Calculated Collision

by C. A. Szarek

  Clint’s eyes widened and his large hand clamped down on her forearm. She would have pulled away, but her vision wavered, her legs wobbled.

  “Dawson?”

  Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. She fought the darkness swamping her vision.

  “Holy shit, you’re hit!”

  Blackness swallowed her whole.

  Chapter Two

  “I shouldn’t even be here, but I needed to talk to you.” Angelo looked around the fancy hotel lounge as if nothing was wrong, but Nate didn’t miss his old friend’s damp forehead or how his dark eyes darted around the place.

  “What’s wrong, ‘Lo?”

  The old college nickname made one corner of his friend’s mouth lift, but Angelo didn’t relax an inch. Broad shoulders tight, he was hunched on the bar stool.

  “I’m in trouble, Nate.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Angelo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He reclined on the barstool, but the action was forced. His long legs were tense, and he tapped one foot on the carpeted floor, the other foot perched on the bottom rung of the stool and shaking.

  “That bad, huh?” Nate asked, sucking in a breath when his buddy remained silent. Seeing the confident—some would say egotistical—high-powered attorney rattled was enough to make Nate shake in his cowboy boots.

  Angelo Fiato had done very well for himself after Colombia Law. Starting off as a prosecutor for the District Attorney’s office in New York City, he’d rarely lost a case. Then Angelo had decided there was more money in defence, and had crossed to the dark side, as their buddies teased.

  He’d done even better on his own. His firm was huge now—partners, junior partners and associate attorneys galore. He’d been after Nate to leave the county DA’s office in Dallas for years. Even offered him partner at his firm. When Nate had refused repeatedly, Angelo had accused him of being too idealistic.

  ‘Lo nodded, patting his forehead with a silk handkerchief before shoving it back inside his jacket. His hand shook. “You were right, my friend.”

  “About?” Nate arched a brow.

  “I shoulda stayed with the DA’s office.”

  Nate paused as the wheels turned in his head. “You pissed off a client?”

  “You could say that. I agreed to assist the FBI. In a certain matter. Word got back to him, and… Well, let’s just say, taking a risk to see you is putting it mildly.”

  “Tax fraud?”

  Angelo shook his head. “Much bigger than that.”

  Nate shoved his hand through his fair locks. “What can I do to help?”

  A bitter laugh greeted his ears when he met his friend’s eyes again. “No one can help me now. I’m fucked.”

  “Then why—”

  Angelo’s olive skin drained of colour and his expression screamed horror. His eyes were glued to something over Nate’s right shoulder, but a woman’s shriek and a boom that made his ears ring sounded before he could react.

  Two more shots reverberated before Nate processed what was happening. A starburst of dark red was born on Angelo’s dress shirt, spreading fast. His friend grabbed at his chest and toppled off the barstool.

  Nate whirled around, but the gunman was already retreating at top speed, a blur of dark clothing.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  People scattered, several with cell phones already pinned to their ears. “I’m calling 9-1-1,” a woman shouted.

  “Thank you,” Nate called. After saying a few words that rarely exited his mouth, he knelt next to his college roommate and long-time friend. “Angelo! ‘Lo, answer me.”

  He shook his shoulder, but his friend’s eyes were rolled to the back of his head, whites showing, his arms slack at his sides. Blood dominated his chest. The only part of his shirt still white was his collar. “Angelo!”

  This time he received a grunt, and hazy dark eyes struggled to focus on his face. Angelo lifted his arm, and Nate grabbed his hand, squeezing.

  “C’mon, buddy, stay with me. Medics are on the way.”

  “N-Nate.”

  “Shhh, don’t talk. Just hold on. You’re gonna be fine.” He swallowed against the lump in his throat.

  Lying through your teeth.

  His friend was dying before his eyes. The knees of Nate’s jeans were already soaked with Angelo’s blood. The pool was growing.

  “L-l-listen… Pl-please.”

  “I’m listening.” Nate bent low, his ear right over Angelo’s mouth.

  “Caselli.”

  The word was clear and rocked him to his soul.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  * * * *

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Nice to see you too, partner.” Lee grinned at Clint, setting his coffee on the desk in front of him, since he’d neglected to take it from her hand. She’d got into the habit of grabbing coffee for them both on the way into the office. Usually the guy was grateful.

  “Go. Home. Dawson.”

  “No. Way. Downs.” Three days off had been enough. She’d been going stir crazy alone at home, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

  Lee sat at her desk after a healthy sip of hazelnut cappuccino, ignoring the burn in her side. She pressed the power button and waited for her computer to boot up. Also ignored the imposing figure of her large partner behind her, even though she could feel the irritation coming off him.

  “What do we have going on this morning?” She kept her tone pleasant, as normal as she could manage. When a good minute had passed and he didn’t answer, Lee spared him a glance over her shoulder.

  His pale blue gaze scorched, and Clint’s mouth was a hard line. He tilted his head to one side, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

  She smirked. “You might be a foot taller than me, and twice what I weigh, and you might intimidate the shit out of most people, but I am not most people, Clint Downs.”

  One of his eyebrows shot up. “How are you feeling?”

  Lee swivelled her chair around. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “Fine. You?”

  She couldn’t quite decipher his sigh.

  He shook his head. “You’re fixin’ to kill me, as you would say.”

  “Wow that sounds wrong when you say it. Please don’t. Ever again.” Lee laughed and her partner’s frame loosened a little. “Oh my God, are you smiling? Is that what passes as a smile for you, partner?”

  “Oh leave off, Dawson. Can I say anything to get you to go home?”

  Lee pretended to think about it. “Nope. I need to work.”

  “There are eleven other people in charge of the same thing you are. We’re not idiots, you know.”

  “Did I say you, or any of the others, were? No. My need to work is on me. Nothing to do with them.”

  He stared until she had to force herself to sit still.

  Evan Roberts peeked his head into the office with a knock on the doorframe. “Oh, Dawson, you’re here.”

  “You bet.”

  “There’s a Sergeant Kowalski from NYPD on the phone for you.”

  “Okay, transfer him to my line. Thanks.” Lee sucked in a breath when the phone rang. Please, let it be work-related. She’d had a fling with Ryan Kowalski over a year before—not long after moving to New York City. He’d wanted more than she could give.

  Lee had shot him down repeatedly, until he’d finally got the message and stopped calling.

  He’d better not be up for round two, because I’m so not.

  Nate Crane’s smiling face flashed into her mind. She frowned and gripped the receiver tighter. “Dawson.”

  “Hey, Lee. How’re ya?”

  Her heart sank. Be polite. “Fine. You?”

  “Pretty good. I tried to call your cell…”

  I wouldn’t have answered your call anyway. “Oh? Sorry, it’s on silent, I guess.” She glanced at the screen of her iPhone. Yup, two missed calls.

  “No worries. Something’s come up and I thought you’d want to b
e in the loop. I know you’re still on the Caselli case. Are you familiar with an attorney named Angelo Fiato?”

  Work stuff. Thank God. “Yeah. Hold on, my partner’s here.” She hit the speaker button and set the phone in its cradle.

  “All right. I’ll cut to the chase. I’m down at The Seasons, the big five-star downtown. Waiting for homicide.”

  Lee exchanged a glance with Downs.

  “Standing over the body of Angelo Fiato.”

  “Shit. Witnesses?” Clint asked.

  “Yes,” Kowalski said.

  “What happened?” Lee asked.

  “Gunned down inside the bar, lobby level. One shooter, in and out. No one else was harmed. Just popped him. One to the chest did him in. He didn’t have a chance. We have word out for the guys on the streets to be on the lookout, but you know how these things go. It was professional. They know how to disappear.”

  “Anybody get a good look?” Clint asked.

  “One or two people,” Kowalski said. “We’re talking to them. Homicide will want to as well, and I know you will. Everyone’s been told they need to stay put.”

  “Good. Thanks for the heads up. We’ll be right there.” Lee ended the call and met her partner’s eyes.

  “So much for being upstate.” Downs shook his head.

  “Poor bastard.”

  Chapter Three

  Sergeant Ryan Kowalski was still tall, broad and hot. When their eyes met, Lee could see he was just as interested in her as before. She bit back a sigh and ignored his obvious perusal.

  Nope. Not even tempted. Not even one little tingle when his blue eyes travelled her frame. Not like when Nate looked at her.

  Shit. She needed to get the Texas Assistant District Attorney out of her head. Stat. But sixteen hundred miles and six months since he’d touched her hadn’t done the trick so far. Lee hadn’t been with anyone since Nate, either. She hadn’t wanted another man.

  Her partner stepped up, and she introduced the two men. Clint stayed close, as if he hadn’t missed Kowalski’s stare. She should thank him, but she didn’t need his protection.

  “Nice to see you again, Agent Dawson.”

  Lee snorted at his formality, but accepted the sergeant’s handshake. “What’s changed since we talked?”

  “Not much. Detective Reed is running things. Told him I gave you a call. He’s talking to Fiato’s friend. The guy saw him go down, but didn’t get a good look at the shooter. They’re over there.” Kowalski gestured, and Lee glanced over her shoulder.

  A tall blond man had his back to her as he talked to an older, dark-haired guy with his head bent. The detective wrote in a little notebook as he listened, nodding from time to time.

  Lee’s heart plummeted to her stomach. The broad shoulders and tapered waist were familiar. As was the nice ass filling out tight, dark jeans. Cowboy boots visible from a mile away.

  No. Can’t be.

  There were tons of guys with fair hair and a lean, muscular build. Over eight million people in New York City, right?

  “Dawson? You okay?” Clint rested his hand on her forearm and squeezed. “You’ve gone pale. Is your side bothering you?”

  “Her side?” Kowalski asked, brow drawn tight.

  “Never mind,” Lee barked. She ignored her former lover and her partner and marched to the two men.

  “—had on dark clothing. Sorry I didn’t get a better look. Someone else saw him. The lady that dialled 9-1-1, I’m pretty sure.”

  The soft Texas twang made her heart stop and her feet pause, but she pushed forward. How dare he be in New York?

  Nate Crane’s gorgeous hazel eyes widened when he caught sight of her.

  She couldn’t look at him. Lee ignored her pulse thundering in her ears and made herself focus on the dark-haired detective. “Special Agent Lee Dawson, FBI.” She thrust her hand out and he shook it.

  “Detective Hank Reed.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Lee,” her attorney whispered. Her name on his lips was breathless.

  A tremor shot down her spine. She clenched her jaw and looked him in the eye. “Counsellor.”

  God, he looked the same. Sinfully handsome. High cheekbones. Gold, green and light brown all wrapped together to make up the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes she’d ever seen. His nose was regal, his clean-shaven fair skin giving him a youthful air.

  Way hotter than Kowalski.

  His body held the defined lean muscle of the swimmer he’d been in high school and college, before he’d pursued a career in the law. Nate Crane was an idealist. He was logical, moral and a hell of a prosecutor.

  The best lover she’d ever had.

  Memories of them entwined danced into her head and Lee’s body warmed. Heat crept into her cheeks.

  Do. Not. Go there. Texas is over and done with. No going back now.

  “You two know each other?” the detective asked.

  Lee cleared her throat. “Yes. He prosecuted a case I was involved in down in Texas.”

  Nate’s eyes burned her face. Is that all? they demanded.

  “Ah. Something to do with this here?” Reed asked, gesturing to the scene with his pen.

  The Medical Examiner’s team had arrived and were already hovering over the body with crime scene techs.

  “Maybe.” Lee locked her gaze on the detective. Refused to look back at Nate. Her stomach jumped.

  “Well, you won’t hurt my feelings if the FBI is going to take over here,” Detective Reed said.

  “That’s the plan. Thanks for your cooperation, in advance.”

  “I’ll finish gathering statements, grab my partner and get you my initial report by the end of the week.”

  “Great, thank you.” Lee handed the detective her business card and he nodded before shoving it in his pocket and giving her one of his.

  “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

  Please don’t.

  The detective slipped away, meeting with Clint, who was talking to a petite blonde woman.

  “She called 9-1-1.”

  Nate’s voice made her jump. Lee swallowed hard and made herself look at him. “My partner will get her statement.” Duh. What an idiotic thing to say. She shifted on her feet. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

  “You look good.” He ignored her question and moved closer.

  Lee tried not to fidget. She could feel the heat coming off his body. Wanted him even closer. “Let’s just keep this business.”

  “Let’s not.” Nate’s hazel gaze bored into her. “I didn’t plan on seeing you like this, but I did plan on seeing you.”

  “You’re a witness now, in my case. Your friend had ties to Caselli, did you know that?”

  “He told me.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I will. But let’s be clear about one thing, Selena Dawson.”

  “Let’s not,” she repeated, but Nate didn’t stop talking.

  “Before you left Texas, I told you we weren’t done. This is me showing you.”

  Her gorgeous dark brown eyes widened, but she schooled her expression fast. Squared her shoulders. Lee’s locked jaw dared him as they faced off. But his little FBI agent wasn’t going to win this one.

  Nate wasn’t going anywhere. He bit back a smirk.

  Fate was on his side today, despite the loss of one of his best friends. He’d mourn Angelo for a long time. He was determined to do what he could to help get the attorney’s killer, whether Lee wanted his help or not. She couldn’t deny he was a valuable resource. He was familiar with Angelo Fiato and Tony Caselli.

  Working with Lee—he’d never be just her witness—was going to be what they both needed.

  His heart skipped into overdrive as their gazes collided again. She crossed her arms over her generous breasts and Nate couldn’t get the image of her bare in his bed out of his mind. Nothing had changed for him over the past six months. He wanted her as much as he ever had. Had planned to see her again.

  “I’m not going
into this with you again.” Lee’s eyes narrowed. “Especially here. This is my crime scene. My case.”

  He’d show her how wrong she was.

  Nate itched to touch her. Pull her to him and take her mouth. His tongue tingled with the memory of her taste. He sucked in a breath and chided himself to calm down. “I’ll never be just your case, Selena Dawson.”

  She dropped her arms to her sides. “Nate.” When her eyes clouded with some unnamed emotion, his stomach fluttered. But it was gone so fast he could’ve imagined it.

  “Lee.”

  Lee pursed her lips and shook her head. “Tell me what happened.”

  Right.

  Nate needed to focus on Angelo, anyway. He ran his hand through his hair and replayed the event in his mind. “It was quick. I only saw the guy from the back. Heard the shots and the screams and saw ‘Lo fall.” Pain burned his throat as it hit him.

  The click of a gurney being raised and locked into place caught Nate’s attention. His friend had been placed in a black bag, but the pool of blood still saturated the carpet.

  He couldn’t look away, and his gut clenched. “I guess, with everything, it’s only just sunk in for me.”

  Lee put her hand on his forearm and squeezed, taking a step closer. “I’m sorry you lost your friend.”

  Nate’s breath caught for a different reason, and he screamed at himself to calm down. Idiot, horrible friend. Think of Angelo, not Lee. “Thanks. We were roommates, and frat brothers, back in college.”

  Lee nodded, her gaze concerned, but expression serious. “What do you know about him?”

  “Cut to the chase. You mean what do I know about Angelo and Caselli?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nothing until today.” Nate frowned and shook his head. “His firm got huge fast.”

  “With dirty money.”

  “Hey, he was a good lawyer.”

  Her brow drew tight. “Like he didn’t know what Caselli was up to? A good lawyer wouldn’t deal with scum like that.”

  “Are all your friends perfect?” He watched as more emotions flickered across her face, but she said nothing.