He brushed his hand through his hair and had to face the fact that Destiny was close to the man, but how much so? He wasn’t used to having a rival, not in business or in pleasure. Steven Drummand could certainly ascertain. He laughed as he headed for the office. He was going to find out everything he could about Detective Montana Givens and everyone had a secret. He refused to lose her to another man.

  The recent threats from Stephen’s attorney had left him on edge, but he declined to succumb to the man’s tyranny. The project was continuing. He couldn’t afford to go into the winter months without having the facility under roof. He was going to end the bullshit today. No man was going to attempt to blackmail him into reversing the Decision Committee’s decision. Every future acquisition depended on every one of his actions from now on. He would show no mercy. The very thought brought him back to reality. Today was all about crushing his opponent. The rest would have to wait.

  He drove into the parking garage and into his private spot. Cutting the engine, he sat quietly as he thought about Jade’s comments. There was more to the story behind Destiny and her involvement with the cop. Jade’s warning he would heed, if not for himself, for the woman he would own soon enough.

  After grabbing his briefcase, he headed for the elevator. A sudden rush of adrenaline was followed by a sharp pain in his head. Doubling over, he fell against a car as his heart rate increased. His vision blurry, he tried to control his breathing, but the effort only increased the anguish.

  Die! You will die…

  The images were startling, an all-consuming fire, flames eating through wood and tapestry, flesh and bone. He could hear echoes of screams and smell the acid smoke filling his lungs. Petrified, he slid down to the ground, panting as the crackling and hissing sounds increased in volume. He dropped the case and covered his ears, but the noise, the screams and pitiful wails became enhanced.

  He heard the sound of his own heartbeat, thumping rapidly against his chest. Closing his eyes, the vivid colors morphed, undulating figures begging for release. A bitter taste rose from his throat, the copper taste creating bile. Blood. The sound of laughter assaulted his ears and within seconds he realized he was the one laughing hysterically. Get a grip. Calm down.

  “Fuck you. You won’t beat me.” Were the words being said to a ghost or the demon living deep within?

  One shallow breath became several as the images slowed down. He was unable to grasp faces, only forms and haunted eyes. Voices. He heard voices, sing-songy jargons and words, nothing making sense, but he knew they were waiting to strip him of all he had. Jerking up his head, he squinted. In the distance he could make out forms in the fog. Demons. A cold chill was replaced by rage consuming every cell. The bullshit was going to stop. He dropped his head, counting to ten. When he lifted and blinked, he could make out several figures approaching.

  “No, we beat him fair and square in court.”

  “If you think he’s not going to appeal, you’re nuts.”

  “Why don’t we go to lunch and try and forget about the corrupt system?”

  The voices became whispers, finally disappearing in the vast space.

  Chastising his ridiculous behavior, Christopher wiped his eyes and used the car for leverage as he rose to his feet. He brushed off his suit and grabbed his briefcase. Whatever he’d seen had vanished. After scanning the perimeter of the garage, he exhaled and adjusted his tie. He wasn’t losing his mind. He was channeling his own darkening fears of losing all control. Clearing his throat, he took several tentative steps away from the vehicle. When there no other floating images, no ghosts attempting to drag him into hell, he rolled his eyes and walked toward the elevator.

  Perhaps he needed a vacation. Plastering on a smile, he pushed away the insidious occurrence, instead turning his attention to the day’s business. Finalizing the takedown of Stephen Drummand was in order. He would take immense pleasure in ruining the man who’d become his enemy.

  Click!

  Hearing the single sound, he stopped but remained facing forward. He sensed there a presence but resisted moving or appearing concerned. “What do you want?” He’d give the asshole credit for attempting to make good on his threats.

  “What do I want?” The laugh was bitter. Footsteps moved toward him.

  Christopher exhaled and checked his watch, the moves exaggerated.

  “You know what I want. Justice. I want what is mine.”

  “Stephen, you of all people understand the concept of business. You made a deal. The contracts are signed. River City Aisles is going forward. Whether you’re remorseful or even believe you made a deal with the devil doesn’t matter. There is no going back.” He resumed his pace, whistling as he held his head high.

  “Never forget, Christopher, I know all the beasts living just under the surface of your skin. Every one of them. You think you’re unstoppable, but I’ve fed off your weaknesses already. There is nowhere to run and no way to hide from the man you truly are. You have no choice. I’m ready to expose you as the monster you’ve become and there will be no one coming to your rescue.”

  This time he turned around, preferring to allow his enemy to see the whites of his eyes. Except there was no one standing in the shadows. There was no man cajoling him or group of people waiting in the wings. He cocked his head and took several steps forward. “Give it your best shot, Stephen. I don’t scare easily. Besides, you’re a member of the freak society yourself. I’m certain the Press and your Board of Directors would love to know.”

  He looked from right to left as he awaited an answer, the smile remaining on his face.

  There was nothing but silence.

  "Do you need anything, detective?”

  Destiny couldn’t help but smile hearing the disdain in Gina’s voice. The girl was a ballbuster exactly when needed the most. “He doesn’t need anything. In fact, he can go if he’d like to.”

  “Not a chance,” Montana answered from the waiting room.

  She knew Montana was doing everything to solve the case. She wasn’t proud of supplying him with information regarding Michael’s family, but at this point losing her license was the least of her worries. If only she’d concentrated on the abuse more than the actualities of his life today. Perhaps neither of them would be in the situation now. No, chastising herself wasn’t going to do her any good. Michael had seemed relatively normal in the beginning, merely bogged down by life. Yeah? You knew he was losing his mental faculties, yet you did nothing. The little voice was right. She’d failed him.

  Gina stuck her head into Destiny’s office. “Two more appointments today.”

  “Yes. Shame everyone seems to be running late.”

  “What’s wrong. Hot dinner date?” Gina mused as she nodded toward the waiting room.

  “Very funny. No, Detective Givens is here on official business.” Destiny hadn’t told her assistant any details. There’d been nothing during the day to indicate anything was out of order. She hadn’t received any return calls from Michael and he certainly hadn’t shown his face.

  She folded her arms and walked toward Destiny’s desk. “The murders?”

  Destiny nodded.

  “Michael. He’s the psychopath.”

  “Now what makes you say that?” She dropped her pen and gave Gina her full attention.

  “He’s weird for one thing.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but quite a few of our patients are weird.”

  “Yeah, but this guy is… Well, he’s changed.”

  “Okay, tell me how you see these changes.”

  Gina looked over her shoulder and walked closer, a shiver visible in her actions. “He leered at me the last few times he came in. His mannerisms were odd, like he was being directed. I don’t how to put this into words. I know. Doesn’t make sense.”

  “Actually, your observations are spot on. Go on.”

  “He kept talking to someone on the phone. They were making him angry.”

  “Who?” Destiny sat up in her seat.

  “I don’t know but I think it was always the same person. Michael tried to keep his answers vague and whispered, but I heard enough to tell he was riddled with anxiety.” Gina bit her lip and swallowed. “He said things like ‘I’m doing what you asked me to do’ and ‘no, I don’t need your help’.”

  She made notes and thought about who he might be talking to. “He didn’t have a lot of friends from what the various comments he made in his sessions.”

  “I told you, weird. Every time he left he’d say the same thing. ‘Until we meet for the last time’.”

  Destiny blinked and while the words could mean anything, she had the distinct feeling they were a warning. “Interesting.”

  “I’m just glad he stopped calling. That’s for certain.”

  “What do you mean stopped calling?”

  “Oh, I thought I told you. He called up until like four days ago at least twice a day. He’d ask if you were in and what you were doing. After the first time I told him you were out of the office,” Gina said then frowned. “Did I do the wrong thing?”

  “No, you did exactly the right thing.” Fear trickled down her spine. “Anything else?”

  “Not that I can think of. You know, the words aren’t what bothered me. The way he said them, as if he was in control of you, pissed me off. See? I think he’s the killer.”

  Destiny glanced toward the door, debating telling Montana. “I guess the cops are going to find out.”

  “Good. I’ll show Ms. Wainwright in when she gets here.”

  “Thank you.” At least the patient was a pleasant grandma. When Gina left her office, she inhaled and wrote several additional notes on her pad. Who could he have been talking to? Maybe Montana was correct in that someone was working with Michael. She groaned and closed her eyes. She was no detective and a piss poor judge of characters as of late.

  Hearing footsteps, she opened her eyes. Gina’s face was ashen. “What’s wrong.”

  “A delivery for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “I think you need to come see.”

  Destiny rose from her chair as Montana burst into the room. “We are leaving, now.”

  “What’s wrong?” She bypassed Gina and pushed past Montana. The vase was cut crystal and oversized. In them were at least two dozen roses. She cocked her head as she walked toward Gina’s desk, her mind reeling. The stems were riddled with thorns and the petals were curled and very dead. “Jesus.”

  “Damn it. I leave for a second and look what happens,” Montana hissed.

  Destiny studied the bouquet. The gift was a warning or perhaps a story.

  “Is there a card?” Montana asked, flanking her side.

  “There is,” Gina offered, her voice little more than a whisper.

  “Who delivered them?” Montana took out his phone, taking several pictures.

  “Just a delivery guy. He didn’t say anything. He just smiled, like this was a joke.” Gina moved toward the wall.

  Destiny reached for the card.

  “Hold on. There might be evidence. Do you have a tissue and a plastic bag?” Montana held out his arm.

  “Yeah.” Flustered, Gina walked in a large arc around them to the other side of her desk. She grabbed a tissue from her desk, her hand shaking as she held out her arm. Her actions stilted, she walked into the small galley kitchen, grabbing a Ziploc bag from a drawer.

  Destiny gave Montana a nod before taking the tissue, using it to peel the envelope from the holder. She carefully maneuvered out the card. “Once mine will always be. Until the end of time or live eternally.”

  “What the hell?” Gina whispered.

  “Gina, there’s a logo on the card. Find out who ordered these if you can.” Montana directed. He turned his attention to Destiny. “I need to get this to evidence to see if there is any DNA. Cancel the rest of your appointments.” He carefully placed the card and the envelope in the clear bag.

  “Yes. I will. Now.” Gina picked up her phone and dialed. “Yes, we just received a delivery. I need to know who sent the flowers.”

  “No. I have one due any minute and a new patient in an hour. Then I’m done. I’m not running. I told you that.” Unnerved, Destiny shook her head. The poem was different but indeed sounded like something Michael would say.

  “Damn it. We can’t play games any longer.” Montana paced as he glared at her.

  She gave him a waning smile. “I’m fine here with Gina. Do what you need to do and I’ll wait for you to get back. Promise.”

  Montana groaned. “Stubborn. Pigheaded.”

  “Why you like me.” Destiny shrugged. “Just a couple of hours. Okay?”

  “I don’t like this. Stay here. I’m going to somehow get a patrol car to at least drive by a few times. If you see anything, hear weird sounds or feel threatened in any manner, you will call me. Do you understand?”

  Destiny nodded. “Don’t worry. I will.”

  Gina hung up the phone. “A random caller. They said the order was a birthday joke. You know, someone turning fifty or maybe older.”

  “How did they pay?” Montana asked.

  “Cash. They left cash in an envelope with delivery instructions. No one noticed who dropped it off but the card was with the payment.” Gina sighed. “So you think this is about Michael?”

  “I don’t know.” Destiny rubbed her arms, but she was beginning to believe.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Fucking Goddamn it!” Montana was furious. The asshole had now crossed the line. “Answer the damn phone. Answer the damn phone!” When he got Grant’s voice mail, his dropped the phone into the passenger seat and slapped the steering wheel. He was smack in the middle of afternoon traffic and was ready to run every shithole driver off the road.

  He had no choice but to go to the station, whether Sargent Wallace threw him out of not. If there were any fingerprints, they had enough evidence for a conviction. What the hell did Michael think he was doing? He jerked the car to a halt at a stop light and remained seething, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. He thought about Grant’s words. He was too close, losing focus. “Think. Think!”

  As he waited, he ran through the case. What were they missing? The fact Grant hadn’t called him back with the owner of the license plate meant his partner was under the Sargent’s thumb. He’d seen the news at noon and the press had nothing good to say about the police department or the investigation.

  Inhaling, his thoughts drifted to Destiny’s needs. He knew enough about a D/s relationship to understand, but she was placing her life into her hands for what? Perfection. He snarled as his inner voice sent him messages from his past. Had he always wanted to be the dominating partner? Hell, he knew the answer. He simply hadn’t wanted to admit his own needs with other women. Not that any of them would have accepted his desires. Few women could understand. Destiny, however, was special. And he wanted her, all of her. Stop. Just stop. Yeah, he had to let that part of his needs go or he’d become a detriment to the case.

  When the light turned green, he popped the accelerator, driving on the wrong side of the road to race ahead of three vehicles. After Destiny’s admittance to what she knew about Michael’s family, finding his father on the Internet had been easy enough. The man was never convicted of a crime, but there had been several reports of abuse to both Michael and his mother. When his mother had left, the information on the father vanished. Maybe he never attacked another woman again. Leopards didn’t change spots. Donna Thomas, Denise Cavanaugh, or whatever her current name, was in his mind in danger. That much he’d left on Grant’s voice mail.

  The rest of the information he’d only do in person. He didn’t need his suspension clouding the investigation. When his phone rang he yanked the piece and groaned as he answered. “Thank God. Have you been avoiding me?”

  “Jesus, I’ve been busy trying to track down a killer. I told you not to call me.”

  “Emergency. Additional events have occurred. No such luck?”

  “Maybe and what events?” Grant said with hesitation in his voice.

  “What do you mean maybe?” There was nothing but dead air on the other end of the line. “What? Talk to me. Destiny just received a pretty vase full of dead flowers with a warning.”

  He sighed. “You know I can’t talk to you about the evidence.”

  “Damn it! I’m coming to you whether you like it or not. I might have DNA on a sick note from the mother fucking jerk-off.”

  “Calm down and you’re not coming here.”

  “Why the hell not?” Pissed was no longer the word. He was seeing red, blood red.

  “Because I’m going to be at another crime scene.”

  The words made him freeze. “What? Another body?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where?”

  “You’re not coming.” Grant insisted.

  Montana hissed into the phone. “Tell me or I swear to God.”

  “Fine. Just stay in the distance. I’m on the scene now.”

  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.”