Cold & Deadly

by Toni Anderson

  She could only hope.

  Her chair scraped against the floor as she pushed back. Rather than stretching out her aching body the way she wanted to, she walked from the room with her chin angled to screw-you.

  Men like Gross had a job to do, but it didn’t mean they had to be assholes or that she had to like it.

  Outside the interview room, the Resident Agency was in total chaos. Half the task force appeared to have relocated here and were working on processing the scenes. Galveston’s old home—which, it turned out, was where Robin Elgin lived, and the church. It turned out the same corporation that had donated land to the church also owned the cabin. It was a shell company registered in the Caymans, and someone was going to have to go down there to get more information.

  It seemed obvious Robin Elgin had applied for the job of pastor in that church due to either a sick obsession or a previously unknown involvement with Peter Galveston. Now Evidence Response Teams were using ground penetrating radar and cadaver dogs at the site, before digging up the possible graves.

  Was Robin Elgin the one who’d orchestrated these murders? Did he know Caroline Perry?

  Ava spotted Dominic looking at a report and talking to Jerry Pine. She headed toward him. Some of the local agents were looking a little wild-eyed at the invasion. Makeshift tables and desks had been brought in and set up in every available inch of space. Phones rang constantly. So much for sleepy Binghamton.

  Ava squeezed behind a couple of agents who had pictures of Robin Elgin strewn across their desk, including one of him dead. She looked up to find Dominic staring at her.

  “I can’t believe I tripped over a fricking tree root,” she said when she got to him. Without him, she’d have been dead.

  He said nothing.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, weary beyond belief but not willing to admit defeat. “What’s the plan?”

  Dominic raised one brow. “I’m persona non grata around here. I was waiting for you before starting the drive back.”

  Ava nodded even though what she really needed was sleep. Since waking in the middle of last night and getting up close and personal with Sheridan, she’d helped end a prison siege, witnessed an exhumation—or an attempted one—and been involved with a shootout. A busy day by anyone’s standards.

  Getting out of town was a priority. She doubted there was a bedroom to be had in a five-mile vicinity of this town.

  They said goodbye to Jerry Pine and the other locals who’d been so much help before the case had blown up in their faces and headed down to the rental she’d parked out front four hours ago.

  “Any updates?” she asked, slipping into the driver’s seat.

  Dominic swore as he opened the door. “Dammit, I forgot I’m still not medically cleared to drive.”

  Ava shrugged. “Let’s start driving and find a motel en route if I start to fall asleep.”

  “You sure?”

  Ava pulled a face. “All in a day’s work.”

  Dominic climbed in and set the GPS so neither of them had to think. She was heading out of town when he finally spoke.

  “Autopsy tests on Caroline Perry’s body found surfactants in her lungs.”

  “Surfactants?”

  “A constituent of bubble bath.”

  “Ah. Not something I generally associate with the Rappahannock River. So, she drowns in the tub and is then dumped in the river. Why? Any evidence connecting Perry to Elgin?”

  Dominic shook his head. “The burner cell that Alex Parker says was active around Fredericksburg was active around the church and towers nearest Galveston’s cabin. He’s digging into the corporation that owns the cabin and donated the land to the church. Task force is looking hard into Robin Elgin’s background and trying to tie him to Perry.”

  Ava opened the window to try to keep herself awake, but when she started openly yawning, she knew they needed to find a place to sleep soon.

  “Pull over,” Dominic told her.

  “What?”

  “Pull over. I’ve already been in one car wreck. Don’t want to be in another no matter what the doctors say. That’s an order, Kanas.”

  Ava pulled over.

  Dominic got out and walked around the car, opening her door for her to climb out. She swayed when she did so, hyperaware of the closeness of his body. The desire to touch him was almost overwhelming. Just a brief moment of human contact. But she wouldn’t be the one to cross the line, not while they were working.

  He surprised her by grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop before she could walk away. Then he sank his hands into the back of her hair and brought her to him for a long, slow kiss. When it was over, he rested his forehead against hers, as her heart pounded madly.

  “Glad you didn’t die today,” he said, swallowing hard.

  She reached up and squeezed his wrists. “I’m glad you didn’t die today, either. Did I thank you for saving my life?”

  “I’m the one who dragged you out there.”

  “I thought we were in this together?”

  “Yeah, but I’m the one he wanted dead.”

  “Not on my watch,” she said seriously.

  He laughed, and she felt the sound radiate through his fingers to her skull and down to the marrow of her bones.

  “Thanks for having my back,” he said softly before releasing her and stepping away.

  She climbed into the passenger side, did up her seatbelt, and closed her eyes. Emotions were spiraling out of control beneath the surface of her skin, and she didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want him to realize she was as weak and stupid as all the other women who fell at his feet.

  She cleared her throat and tipped her chair back. “Pull over when you get tired, Sheridan. And don’t go breaking the law or else I’ll probably get suspended again, and you’ll end up getting a commendation.” The words emerged prickly and sharp, but they were all the armor she had left, and she needed every scrap of protection she could muster.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Grief hot-wired Bernie’s rage. Robin had been a dear friend, an early disciple of Peter’s. He hadn’t participated in the murders or the torture. He’d just liked to watch. Women liked him and sometimes, Peter had used Robin as a lure for some wholesome little chickadee who didn’t stick her thumb out for a ride.

  The tire iron dragged through the dirt.

  If only Bernie had been with Peter when that slut had been wiggling her ass up and down Route 97.

  The pipe bomb had exploded, but the cop hadn’t been injured. Her husband had instead.

  Maimed.

  That’s what the news reports were saying. It had a delicious ring to it. Bernie smiled. See how the bitch dealt with getting her loved one fucking “maimed.”

  The tire iron was heavy. Unyielding. The noise it made as it dragged over the ground made Bernie think of an ancient sword being drawn over rock.

  Sandra Warren should be dead. Fernando Chavez should be dead. Dominic Sheridan had murdered Robin and found Peter’s grave and should be dead.

  Things were not going to plan.

  Bernie walked out of the forest and toward Sheridan’s house not stopping, instead increasing the pace and using the momentum to pick up the iron and swing it at Sheridan’s bedroom window. The glass shattered, the alarm went off. Bernie moved on to the next one.

  Every smash satisfied something dark and resentful inside. Three windows, four. Glass shards rained down, but the ski mask and gloves protected face and hands.

  Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. The alarm shrieked as the last window shattered.

  Bernie stood back and took a long gulp of air, knowing cops were on the way. The tire iron went into the pool, and Bernie backed away from the devastation.

  It wasn’t Sheridan’s blood, but it was a message. They weren’t done yet. It wasn’t over. He wasn’t fucking safe.

  The shadows in the woods cloaked the line of retreat. By the time the cops arrived, Bernie would be long gone.

 
Chapter Twenty-Six

  Dominic was heading east of Hagerstown when his eyes started to drift shut. It was enough to jolt him out of his complacency, and he pulled over in the next town and found a small hotel near the airport.

  Ava was fast asleep, her face less sharp angles, her expression unguarded. Her shields were down—something she did with him occasionally now, but less so with other people.

  It made him feel smug and like an ass all at the same time. After this was over, they’d have no excuse to be close to one another.

  He didn’t like the idea of her going back to her “Ava Kanas alone against the world” mentality, and yet there was no room in his life for a real relationship. Losing his mother at an early age had fucked him up.

  Van had always told him he was missing out, but he’d never really believed him until now…

  Ava said she didn’t want any ties either, he reminded himself. He didn’t want to be the loser hanging around in the hopes of receiving a few breadcrumbs of affection. He did not want to turn into that guy for this woman. He respected and valued her opinion too much.

  A valet approached the car, and he touched her arm to gently nudge her awake.

  “I need some sleep,” he said when she forced one eyelid up.

  “I can drive for a couple of hours if I have coffee.” Ava stretched out her body in the cramped confines of the car.

  Dominic tried to keep his gaze professional even as desire stirred. This might be the last night they got to be together. The idea made him feel sick with loss which was crazy. Maybe it was a side-effect to someone trying to kill them today. Something that would wear off as things returned to normal.

  “We both need some rest and some food. A few hours’ sleep won’t kill anyone.” At least, he hoped not. The task force was on the case now, tracking probable suspects.

  They grabbed their go-bags and went inside. He sat her on an ottoman near reception while he organized the rooms.

  “Come on.” He led the way with a hand on the small of her back. A hand that didn’t want to let go but did anyway. “Here you go. This is your room.”

  He opened a door for her and watched her brows hike in surprise and her mouth drop open in what he hoped was disappointment.

  She went inside and locked the door with a decisive click.

  He headed to the next room along the hallway and dumped his gear on the bed, turning his phone off and plugging it into a charger before knocking on the connecting door.

  She threw it open, and he swore he saw tears misting her eyes, but that must have been his imagination.

  “I didn’t want anyone questioning your reputation should someone check the hotel records,” he said quietly.

  She dragged him inside by the lapels, and he slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close. He was exhausted, but not so exhausted he wouldn’t take advantage of being with Ava while he could.

  Her fingers worked on his tie and buttons as he dragged her shirt out of her pants and filled his hands with sleek, warm skin.

  She ran her palms over his abs and across his chest, humming as she did so.

  She bit her lip, and the action made him as hard as rock, something she didn’t miss. Her hands found him and cupped him through his suit pants, and he was literally at her mercy. He dropped to his knees, undoing the buttons on her shirt first, revealing the edge of red lace, then he undid the button of her pants and slowly slid the zipper down.

  He looked up, and she was watching him with a look of wonder on her face. The scent of her killed him, but he made himself go slowly, treating her like she was the most precious and delicate thing he would ever touch.

  She might just be.

  Her pants slid down her thighs, and he tugged off her ankle boots and backup weapon when they stalled there. When she was standing in only her little, red panties and unbuttoned shirt, he urged her back until she hit the mattress. Her knees buckled, and he pressed forward until his mouth was against the warm silk.

  “Lie still,” he instructed.

  She did as she was told. Very un-Ava-like.

  He pushed her legs wider apart and ran his nose over the center of her, breathing her in, light touches that teased them both. He ran his tongue down the edge of the lace enjoying the way she moaned. The touch of her thigh against his cheek was so soft he shivered.

  He remembered what she’d said last night about liking the feel of his beard between her legs. He hadn’t shaved. He tugged the panties down impossibly long legs and put his mouth on her clit, scraping his scruff over the sensitive skin of her vulva, and she damn near shot off the bed.

  He reached up to tweak her nipples against the lace that encased them, working her with his mouth and his hands until she was panting and sobbing and grabbing his hair while opening her thighs as wide as they could go and pressing against his mouth.

  He was still fully dressed and so hard he hurt. He kept working his tongue over her, unable to satiate himself. Unable to get enough until she cried out and shuddered over him.

  He crawled up and laid his head against her stomach, closing his eyes. Her pulse jumped beneath her skin.

  “I hope you bought condoms,” she said breathlessly.

  “I did. Unfortunately, I’m too damn tired to do anything about it.”

  She laughed. “That’s okay. Lie back and let me take care of you.”

  He crawled onto the bed to collapse beside her. “That’s not how I operate.”

  She took off her weapon holster, shirt and then her bra. She was naked, and he lost the ability to speak.

  He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and tossed the box of condoms to her which she caught one-handed. Then he sat up to shrug out of his jacket and shoulder holster. He placed his weapon on the bedside table.

  She moved behind him, and he paused as she kissed his neck, across his shoulders, down his spine.

  She touched the side of his ribs, and he jumped. “Hurt?” she asked.

  “Not anymore.” Not when she touched him.

  She reached around and undid the button of his pants, carefully releasing his straining cock from behind the zipper.

  “Breathe,” she whispered in his ear. He could hear the smile in her voice.

  He closed his eyes as she touched him, but his blood ignited into blind lust, and he shucked his pants and boxers and reached for her, but she backed away.

  “Nah uh.” She wagged a finger at him. “My turn.”

  He eyed her narrowly. He wasn’t used to not being in control. Especially not in the bedroom. But he looked at her expectant expression and realized it didn’t matter. Ava wanted to call the shots for a change and although he couldn’t give her that at work, here, in the privacy of their hotel rooms, he could give her anything she wanted.

  Maybe it was her damned turn.

  He lay back with his head on the pillow and one arm stacked beneath his head. His other rested on her thigh because he wanted to touch her. To be connected in a way he’d never needed to be connected to anyone else before.

  She started slow, exploring his body with her hands, followed by her soft lips.

  He eased out the band that held up her hair. Her soft tresses fell across his skin like cool silk, tickling his flesh and making his pulse beat stronger. Exhaustion was banished as his cock throbbed and his lungs pumped, every inch of his body hungry and aroused.

  She kissed his nipples which felt good but didn’t drive him insane the way it did her. Looking at her drove him insane. Sliding his palm over the smoothness of her hip drove him insane. Her lips around his cock almost forced him out of his mind.

  Holy shit.

  She licked him as if he was her favorite flavor of ice cream, and his hand anchored deep in her hair. He had to stop himself from moving. Then she sucked him so deep he touched the back of her throat, and sweat broke from every pore. After a few strokes of her tongue he dragged her away, because this party was about to be over before it had even started.

  She laughed, knowing
exactly what she was doing to him.

  She grabbed the box of rubbers and peeled off the cellophane. She spilled square packages onto the bed and opened one, rolling the slippery latex over his hard, throbbing length. Her touch was light but even so, he had to grit his teeth and remind himself not to go off like a freaking teenage boy.

  She straddled his thighs and he watched, glad that the light from the adjoining room spilled through the open doorway brightly enough to reveal every detail.

  He slid his hands between her legs. Her pupils widened as he sank two fingers inside, driving her up onto her knees in shocked surprise. Her muscles clamped around him as he found her g-spot and made her cry out.

  Her post-orgasmic smile made his toes curl. She inched forward and took hold of him, rubbing the head of his cock against her clit until he was the one squirming.

  “Dear God, Ava, if I don’t get inside you soon…” he pleaded.

  She repositioned her body, and he slid all the way home, mind blanking from the pleasure that flooded his senses.

  She held herself still long enough for him to catch his breath, and then she started moving. Riding him slowly at first, finding a rhythm and a depth that pleased her. And he hung on for the ride, gripping her thighs like a man dangling off a cliff. If she didn’t have bruises tomorrow it would be a damned miracle. And still he couldn’t let go. Finally, her breath caught, and he drove harder, deeper, pushing for that climax. Wanting and needing nothing except to share that moment with this woman.

  It started like an explosion from his balls to his tip, a warm rush that filled him with exquisite joy. Every molecule in his body splitting apart and reconnecting with a click of hedonistic glee. Ava was feeling it too and when she cried out, it sounded as if she were in anguish, but he knew that pleasure-pain battle.

  With a sigh she collapsed on top of him, her skin damp with sweat, sticking to his body. He loved it.

  He gently rolled them over and ditched the condom. Then he pulled her close and held her tight as they fell asleep.