Page 151 of The 6:20 Man

Montgomery closed the door behind them and turned to Devine. “Let’s hit it.”

She led him into what looked like a home office.

“What exactly are we looking for?” he asked.

“Anything to show the guy is a crook.”

“And maybe a killer,” he said.

“Two people dead and—”

“It’s now four, actually.”

She whirled around to stare at him. “What!”

“Sara Ewes’s parents. They were murdered in their bed at Sara’s place two nights ago.”

“Oh my God. And you think Brad—?”

“I don’t know. I do know someone sent me, and apparently only me, an email detailing Sara’s crime scene. They also sent me messages about the murders of Stamos and the Eweses. It has to have been the killer. Which means the person has some beef with me. Only I don’t know why.”

“You had a thing going with Sara. Maybe the killer knew and was jealous.”

“That would explain some things. And Stamos and Sara were apparently a couple but keeping it under wraps. Maybe that’s why Stamos was killed.”

“And the parents?”

“The mother was outright hostile to Sara’s lifestyle. The email shows the killer didn’t like that. But I’d like to know how the person knew about it.”

“It might have been in a diary or something.”

“Which the cops couldn’t find.”

“Why would the killer care what her mother thought of Sara?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Devine.

“Hey, maybe she broke up with the guy she was seeing. He was the father and she ended the pregnancy because she didn’t want to carry his baby.”

“I found out that Sara had artificial insemination. She used a sperm donor.”

“But then why terminate the pregnancy?”

Devine shook his head. “No idea.”

They began searching the office. They found nothing helpful there and headed upstairs.

“We have separate bedrooms,” Montgomery told him. “Brad’s is at the end of the hall. It’s about as big as my apartment.”

They went inside the chamber, which was really a suite with multiple rooms and every rich-guy toy one could hope for: two fireplaces, enormous TVs, a full bar, a sitting area, a spa with steam room, sauna, and whirlpool, a massage room, and a bathtub nearly large enough to do laps in, with a walk-in shower next to it that looked like a Roman grotto. And five classic pinball machines along with a pool table.

“Who could sleep in here?” he said. “Too many distractions.” Devine looked at the bed that was about the size of his room. “How do two people find each other on that?”

“Brad never had a problem finding me, I can assure you.”

“Don’t go there, Michelle. I do not want to hear it.”

After a fruitless search, they perched on the bed and gazed out the floor-to-ceiling tinted windows.