Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(108)

Looney-fucking-tune. “Peter Galveston? That name?”

A flash of lavender appeared behind all the green, and he held his breath as two people pushed their way through the bushes towards him. Ava—alive, thank god—and behind her, Suzanna Bernier.

The fact Ava was still breathing was a gut punch of relief. The gun pointed at her head was less positive, as was the way her left arm hung limply at her side, crimson blood soaking her pretty dress.

The usual techniques for negotiation might not work here. There wasn’t the time needed to build the rapport that might eventually get Suzanna to stop killing the woman he’d stupidly gone and fallen in love with. And if Suzanna found out how much he cared for Ava, she’d kill her all the sooner.

But even as his heart lurched in anger at the realization Suzanna had hurt Ava, his head told him to try. To slow it down. To diffuse the drama. To give time, time. To find out the ‘why’ behind her actions. Knowledge was power. The SWAT team were on the way and hopefully Alex Parker had taken Mallory to safety.

“You loved him,” he said. “You must have been devastated when you lost him.”

She made a sound like an animal being snared. “I didn’t lose him. You murdered him!” She shoved Ava ahead of her. Blood dripped from her hand. Too much blood.

If he’d stood up to the director earlier this wouldn’t have happened.

His mouth went dry when he realized that if they survived this and he wanted to win Ava’s heart he was going to have to open himself up, to prove himself to her over and over again. Ava’s faith was too fragile. She’d been tested too often. He was going to have to use every ounce of the skills he’d learned over the years to gain her trust and after that, her love. He just needed a chance.

“How can I help you, Suzanna?” These were some of the most powerful words to use with someone in distress.

“How about you beg like a dog for her life and then I’ll kill her anyway?” Suzanna jeered.

Things didn’t always go by the book with psychopaths.

“Her son died,” Ava said quietly.

Suzanna jerked Ava’s head back with a fistful of hair. Ava grimaced in pain. “Shut up.”

“Tell me about your son.” Open-ended questions got people talking but if it was a sensitive subject, and obviously the loss of a child was always a sensitive subject, it could backfire.

Where the hell was SWAT?

“What do you care about my son?” The words were choked and bitter.

He tilted his head to one side and threw her an eyebrow flash, telling her to trust him with his body language. “You told me your son was with his father…” And then he realized this child was the skeleton they’d found buried with Galveston.

“What was he like?”

Suzanna’s throat moved as she swallowed. “He was smart and loved animals. He had dark hair like his father. My eyes.” She trailed off into memories.

Dominic let the silence linger for as long as he dared. He didn’t want her remembering Ava. “What happened?”

Suzanna looked downcast, but she kept a tight hold on Ava’s hair and the gun did not waver. “He was born with Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome. He died of a heart attack when he was eight while playing hide-and-seek with his friends.”

“Losing a child must be incredibly painful. I am so very sorry for your loss.” The child’s death had been the trigger for the FBI murders.

“Did Peter know about the baby?” he asked. Ava was watching him with bright eyes. Chin still tipped high in defiance despite the blood seeping from her hand. He wanted to send her a message, but Suzanna would see and react to it.

“Yes. Of course, he knew. He was thrilled with the idea of becoming a father.”

Dominic bet he was. Another innocent to assert control over. But in a negotiation, you had to pack away judgment and your own ego and concentrate on the prize. The prize this time was getting Suzanna to release Ava without further harm.

“I’m sure he was a great kid.” Dominic stretched the tightness out of his neck. Sweat slid down the side of his face, and he wiped it on the sleeve of his jacket. He was negotiating for Ava’s life, and the stakes had never been higher. “So, after your son died you were suffering from so much grief you decided to go after the people you held responsible for killing the man you loved. You feel like you hate us all for shooting Peter. For stealing the father of your child. You blame us for being alone.”

The pain in Suzanna’s silence was palpable. He let the moment drag out.

“That’s right,” Suzanna said finally in a small voice.

This was the breakthrough moment he needed, but usually there was a time gap while the psychology of that pronouncement went to work on the abductor’s psyche. The woman had murdered an unknown number of FBI agents including his mentor and had maimed an innocent bystander. Now Ava’s blood-soaked form stood before him, and he had to push concern for her out of his brain so he could do his job.

If anything happened to Ava, life as he knew it would be over. He forced the newly discovered feelings of love aside. Let a cold and deadly calm settle over him.

“You must have been hurt very badly when your son died, Suzanna. You suffered great pain. You exacted revenge upon the FBI because you felt the FBI was responsible for that pain. It’s over now. Time to stop suffering and let the world see what you did.”