“You can laugh after knowing what you do about the murders?”

  She shrugged. “This is about lunch. I’m not going to some dark club.” There was no way she would try and explain. She was attracted to the mystery man and the decision had been impulsive, but she didn’t fear him. In fact, she was intrigued by his tenacity in trying to get to know her. Her thoughts drifted to Montana. The night spent with him had been amazing, but she questioned why they’d let their guard down. Was the attraction real or some product of the bizarre connection between them?

  “Still. You’re the doctor but be careful. What are you thinking? I can see your brain churning away.”

  “Nothing. Just worried about Michael. I wish he’d call me back.”

  “Nice job of changing the subject. When is mystery date arriving?” Gina winked.

  “One.” Destiny sat back in her seat. Montana hadn’t given her a definitive yes on going undercover at the club. She was determined to figure out what was going on, even in the midst of danger.

  “Fifteen minutes. I’m staying around.” Gina huffed before walking out of the office.

  After a few seconds she checked her appointments for the next two days. The only patient who might be inclined to have an interest in any regard to BDSM was Maria Sanchez. She pulled up the young woman’s file and flipped through the last few weeks of notes. The patient was relatively new. Her anxiety had gotten the better of her after a carjacking. They’d had general conversations about dance clubs and other locations where she should protect herself better. The girl had a decent job and a new car. From what Destiny could tell, Maria was progressing well and had an excellent support system. There was one reference to her evening activities, social clubs catering to the BDSM atmosphere. Still, she didn’t really think Maria was heavily involved in the scene, more curious. Couldn’t hurt to make certain the girl was coming to her appointment later in the week.

  Destiny dialed the number and sighed. Voice mail. “Maria, this is Dr. Blade. I’m just calling to confirm your appointment. Please let me know if there are any changes. I look forward to talking with you.”

  She closed the file and glanced at her watch. Eight minutes. Time to freshen up before her date. Grabbing her purse, she stood and walked toward her office door. A cold chill swept down over her. She turned, half expecting a window to be open. The windows were closed and locked, yet the eerie feeling remained. Her mouth dry, she looked around the room. Her ears had a distinct yet subtle ring. A wave of nausea washed through her, creating bile in her throat.

  Get a grip. There’s nothing here. The thought was little comfort. Her rational brain registered nothing awry and nothing out of place. She sighed and took a step backwards.

  You forget your place… You will learn one way or the other.

  “What?” Jumping, she dropped her purse.

  “I said, mystery man is here and I must admit, he’s damn good looking.”

  Hearing Gina’s voice, she swallowed and glanced at her watch. There was no way ten minutes has passed. What had happened?

  “You okay? You look white as a ghost. Do you want me to send him away?” Gina asked, stepping further into the room.

  “No!” Destiny yanked her purse from the floor and brushed her hand through her hair. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re a terrible liar. By the way, he’s damn good looking. Whew. I can see why you want him.”

  “I don’t want him, Gina. I’m having lunch with him.”

  “Yeah? The way he’s dressed, maybe you should have him for lunch.”

  Destiny gave a waning smile, but the odd feeling remained. She remembered every detail of the dream. The words were a clear warning.

  “MIA. Interesting,” Grant stated as he glanced over at Montana.

  “I had a night off. What’s so interesting about that?” Montana glanced in the rear view mirror and gripped the steering wheel. Being chewed out by the Sargent has been expected. The brutal affront by the news media was something else. Granted, the city was on edge, but he was in no mood to play politics. He remained on edge, concerned Destiny was in danger. Someone had been outside her home. While there were no clues, he was certain they’d been watched.

  “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?”

  “Yeah.”

  “My question is. Why did she go to this guy’s house? Does she have a death wish?”

  Montana bristled. “Do you understand anything about the D/s lifestyle?”

  “You have all the acronyms down now, partner. Must be the short lived stint you had,” Grant laughed then cleared his throat. “I know enough to realize I want no part. Beating a woman? That’s crazy.”

  “That’s not what the lifestyle is about.”

  “Seems likes you are the expert.”

  He gunned the engine and resisted snarling. “You don’t have to like what she’s into. You just have to learn about the community.”

  “The community. You make this sound like a convent or worse.” He mumbled under his breath. “Do her patients know?”

  “Of course not. She’s just investigating!” Montana realized he’d snapped.

  “Right. Okay. What do I need to know?”

  He shot Grant a look. “Simply that she goes by the name of Skyler. Remember when Mistress Jade said she has a very special set of clientele who pay handsomely for companionship outside of the club?”

  He laughed. “Yeah. Companionship. Sounds like glorified prostitution to me.”

  They remained quiet until Grant pointed toward an upcoming sign. Montana squinted. The entrance to the community was flanked by massive brick columns and landscaping that had to cost as much as a basic home. From what Destiny had told him, the secret club was very much about rich men and their dark desires. He shuddered and flicked on the turn signal. “BDSM is about trust, control, letting go and understanding.”

  “Yeah? Well, from what I’ve seen and read, it’s also about pain.” Grant twisted his head to look at Montana. “And murder. Don’t forget murder. 4201. Up the road and turn left.”

  Murder. Yeah, he was well aware and knew the murders weren’t over. The madman had more in store. He pulled into a long driveway, the aggregate flanked by massive oak trees. The Georgian colonial fit the surroundings. Plantation like, he could almost envision servants sweeping out of the front door to meet their every need.

  “Impressive.”

  “Suffocating.” Montana yanked off his seat belt and exited the vehicle. He scanned the surroundings. There was nothing telling about the façade or the manicured landscape. Then again, he suspected the man would hide his particular proclivities.

  “You can say that again. Still, I’d like the man’s money.” Grant shook his head as they walked toward the front door. “You want to take this one?”

  “Sure.” He knocked on the door and took a step back, glancing up at the second floor windows. Ralph Peterson had no real understanding of why they were coming to have a chat. The man opening the door was not just surprising. The demure looking professional held the persona of a meek and mild mannered accountant instead of a multi-million dollar mogul. “Mr. Peterson?”

  “Yes? You must be Officer Miller?”

  Montana smiled. “That would be my partner, Detective Miller. I’m Detective Givens. We just need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Ah, detectives. Of course. Please come in.” Ralph gave them both a once over before opening the door and allowing them in. “I must admit that I was surprised at your call.”

  “We just want to ask you a few questions about a case we’re working on.” Grant raised his eyebrow.

  Catching the look, Montana studied the surroundings. Lavish, the man had certainly spent a great deal of money on artwork as well as furnishings. When they were led into a leather clad living room, complete with an oversized bar and expansive entertainment system, his curiosity was piqued.

  “A case? About?” Ralph waved toward the closest couch. He remained standing, a huge smile plastered on his face.

  Montana smiled but refused to sit. He already didn’t like the man. There was no time to be subtle. “Tell us about your membership to Club Noir.”

  The smile disappeared, replaced by an expression of anger. “Club Noir? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do. Your name is on a list, a very long list and one provided by the Mistress of the house, Jade Devereaux?” Grant grinned.

  Of course the man was uncomfortable. They’d struck a nerve. “Mr. Peterson, we don’t care about your late-night activities. We simply want to know about a rendezvous you had with one of your selections.” Montana chose the words carefully.

  Ralph shifted from foot to foot and kept his expression pensive. “I go to the club and enjoy meeting submissives. Nothing more. I’ve met many of them.”

  Grant stole a look at his partner. “Do you know a submissive by the name of Skyler?”

  A small tick in the corner of Ralph’s mouth was the only indication that he recognized the name, but Montana caught the gesture. “I can see that you do. Can you tell me what happened on the night you were with her?”

  Hesitating, Ralph finally looked away. “She got cold feet. Nothing more. Why?”

  “Cold feet? As in she didn’t like the thought of you beating her?” Grant asked under his breath.

  “How dare you? What occurs has nothing to do with beating. I can see that you’re a Neanderthal when it comes to the art of Domination and submission.”

  Ralph’s exclaim was heartfelt, but there was something hiding under the man’s bravado. “Mr. Peterson, we simply want to know what occurred on the night you were with her.”

  “Nothing. She wasn’t ready. That’s it.” Ralph looked away.

  Montana noticed his hand was shaking. “Where was this meeting?”

  “At my…at another place resident I own.” Ralph rubbed his forehead. “Why are you here?”

  “We simply want to ask you a few questions, nothing more.” Grant smiled and nodded.

  Ralph looked from one to the other. “No. I think it’s time you leave. If you have any specific questions, you can certainly contact my attorney.”

  Montana sighed. “Just one last question, Mr. Peterson. This other residence. Do you have someone staying there?”

  The question seemed to catch him off guard. “The location is furnished to sell, detective. Did I take this submissive there so that my family wouldn’t find out? Yes. That’s not a crime. Being a member of the club is also not a crime. Again, anything further and you can contact my attorney. Are we clear?”

  Grant snorted. “Very. Thank you for your time.”

  He waited for a full minute before following grant outside. Sighing, he squinted as he looked up at the sky.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think the man knows a lot more than he’s telling. I also think we need to get a look at this other residence.”

  “That’s not going to happen, partner. No judge in their right mind will issue a warrant for a sexual escapade.”

  “True.” He turned his head. Mr. Reynolds was watching from a window. Perhaps there were many more secrets held tightly within the bowels of the club.

  Grant nodded as he yanked out his cell phone. “Yep. Interesting society. I’m surprised Jade allowed the man to leave her club.”

  Montana placed his hands on his hips. “Oh, I have no doubt there is a very special client list.”

  “Then we need to get ahold of that list.”

  “I doubt that’s going to happen without pulling teeth.” Or without pissing off a hell of a lot of influential men. The fire was roaring.

  “Well some good news, anyway. We have the warrant to search Michael’s place. Let’s get to it.”

  “Sure.” He took a couple of steps then looked back, an eerie feeling slithering down his spine. Why did he have the distinct feeling that Mr. Peterson was on the phone, calling the good Mistress?

  CHAPTER 18

  “The lady will have a glass of cabernet. I’ll have a Chivas Regal bourbon, neat.”

  Destiny leaned forward in her seat. “Not very Mexican restaurant like.”

  “Would you prefer Tecate and two shots of tequila?”

  She rolled her eyes and glanced up at the waiter. “Wine is fine.”

  “Yes, ma ‘am. Here’s some chips and salsa in the meantime,” the young man said, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “I’m surprised you selected this restaurant.” She absently took a chip, breaking apart small pieces and nibbling as she studied his expression. Her mystery man had yet to offer his name. What she’d learned about him had been on the five-minute ride. He appreciated classical music, rock and roll and certainly had an affinity for luxury cars. He was also sought after, given the number of unanswered phone calls he’d received during the short period of time.

  “You don’t think I enjoy cheap food, watered down liquor and stale chips?” His eyes flashed as he grinned.

  Even in the dim lighting, his amazing blue eyes penetrated the shadows. “Very funny. Did you somehow manage to find out that Mexican is my favorite? Did someone tell you? Or better yet, were you looking in my pantry?”

  He raised a single eyebrow. “I don’t spy. I pay attention. I listen. I observe. I’m very good at learning about people inside and out.”

  “What does your amazing talent tell you about me?”

  “Merely what I’ve told you before. You’re a woman hiding behind a mask, looking for the right companion to allow you to be yourself.”

  Destiny nodded. “I won’t disagree. I’ve looked. I’ve given up looking.”

  “Very sad. You’re a treasure, a gift.”

  “Thank you for the compliments.” She dissected his features as well as his mannerisms. “Where are you from?”

  “Does it matter?” He gave her a half smile.

  She sat back and sighed. “No. Not in the least. What does matter is your name. You have me at a disadvantage.”

  Hesitating, his eyes darted back and forth as if determining whether he could trust her. “Chris.”

  “Chris. Suits you. Now why did you ask me to lunch again?”

  “Such a formidable and untrustworthy woman,” he whispered as he cocked his head.

  This time the look was seductive, possessive. She swallowed and waited until the waiter had delivered their drinks. “Nature of my profession.”

  “Yes. I can understand. May I order for us?” Chris’ voice was soft, the tone smooth as velvet.

  Her mouth dry, Destiny reached for her water glass. “Be my guest.” What was he attempting to do, impress or dominate? She wasn’t surprised when he ordered in Spanish, the words fluent, silky. She wanted to ask what he’d selected, but a part of her knew better. He was taking control.