She grabbed two glasses and poured hefty shots. “You know the club has influential people involved. They wouldn’t appreciate anyone uncovering their kinky desires.”

  “No and I suspect the BDSM community will shut down. There will no information given.” He accepted the drink and raised his glass. “However, I will keep you safe.”

  “Who is the other woman on the list?”

  “Donna Thomas. Name ring a bell?”

  Destiny sipped her drink as she went over her patient list in her mind. “Not one of my patients.”

  “Well, my partner is trying to locate her now.” Montana leaned against the doorjamb. “My bet is it’s too late.”

  “I’m sorry about getting you suspended.”

  “Not your fault. There’s more to this. I can’t put my finger on the problem, but my partner and I have been missing vital information all along. Bet my career on it.”

  “You don’t think Michael is the killer?”

  He shrugged. “I do, but I have a sick feeling there’s more than one. Just my gut plus…”

  “Plus?”

  “You know the odd connection we have?” he asked quietly then sipped his drink.

  “Powerful and unexplained.” She’d attempted to put the pieces of why there was a link, the strong tethering she had with both Montana and Christopher. “I’m no expert but I’ve studied alternative forms of psychiatric methods. What I learned certainly isn’t scientific, but thousands of people believe in aspects of the occult, life after death and certain psychic abilities.”

  “Go on.”

  “There are aspects of this world that aren’t based on logic. If you believe in reincarnation, for example, believers testify to the fact they have a deep connection with those who were in their life in some way before. The theory has never been proven wrong. As a matter of fact, experts can’t prove the concept one way or the other. Every experience is personal and the majority of recipients can’t harness their abilities. Maybe the stars or God or even ghosts have a hand in determining who interacts in psychic methods.”

  “So you’re saying we have this bond because of a past we shared?”

  She smiled. “I don’t know for certain, but I’ve always been able to see and talk with ghosts. Can that be explained? Some would call me idealized or worse, crazy.”

  “But you believe?” Montana asked.

  “Absolutely. I pushed away this gift years ago. Now…” Her words trailed off. She’d been forced to use her gift, but to who’s benefit? “Now I think it’s time I face that I am in the middle of these murders. They’re being killed because of me.” The realization was almost freeing.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Yes, detective. You know I’m right. If Michael is the killer, my belief is that he has split into at least two personalities. He may feel as if he has to right some wrong. The theory isn’t as crazy as you might think.” Destiny heard the words and hadn’t put the concept together before. She was right.

  “You have to be kidding me.”

  She shook her head and gulped her drink. “No, I’m not. Think about what we’ve learned. He had an abusive childhood. His father was, well we’ll just say a true monster. His mother left, leaving Michael alone because of her fear. You know, I actually talked with her a few days ago.”

  “You did? I can’t seem to trust you. Don’t you think that might have been important to tell me? You can’t continue to play cop here. Do you understand me?”

  “She was still terrified and you know what?” Destiny lifted her head.

  “I’m afraid to ask,” Montana whispered.

  “She warned me about Michael. She thinks he’s evil, the devil’s spawn.”

  He sighed. “Then I have no other doubt. He’s our killer.”

  Donna Thomas. The name was suddenly familiar. She set her drink on the counter and walked toward her briefcase. A flash of pain from her whipping forced a moan from her lips.

  “What is it?”

  “Donna Thomas. I know that name.” She jerked out the laptop, powering up. “Come on.” She glanced at his pensive face. “I have his case file with me. I can’t get the murders out of my mind.”

  “I mean you winced. Are you hurt?” Montana inched forward.

  “No. No! I’m fine.” There was no way she was going to tell him about Christopher.

  “No, you’re not fine.” He gripped her arm.

  Destiny pulled away. “Stop. We may have had a night together, but you don’t own me.”

  “Own you?”

  She could see an odd look in his eyes a split second before he shifted his gaze. “I’m fine.” Thank God so much of her work was on a special database, allowing her almost instant access given keywords. She typed in the name and within seconds had a hit. “His mother.”

  “What?” A shocked expression appeared on his face.

  “One of her names anyway. Through our various sessions, Michael threw out several. He knew why she ran and he continued to find her on line. She was his nemesis and a part of his life he had no control over.”

  “So he’s going to kill her?” Montana’s question was laced with anger.

  “I don’t know. He didn’t talk about her very much.” She tried to remember the various sessions. He was angry about his family, but enough to kill? Yes. He was. She swallowed hard. “I need to get ready to go to the office.”

  “You’re not going.”

  “I have to. I refuse to live in fear.”

  Montana let out a long breath before crowding her space, pushing her against the wall.

  “Ouch!” The exclamation slipped from her mouth before she could stop the agonizing sound.

  Darting his eyes back and forth, he twisted her arm, tugging her forward, and lifting her dress.

  “Stop. What are you doing?”

  Montana shrunk back, the look on his face one of shock. “Did I do that to you?”

  “No! Of course not.” Destiny yanked down her dress. Suddenly she was embarrassed. “No. You were gentle.”

  “Then who?”

  What in the hell was she going to tell him? “It’s nothing.”

  “Destiny.” He looked her up and down then growled. “You went back to the club. Didn’t you? Didn’t you? You’re investigating on your own when I explicitly told you not to. You’re nuts.”

  “This isn’t what you think.”

  “Then what?”

  “Montana. Don’t. Just let it alone,” she pleaded.

  He dropped her arm and walked backward, holding up his hands. “You’re right. You don’t owe me anything. None of my business, but I am worried about you. You’re being followed. You have an unstable patient, four dead ones and a list that includes your name. The murderer is escalating his methods. His kills are clear torture. Do you hear me? Do you understand at all?”

  There was no doubting how much he cared about her. She walked toward him. “Montana. You’ve been suspended from the force. Michael doesn’t want to be found. There are two connections, the fact they were my patients and my guess is you’re going to tell me that Maria was murdered outside of the club. There is no other choice than to have me undercover.”

  “You forget two important issues. One, I’m going to bet that Mistress Jade knows you complained to the police about Mr. Peterson. There is no way she’ll trust you with anything and two, Michael has this list and my bet is that if he’s the killer, he will finish what he started.”

  “I understand. I’m not naive. Besides, what other choice do we have?”

  Montana exhaled. “We? There is no ‘we’ here. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. Really.” She heard another knock on the door and was thankful for the interruption. She wasn’t ready to tell him anything about her needs or her recent decisions. “I’ll be right back.” Her ears were ringing, a headache forming in her temples. She was at a loss for what to do and was going to have to believe that Michael was the killer. Stupid. She felt stupid and used.

  When she answered the door, she was taken aback. “Christopher. I mean Master Sampson. I mean… What are you doing here?” Roses? What was he doing with roses in his hand? She glanced around him, as if Michael was watching. An odd group of sensations rushed up from her toes. The air crackled, full of electricity.

  Christopher held out the flowers and bowed his head. “Please forgive me for last night. My business can interrupt and I need to address, but last night was not the appropriate time.”

  “That’s fine. You have your work as I have mine. Thank you for the roses.” Her words were stilted. He was unshaven, the two-day stubble adding a sexy quality. His blue eyes were no longer full of light, but dull with dark circles under them. “No need to forgive anything.” She heard footsteps behind her and blocked as much of the doorway as possible.

  Christopher looked over her shoulder. “You have company. I should have called.”

  “No. I mean I do.” She heard the detective hissing under his breath. Montana wasn’t going to let this go.

  Taking a step back, Christopher narrowed his eyes and looked directly at the approaching man.

  Montana stood behind her, his head cocked. “And you are?”

  “A friend. Nothing more.” Christopher gave a coy smile.

  “Yes, a friend,” Destiny added.

  “Who just happens to bring you flowers,” Montana said with disdain as he held out his hand. “Detective Montana Givens. I’m also a friend, a very good friend.”

  Christopher gripped his and both men stared into each other’s eyes.

  Nausea rolled into the pit of Destiny’s stomach as if she’d been punched. She recoiled, taking two steps back as beads of perspiration popped above her top lip. As the two men continued the hold, the nightmare from her evening with Montana turned into a vision. Blood and bone, bile and vomit. And Montana’s vacant and very dead eyes.

  CHAPTER 22

  Montana held his breath as a series of visions and gruesome images floated though his mind as if in slow motion. There was no denying he was as connected to this stranger as he was to Destiny. He tried to capture what he was seeing, but the vivid near photographs were blurry, faceless, yet left him drained and haunted. He wasn’t certain who broke the hold but he was sweating and unsure of his surroundings for a few seconds.

  “Detective. Good to meet you.”

  He heard the words as if said in another dimension. When he was able to blink and catch his breath, the stranger was already in his car. “Who is he?” He realized the mystery man hadn’t given a name. Interesting as well as telling.

  “No one,” Destiny whispered.

  Swallowing, he turned to look at her. She was pale, sweat beaded above her lip, her expression full of curiosity and something else. Desire. “I need to know.”

  “I said, no one who matters.” She left him standing at the door, retreating into the house.

  He stood still, watching the man drive away in his sleek, black car. Registering the license plate, he pulled out his phone, typing the numbers and letters in a note. This man held some key, but to Destiny or the case? After a full minute, he closed the door and leaned against the door jamb.

  The vision had been unusual and full of violence. While the majority of images were graphic, others were more of a sexual nature. He glanced down the hallway. She’d been with him, but how? He dialed Grant’s number and after four rings his partner answered. “Are you alone?”

  “You shouldn’t be calling me,” Grant said in a hushed tone.

  “I need some information, a license plate run for me.”

  “Partner, things went to shit in the hour since you’ve been gone. I can’t be seen talking to you in person or on the phone. Period. You are bad news.”

  Montana chuckled but realized someone was gunning for him. He was getting close to finding the truth. “I ruffled feathers, but that doesn’t change the facts. Write this down.”

  “I’m not sure I should do this,” Grant said then groaned.

  “Just do it. I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “Yeah? And you shouldn’t be dealing with anything. You’re on suspension or did you forget so damn quickly?”

  “Look,” Montana hissed into the phone. “I need help here and I’m not the bad guy. There is a storm brewing and somehow Destiny, Dr. Blade as well as the club are smack in the middle. I have a piece of the puzzle I need to rule out. Understand?”

  “Fine. Give me what you have.”

  He rattled off the plate. “I just need to know who he is.”

  “Let me guess. You’re not going to tell me jack shit about this guy.”

  “Not yet. What about the warrant for Jade’s place?”

  Grant burst into laughter. “There’s so much red tape, we’ll be lucky to get to talk to her ever again. She has more than just influential friends. She knows everybody in this town.”

  Of course. All Jade had to do was make a few phone calls. “What about Michael?”

  “I’ll let you know if we find him but do me a favor. Stay away. Don’t call me. I’ll call you. I have a bad feeling my phone is tapped.”

  Montana heard the aggravation and concern in Grant’s voice. “All right but call me. Can you wrangle police protection for Dr. Blade?”

  “Geez. That might be tough, but I’ll try. Right now this case is tainted.”

  “Do. There is no doubt she’s in imminent danger.” He would bet the department was trying to minimalize the evidence, pushing some if not all under a huge and messy rug.

  “Okay. Just don’t get caught investigating. Gotta go.” Grant ended the call.

  He held the phone and contemplated his next moves. What if Michael wasn’t the killer? Or what if he was being manipulated by someone else? The mystery man was obviously someone Destiny cared about, or perhaps vice versa. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and tried to remember every detail of the memory. Death. The concept was certain, but who? Destiny. He’d bet his life. That wasn’t going to happen.

  First stop, talk to the mother and find out about Michael’s father. He walked back into the kitchen. Her face was pensive. She’d refilled her glass and was pacing the floor. “I’m hoping that police protection will be on the way.”

  “You mean they’re going to follow me all day?”

  “No, I mean you’re going to stay right here.”

  She shook her head. “Uh, no. I have work to do. I have patients who need me. I’m not hiding.”

  “You don’t know where Michael will be.”

  “Then I’ll buy a gun.”

  Her stubbornness was endearing but a danger to herself. “Not on my watch. Cancel your appointments. You can come with me while I get my laptop. Then I have some work to do. You’ll be safe until the officers are approved.” He heard the discord in his own voice. There would be no help coming.

  “Work? Weren’t you suspended?” She asked, her tone haughty.

  He swallowed and walked toward her. “This isn’t a game. If Michael is the killer, then he knows we’re onto him. That means he’s going to want to finish what he started. I can’t be everywhere. I’ll stay with you as long as I can, but-“

  “But you’re going to play hero and get yourself killed.” Destiny opened her eyes wide as she interrupted.

  He could tell she hadn’t intended spewing the words. “I’m going to be fine.”

  “Don’t fuck with me. You saw the same visions. Didn’t you?”

  “What visions?”

  “Damn you! You might not believe in the occult or ghosts, but I know when you touched…” She bit her lip and groaned.

  “Him? You mean the man who beat you?”

  “He didn’t beat me!”

  “Then what?” Montana purposely softened his voice. She was on edge, ready to bolt.

  “I…” Destiny looked away.

  “Talk to me. What is going on?”

  Gulping air, she shook her head. “I wanted to find out more about D/s.”

  “You? As in?” He wasn’t shocked. He’d been able to sense her submissive tendencies.

  “I crave what I can’t have in normal relationships.”

  He thought about her admittance. “The club isn’t the way. Trusting a stranger isn’t safe. You have to know that.”

  “I do, but I just thought I would find out more. I know. I sound like a lovesick school girl.”

  “This man. Do you trust him?”

  “I didn’t at first. I trust very few. But now. Yes, I do.” She smiled as if happy she’d opened up.

  “I’m not sure what to say.” He was rattled by the fact he wanted to be the one to share the experience with her. He wanted to learn to discipline, become the dominant. Struck hard by the realization, he squashed what he really wanted to say to her.

  “There’s nothing you can say.” She tipped her head back, mumbling under her breath. “I’m getting ready for work and you’re not going to stop me. You can come along, but I’m not halting my life for anyone. Do you understand?”

  “Oh, I understand.” He nodded several times. “And do you understand you have no choice? I’m going to be with you whether you like it or not.”

  Destiny set her drink down with a hard thud. “I can’t stop you.”

  “I need to know about Michael’s father. You will tell me the details, won’t you?”

  “Patient doctor privilege.”

  “Your damn morals could be your death.”

  “So be it.” She left the kitchen after giving him a harsh look.

  He exhaled and pounded his hand against the wall. The shit was getting deep.

  Christopher gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Going to Destiny’s house had been ridiculous. Flowers? Even more so. He was off his game. She was his submissive, his prize, not his love interest. Then there was the detective. He gunned the gas pedal, flying through the intersection. There was no denying he’d seen a vision when he’d touched the officer’s hand. Perhaps he’d been hallucinating. Either way, the detective had a professional interest in the club. What did he want? He’d read about the murders. Hints tied the horrific events to the BDSM community. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to get caught in the web.