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“You missing the morning meeting. That’s what.”
He shrugged and remained silent.
“Look, I don’t give a shit who you fuck, but this one is close to the case, possibly more.”
“Destiny only has concerns, nothing more,” Montana said quietly. Her nightmare had been more than disconcerting.
“It’s Destiny now. The good doctor is still our best connection. Getting personally involved isn’t the best idea, but I don’t need to tell you that. You are well aware.”
“Throwing the old case in my face?”
“You don’t have to be an ass. You know exactly what I mean,” Grant retorted and shifted in order to glare out the passenger window. “Don’t get too close. That’s all I’m saying. Get on 64 West.”
He gave his partner a sideways glance and eased into the other lane. “Let’s just keep our eye on the ball. The press is all over this.”
“Yeah? And the Sarge is expecting an arrest, given the limited information the good Dr. Blade gave about the possible perpetrator.”
“We have no idea what she thinks she experienced.” Telling Grant about Destiny’s time spent with a supposed Dom had been necessary. The backlash he wasn’t ready for.
“Let’s just see if she was right. I pulled information on this guy.”
Montana was half listening. His thoughts drifted to her words of warning. You’re going to die. She was terrified and convinced of her foretelling. “Who is this guy?”
“Ralph Peterson. He’s fifty-nine, divorced and CEO of some big real estate development firm out of Atlanta. From what I’ve been able to discover, he’s worth about fifty million, give or take. His West End house is worth millions.”
“The fashionable West End, huh? That’s where we’re going?”
“Yeah. The address that Destiny gave you is some property his firm is renovating. He’s the clear owner and fits the description she gave you. They’re into mansions. Go figure,” Grant chortled.
“Does he know we’re coming?”
“No. I talked to his assistant. She mentioned he’s taking a few days off.”
Montana couldn’t help but wonder if the guy was disposing of evidence. What evidence? There was no connection other than Destiny’s bizarre thoughts and feelings. “The element of surprise.”
“This is probably nothing. The guy checks out. Ex-wife still lives in Atlanta. They have two kids, both in bordering school. He pays his taxes on time, has no priors, has made no waves that I can tell since he’s been here.”
“A model citizen.”
“With a bent on kink. The best kind.” Grant laughed out loud.
“If we’re wrong about this guy, the case could blow up in our face.”
Grant shrugged. “No pain. No gain.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like it.”
“Let’s just check him out. I put in for a search warrant for Michael Cavanaugh’s place.”
“With what evidence?” Montana eyed his phone. He wanted nothing more than to call Destiny, make certain she was okay. They were playing with fire and a gasoline can positioned just so.
“You know how Judge Reynolds is. He’s not one to mince words or decisions. He’ll come through.”
Inhaling, he took the Short Pump exit off of the interstate and eased to a halt at the stop sigh. Which way?”
“Go to the right. This guy’s place is like four miles down.” Grant tapped on the dashboard. “You believe her?”
“Dr. Blade?”
