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Montana chuckled. “Reads like a who’s who of power in Richmond. My guess is that every one of the men will say they’ve never been to the club.”
“No doubt. What do we do?”
“There didn’t happen to be Mark Ramos name on that list, was there?”
Grant wrinkled his brow. “No. From what I’ve been able to find out about the guy, he wasn’t rich. Club Noir isn’t the kind of place he’d be able to get into. She said he was new. Perhaps he had some special invite.”
“Well, there has to be more of a connection than the love of all thinks kinky,” Montana said quietly.
“There always is.”
A ringing phone interrupted their conversation. As Grant took the call, Montana studied the pictures for the hundredth time. The kills had been calculated, but he knew he was missing something. Once again, his thoughts drifted to the doctor. He needed to find out the identity of the patient who’d rattled her. Coincidences he didn’t believe in.
“Yeah, I got it. We’ll be there.” Grant hissed as he hung up the phone. “Make that three or four.”
He eyed Grant. His partner’s face was grim. “What? Where?” Two days had passed with little additional information. They were working on a Sunday, trying to get ahead with no clues, no witnesses and no acceptance into the world of kink. He’d used every snitch he’d worked with while being undercover to try and ascertain any scrap of evidence or knowledge, but no one was talking.
“A restaurant worker found a girl’s body on the banks of the James. She was tied to a makeshift cross.” Grant rose from his desk, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“This doesn’t sound like our killer. He or she handled the previous kills in private.”
“I don’t know the specifics partner, but from the little I heard, I think our guy is mixing up his methods of killing.” Grant folded a piece of paper and slipped it into his pocket.
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
“She was cut to ribbons. Least that’s what the officers reported.”
Apprehension had remained buried in Montana’s gut since his meeting with Doctor Blade. His cop instinct had warned him the monster was just warming up. The man inside, the undercover cop, screamed the kills were getting personal. “Location secured?”
“Yep. They’re waiting on us,” Grant grabbed his jacket.
“Why do they think it’s the same killer?” He knew the answer.
“The asshole left a calling card.”
“Perfect. I’m not certain I want to know.” Montana clipped his gun into his holster.
“From what I heard; you’ll have to see to believe.”
“And number four?”
“Some guy in a kink club. Had his face bashed in and was drowned in the sink before he was tossed in a dumpster.” Grant shook his head. “It’s gonna be a rough week.”
* * *
Destiny sat cross-legged on her couch, staring at the screen of her laptop. She sipped coffee and dragged the throw across her legs. Even the flannel pajamas weren’t able to keep away the chill. She’d gone over both Michael and Candace’s files several times. There was no glaring information or red flags, but her instinct remained on high alert. Mark Ramos’ held little interest either. She had a feeling Candace was the key.
“What were you hiding, Candace?”
She sat back, easing her head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. Her mystery lover hadn’t whispered to her for two days. While she was grateful, she was also anxious. Had she managed to push him out of her life, or did he lie lurking in her inner shadows, waiting to pounce? She shifted and her panties dug into the crack of her ass. Shaving. She’d reminded herself to shave her pussy clean that morning. Why? Was she really being an obedient servant to a ghost or a fantasy?
“Ugh!” She took another sip of coffee and grimaced. Nothing tasted good to her any longer. She’d been unable to eat since Friday. Sundays were her day to relax, read a book or catch up on her favorite television shows. Today she had to work. She was compelled to find answers. Rising from the couch, she rubbed her arms and walked toward the window. The street was teeming with cars and walkers. The morning had dawned warm, and everyone had a special place to be.
Except for her.
Loneliness was a part of her life and one she’d learned to embrace or at least tolerate. This beautiful sunny day was different. She pressed her head against the glass and peered out onto a world she’d never been a part of. Who was she and what was happening to her? She shuddered and glanced over at her cell phone. While this was Sunday, she needed to find out if Michael was okay.
After a few seconds of thought she grabbed her phone and pulled out Michael’s paper file. His employer’s name and number were listed among his other contacts. As a rule of thumb, she never contacted anyone associated with her patients. Their confidentiality was not only vital, but any leak of information could get her license taken away. This was different. He’d refused to return her calls and emails. She was terrified for his sanity if not his life.
