Cold & Deadly

by Toni Anderson

  She trembled in his hold.

  Was she cold or did she feel this inconvenient attraction too? He hoped to hell it was all one-sided, because that would make it much easier to keep his hands to himself.

  Her hazel eyes were huge and full of shadows. She swallowed noisily. “Sorry. I was projecting. I’ve been on the receiving end of enough brushoffs to feel sorry for Suzanna. It sucks.”

  “I’ve been there too, Ava. Most people have.” His gaze flicked to the blemish on her brow and the fresh graze on her cheek. “Is that how you got the scar?”

  “No.”

  “Not gonna tell me that story?”

  “I doubt it.”

  He laughed. At least she was honest.

  The doorbell rang again.

  Ava blinked, and he stepped back. He wasn’t doing a good job of keeping her at arm’s length but here came the cavalry. Dominic checked the peephole this time.

  Lincoln Frazer, head of BAU-4, peered back at him, looking pissed at being kept waiting.

  Dominic swung the door open. Lincoln stepped inside to be greeted by the dog who went ballistic sniffing the guy’s pant legs. Lincoln was followed by the heavily pregnant agent who’d accompanied him to the scene of the shooting at Van’s funeral. Agent Mallory Rooney. The senator’s daughter.

  He winced because he hated when people did that—labeled him by his father’s achievements rather than his own.

  Another man stood behind them, assessing Dominic with quiet gray eyes.

  Lincoln eyed his bruised face. “Hurt much?”

  Dominic shrugged.

  “Thought so.” The man grinned. “So, I guess the big question is, who wants you dead and why?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You guys remember Special Agent Ava Kanas?” Dominic asked as he closed the door behind the newcomers.

  “How could we forget the Special Agent who is single-handedly saving America,” Lincoln Frazer commented dryly, but his tone was amused rather than critical.

  The third man stepped forward and held out his hand. “Alex Parker. Agent Rooney’s husband. I consult for the FBI on cybersecurity matters.”

  Ava shook his hand. This was the guy rumored to have worked for the CIA before he was incarcerated in a Moroccan jail. Ava noted they wore matching scars on their brows. She wondered if he’d got his from being pistol whipped after watching his father’s murder. Something in the depths of his eyes suggested worse. Much worse.

  He smiled, and she found herself smiling back.

  Sheridan led the way to the dining room. Ava followed, walking beside the heavily pregnant agent. Parker played with the dog as he brought up the rear.

  “When’s your baby due?” Ava asked.

  Rooney shot her a rueful glance. “Three more weeks. I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever.”

  “You’re working right up until the birth?”

  “To the bitter end, which is why Alex is hovering even more than he usually does,” Rooney said with a smile that suggested she didn’t mind. “I’m actually surprised he hasn’t signed up for a midwifery course just in case something goes wrong.”

  “Where do you think I go every Thursday afternoon?” he asked with a straight face.

  Rooney gave her husband a quelling look, then nodded toward Frazer. “The boss banned me from traveling for work, but this is within easy driving distance of Quantico. I’d rather do something useful than sit around wondering where my toes went.”

  Ava laughed. “Enjoy the freedom while you can.”

  “You have kids?”

  Dominic glanced sharply over his shoulder.

  Ava shook her head. She had no idea how she’d be able to meld a family with a successful FBI career, or unsuccessful one for that matter. Rooney obviously had a supportive husband, but not everyone was a millionaire who could consult for the FBI.

  Ava was only twenty-six and, despite her mother’s incessant nagging, wasn’t in any rush to get hitched. She didn’t want to be tied down any more than Sheridan did. “My sister has two kids under two. We talk.”

  Rooney blew out a breath that made her bangs dance. “Now that’s bravery.”

  Dominic led them to his fancy dining table and invited them all to sit. He went and grabbed his laptop, then sat at the head of the table. He moved stiffly, obviously in pain, but too stoic to admit it. He probably shouldn’t even be out of bed, never mind working a case.

  Ava didn’t know what was going on between the two of them. Work, for sure. A vested interest in Van’s death and figuring out what the hell was happening. But something else too. Some undercurrent of attraction they were both pretending didn’t exist.

  Seeing Suzanna, the poor besotted neighbor salivating on the doorstep had made Ava take a giant mental step back. But who hadn’t made a mistake when it came to relationships? She was pretty sure every man she’d ever slept with had been a major error in judgment. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She needed to concentrate on getting her job back.

  “What have you got for us?” Frazer asked intently.

  “Agent Kanas and I have determined that a total of seven agents who I worked with in the New York Field Office are now deceased, including Van Stamos and Calvin Mortimer.”

  If Sheridan was right about his theory it would be the first time in the history of the FBI where agents had been ruthlessly and systematically targeted. Ava held her breath.

  Frazer swore. “Which squad?”

  “Violent Crimes.”

  “You think someone purposely murdered Mortimer, Stamos, and the other men in that squad because of something that occurred in New York?” Rooney asked.

  Sheridan nodded.

  “Any cases spring to mind that might have incited this level of vengeance?” asked Frazer.

  “It was New York so could have been anything. Mob stuff,”—Ava forced herself not to react—“serial killers, serial rapists, kidnapping, murder, intimidation, witness tampering, bribery, corruption. We had a piece of anything that turned nasty and a lot of people went to prison.” Dominic shrugged and continued. “Some of the deaths might be natural causes—cancer, heart attacks, but I have trouble believing seven men below the age of sixty just happened to die unexpectedly within the last twelve months.”

  “Seems like a hell of a coincidence,” Parker commented.

  Sheridan went into the kitchen and brought back a coffee pot and five mugs. Parker fetched a jug of milk. The smell of beef stew floated through the air, making Ava slightly nauseous.

  Frazer got up and stared at the view of the pool, huge lawn and nearby woods. “We’re going to need to re-examine the details of those agents’ deaths.”

  Rooney broke in. “Do you think your accident last night was related?”

  “The GHB in my system suggests it wasn’t an accident,” Sheridan said easily.

  “But was it related to these other deaths or was it related to the drug smuggling operation being run out of that bar?” Ava asked in frustration. Too many questions and possibilities.

  “I can see the guys in the bar trying to get rid of a couple of Feds who got too close,” Parker put in.

  “Organized crime knows that messing with Feds is the surest way to bring a whole load of attention to your illegal activities,” Frazer objected.

  “Sometimes the Mob gets bold,” Parker stated quietly. He looked at Ava as he said it. Did he know about her past? It was secret, but maybe if you were a really good cybersecurity expert nothing was secret. She feigned nonchalance.

  “Why was Van Stamos in that bar last week? Was it a place he regularly visited? Could he have been investigating the drug runners?” Rooney turned her head to one side as she asked the same questions that had been swirling in Ava’s mind for hours.

  “He never mentioned going there to me.” Ava shrugged. “Maybe someone contacted him with information…I don’t know.”

  “Where’s Van’s cell phone?” Parker asked.

  Sheridan looked at him. “I can get it
for you.”

  “Alex is a wizard with cell phone data.” Rooney’s eyes sparkled as she took a sip of coffee her husband poured for her.

  “I don’t need the phone but I need to know his carrier,” said Parker.

  “I’ll find out,” Sheridan wrote a note for himself on his cell.

  “Anything back on the shoe prints?” Ava asked Sheridan.

  “Shoe prints?” Frazer queried.

  “When Van’s body was found the window in his office was open,” Dominic explained. “When I checked outside the window last night, there were distinct impressions in the soil. I asked Ray Aldrich to get the evidence response team back in to make plaster-casts and to check the surface of the window for contact DNA or fingerprints.”

  “Why use the window? If someone was there why not use the door?” queried Rooney.

  “You can avoid tripping the security lights by going out that side window and heading straight to the fence,” Dominic answered.

  Ava’s eyes widened. He hadn’t mentioned that snippet of information last night, but it explained why he’d been snooping around in the dark.

  “How would the dealers from the bar know that?” Parker handed her a coffee and offered her milk which she accepted gratefully.

  “They wouldn’t,” said Ava. “Only someone who’d staked out the house would know that.”

  “Then someone might have been stalking him beforehand,” said Frazer contemplatively. “Watching him and waiting for the perfect opportunity, which doesn’t scream drug dealers to me.”

  “But the coincidence with what was going on at the bar…” Ava hated coincidences. “And there is still no proof Van was murdered.”

  “Except your conviction and Dominic’s,” said Frazer.

  “There’s something else weird.” Dominic glanced at Ava, and she pressed her lips together. If they were wrong and this got out, Van’s legacy would be blighted. No one would remember the arrests or his work with victims. It would be all about the fact he’d died with his johnson hanging out.

  Dominic knew it too. “We spoke to the neighbor who found Van’s body. He said when he arrived Van’s pants were undone. The neighbor adjusted the clothing before calling the cops, because he didn’t want his friend to be found that way.”

  Frazer stared at Dominic and then at Ava. The iciness in his gaze was like frost on a windshield. Ava suspected it was something he cultivated to keep people at a distance.

  “Neighbor’s theory was Van had a sexual encounter and was so overcome with guilt for cheating on his dead wife that he shot himself,” Dominic continued.

  Frazer’s lip curled. “I find it hard to believe a retired agent would leave himself exposed in that fashion even if he’d felt guilty enough to kill himself. He knew how law enforcement talked.” He narrowed his eyes. “It is the sort of thing an UNSUB might do if they wanted to humiliate a victim.”

  “We need the surveillance footage from the bar the night Van was there. See who he spoke to.” Dominic adjusted his sling, lips twisting into a grimace.

  Frazer eyed Ava. “That’s not going to be easy.”

  “Once the higher ups see the list of dead agents surely the DEA will cooperate?” she said defensively. “And the DEA saw us enter and leave that bar. We weren’t exactly low profile. I’m assuming they had someone inside the place. Why the hell hasn’t one of them contacted us about Van being there the night he died? Don’t they read the damn news?”

  Frazer spread his hands on the table. “It’s all circumstantial.”

  “It seems to me like we have several different things we’re trying to establish here that are muddying the waters.” Parker leaned forward. “Whether Van Stamos or any of the other agents were murdered and who spiked Sheridan’s drink last night. And are the events linked?”

  “How do we find answers if the DEA won’t cooperate with their surveillance footage?” Ava asked.

  Parker shrugged. “I might be able to see what the DEA has if they keep the digital evidence stored in their system, but it could take time.”

  “There’s also an ATM machine opposite the Mule & Pitcher.” Ava had forgotten about that with everything else that had happened.

  “What about the guy who started the bar fight last night?” Dominic asked her.

  Ava shifted on the hard, wooden chair. “He said he’d be willing to work with a police sketch artist but wasn’t sure what he’d remember when he sobered up. I was suspended before I could follow up.”

  Frazer made a note on his phone. “I’ll check in on the status of that and get a background check run on the guy. Then, while Alex is conducting pen-tests on the DEA’s system—”

  Alex grinned at Ava’s startled look. “They pay me to find faults in their network.”

  Frazer grunted. “Too damn much. Anyway, I’ll talk to a friend there and explain this thing might be bigger than a drug bust or even the attempted murder of two agents. If nothing else they might be able to get us some information on whether or not the men in custody admit to roofying Dominic. Dominic—you check into the status of the task force investigating Calvin Mortimer’s murder. If we get any definitive evidence that these other deaths are connected then the investigation will most likely be taken over by that task force. Mark Gross is in charge. He’s a good agent.”

  “I’d go question the waitress—if I wasn’t suspended.” The reality of Ava’s situation hit her all over again.

  Dominic cleared his throat. “I was hoping you might put in a good word for Agent Kanas with the director…”

  So that’s why he’d invited her over here with these guys. Ava rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to beg for favors from people she didn’t know.

  Frazer laughed. “I don’t have that kind of pull with the director.”

  “Bullshit.” Dominic started to fold his arms and then winced in pain.

  “Not bullshit.” Frazer sent Rooney a rueful look. “I used up all my favors over the last nine months. And if Agent Kanas isn’t reinstated, she can’t work this case, not even on the periphery. It could throw any evidence we collect into jeopardy once it gets to court.”

  Ava felt the blood drain from her head. The idea of sitting around in her apartment waiting to be fired was soul destroying.

  “You do it,” Frazer said to Sheridan. “With your personal connections you could probably get her reinstated at Fredericksburg while OPR conducts its investigation.” Frazer played with his mug as he spoke.

  “What ‘connections’?” Ava bit out.

  Dominic stayed stubbornly silent.

  “His father is the Governor of Vermont.” Frazer’s expression was cloaked, but a slight smile played around his lips.

  Ava blinked slowly. She’d guessed Dominic came from power and influence.

  “And his godfather is Joshua Hague.”

  Ava’s eyes stretched wide. “Joshua Hague?”

  “Yes, Joshua Hague, the President of the United States of America.” Frazer seemed to enjoy outing Sheridan’s connections, but Ava felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach.

  Dominic refused to meet her gaze. “My father and godfather have no influence on anything within the Bureau.”

  “They shouldn’t have.” Frazer’s smile was cynical. “If you ask Ray Aldrich to reinstate her, he’ll do it. You know he’ll do it for you.”

  Dominic grunted. “And what does that say about my integrity? I’ve spent years making sure I never crossed that line. Never asked for favors based on who I might be related to.”

  So much for Dominic using all his influence to help her get her job back.

  “That’s very convenient when it’s my career on the line, not yours.” Ava should admire the man for not using his connections for personal gain. Except this wasn’t about him. She was the one with everything to lose.

  “I won’t compromise my integrity.”

  “You don’t think I’m even worth the trouble of picking up the phone.” The realization stung.

  “Of cour
se, I think you’re worth it. But these are politically powerful men—they are not FBI. They do not influence the day to day running of the Bureau. And I can’t approach the director because I don’t want him feeling like if he doesn’t do something for me then he gets in trouble with POTUS.”

  So, she got to rot after almost dying trying to figure out what happened to him. Angry tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She’d rather die than cry in front of these people.

  “I won’t put the president in a difficult position.” Anger flashed in Dominic’s usually calm eyes.

  The fist in her throat expanded. She thought about her life. The difficult life-altering and life-threatening choices she had made over the years. And this man who’d offered to help wouldn’t even put in a good word for her. Ava climbed slowly to her feet. “I don’t care about your political connections, but you don’t even have the balls to stand up for me as a fellow agent.”

  He stood too, and they were staring each other down over the dining table. “My integrity is important to me.”

  His integrity wouldn’t pay her rent. “We were both doing things our bosses told us not to do, but I’m the only one who got canned. Is that the FBI bureaucracy treating us equally or is the fact you have political connections already in play?”

  Dominic’s mouth tightened. “Maybe they didn’t want to suspend a man while he was unconscious.”

  He’d almost died, but so had she. She’d killed a man last night.

  Ava began to gather her things together before she lost it in front of these people.

  “Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll talk to Aldrich. Sit down, Ava. We have work to do.” His narrowed eyes met hers, expression resentful. She was sure hers looked exactly the same.

  She fought with herself and her pride and the desire to storm out. That would only prove to these agents that she was rash and impetuous, something Van had tried to coach her against. She needed her damn job. She got a tight grip on her temper and paced the length of the dining room waiting for the anger in her blood to cool.