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He listened to the address and was shocked more than anything. “I’ll wait across the street.”
Twenty minutes later, Montana arrived at the crime scene. The number of cop cars as well as the fact the ME had already arrived meant the situation was brutal. He cut the engine and glanced at the area. The development had been in the news several times. Now just a construction site, the area was several blocks from the restaurants and fashionable shops that would flank the multi-million dollar commercial and recreational facility. The location was also a perfect dumping ground given it was near the river. Was the killer getting nervous?
He watched the ongoing activity until he noticed Grant moving away from the crowd. Montana eased out of the car and remained where he was.
Grant looked over his shoulder twice before closing the distance and walking around to the other side of Montana’s car. “I’m taking a chance.”
“I’m not the bad guy.”
“No, but right now your name is mud.” Grant rubbed his eyes. “We have a situation.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that we found Michael Cavanaugh’s body.”
The news wasn’t what he’d anticipate. “What?”
Grant nodded. “Yeah. While he has marks indicating torture much like the others, I think his murder was more of an execution.”
“An execution. That doesn’t mean he’s not our killer.”
“Not according to the medical examiner. He’s been dead for days.”
Montana tilted his head, glaring up at the sky. “Fuck!”
“Yeah.”
“The ME is certain?”
“One hundred percent.”
“The construction area is active. Why didn’t anyone find the body before?”
Grant lifted his eyebrows. “He was dumped here but killed somewhere else.”
“My God. The real killer wanted us to think Michael was responsible for the murders,” Montana said between clenched teeth.
“Right on the money, partner. What do we do?”
He dug into his pocket, pulling out the card. “See if you can find any DNA on this. Maybe our killer is running scared.”
“Or maybe he’s just getting started. You’ll be lucky to find anything on the card.”
“No other DNA?”
Grant shook his head. “None. There is no saliva, semen, flesh under fingernails. Nothing.”
Montana squinted. “Fucking fantastic. Well, we need to go to plan B.”
“Which is?”
“A decoy.”
Grant shifted and placed his hands on his hips. “You mean someone going undercover as in Dr. Blade and no you don’t. You’re not on this case any longer. Do you hear me? You could lose your badge or go to jail.”
Or die. Destiny’s nightmare rushed into the back of his mind. After a few seconds Montana nodded. “You’re right. We have to look in another area. We need to go over every detail again, including the clients on Ms. Devereaux’s list, however limited it is. She gave us a basic roster and I’ll guess they’re low on the totem pole, but maybe one of them will talk.” The idea wasn’t a bad one. See if one would turn on another.
“There is no we here. There’s an entirely new team on this and talk about bringing the FBI in.”
