll be staying with him and his wife, Molly, for as long as necessary. No one will know where you are. Rod’s got ten or fifteen acres, so you don’t have to worry about being spotted. Just hang close to the house and you’ll be fine.”
    “Wait,” Sally interrupted. “What about his wife? Won’t she mind?”
    “Mind? She’ll be thrilled. Rod’s like an old warhorse. Molly’s heard his cop stories so many times, they put her to sleep. Besides, you two are a lot alike. She loves the great outdoors. And she’s crazy about kids, especially her grandchildren. They’re her life. When she finds out you teach nursery school, she’ll go nuts. Anyway, she and Rod are the only ones who’ll know the truth about why you’re there. If the kids visit, Rod will tell them you’re an old friend who’s going through a rough time and needs a place to sort things out.”
    “But — ”
    “No buts. Rod’s already on his way to Middlebury. It’ll take him a little over two hours to reach you. So get some rest. He’ll give you a call when he’s fifteen minutes away. At that point, you’ll head down to the lobby, turn in your key, and meet him at the back entrance. He drives a blue Ford Explorer. Any questions?”
    “What about the police? You said they’re looking for me.”
    “Let ’em look. I’ll give Sergeant Jakes a call, tell him I heard from you, and explain what really went down at that cabin. Then I’ll tell him you’re terrified the killer’s after you, and that you hung up without telling me where you were or where you were headed.”
    “Isn’t that aiding and abetting, or obstruction of justice, or something like that?”
    “Nope. Just a small twist of the truth. And only about your whereabouts. The rest is fact.” Monty gave a wicked chuckle, and Sally could actually visualize that smug I-beat-the-system gleam in his eyes. “That’s the great part about being a PI and not a cop. You can bend the rules a little.”
    “As if you didn’t before,” she commented drily.
    “Point taken. Okay then, I can bend them even more. So, instead of wasting time following protocol and filling out bullshit reports, I can investigate on my own and track down the scumbag who smashed in Frederick Pierson’s skull and nearly incinerated you.”
    Like an unwelcome blast from the past, Sally felt that grinding twist in her gut. “In other words, once you figure out who he is, you’re going after him.”
    “Did you doubt it?”
    “No. Are you going to elicit the help of the Warren County sheriff, or is that a stupid question?”
    “It’s a stupid question. I work better and faster on my own. Now go take it easy. Later, I’ll want to ask you some questions about what you might and might not know about Frederick Pierson.”
    “Speaking of that, there’s something you should know right away. It may mean nothing. On the other hand, it bugged me enough to stick in my mind. I assumed I was overreacting — until Frederick was murdered.”
    “Go on.”
    “I overheard an argument between Frederick and his father earlier this week. Frederick wanted to fire someone at his company. Edward was dead set against it. Something about a criminal offense that could jeopardize the company. At least that’s what Frederick claimed. Edward obviously didn’t agree. He vetoed Frederick’s decision to let this person go.”
    “Interesting.” Monty digested Sally’s information. “So it could be a crooked employee. Or maybe just a disgruntled one who knew Frederick didn’t trust him. As the ball-breaking CEO of the company, I’m sure he had lots of pissed-off employees. We’ll just have to figure out which of them, if any, would go so far as to kill him.”
    “I could try to write down the exact words they — ”
    “Not now,” Monty