Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(16)



It made him feel ashamed. It also meant he wanted to help Ava Kanas find answers to any loose ends, to gain closure.

They strode through the kitchen where Van had spent so much time drinking coffee and reading the newspapers. Van had claimed he got more in-depth information scouring newsprint headlines than reading online articles. Dominic rarely had time to read the papers anymore, which was another reminder that he shouldn’t even be here. He should be finalizing the timetable for the negotiator courses CNU ran four times a year and checking in with various sieges throughout the country and overseas. But someone had taken a shot at them yesterday and, like Agent Kanas, he couldn’t ignore the possibility it was somehow related to Van’s death. The task force was working all angles, but he’d known this man intimately and so had Kanas. If there was truly something “hinky” about Van’s demise, they’d figure it out faster than anyone else.

They stood for a moment on the back porch inhaling lungfuls of clean air trying to eliminate the pervasive odor of death that clung stubbornly to anything it came into contact with. This was so much worse than being at some random crime scene. This was someone he’d loved. Someone they’d both loved and respected.

No way should Van’s family have to deal with that. He’d talk to the company that cleaned his home and see if they could recommend a professional cleaning service. He wouldn’t ask permission to get this place sanitized. It’s what Van would want.

Van’s house stood at the end of a row, but there were properties to the front and the rear. “Which neighbor?” he asked gruffly.

Ava met his gaze, and he caught a glimpse of the devastation he’d been feeling all week reflected in her hazel eyes. She jerked her chin to their right. “Couple with the poodle next door.”

Dominic had first met them when Jessica had become sick. More than neighbors. Friends. Reluctantly he led the way.

He checked his watch. His boss had gone up to HQ today to discuss budget needs, and he’d be there again tomorrow. Savage was staying in Dominic’s DC apartment. It was nicer than a hotel and Dominic liked it to be occupied whenever possible by people he trusted.

It was the same thing every year, negotiators desperately begging for more funding while HRT and SWAT seemed to just breathe a request, and it was miraculously filled.

It was true that sometimes talk couldn’t beat bullets. Sometimes the hostage-taker was determined to kill their captives. Sometimes they were narcissistic assholes who couldn’t be reasoned with. But often negotiators could work magic simply by slowing things down and listening.

Waco was arguably the Bureau’s biggest failure and had sullied the organization’s reputation for more than a decade. If the negotiators had been left to do things their way, the slow trickle of people leaving the compound might have become a rush and eventually David Koresh could conceivably have been left with no one to lead but his own inflated ego. More than eighty people might not have died in the conflagration. Kids might have survived into adulthood.

And maybe that was wishful thinking on the negotiators’ part.

Dominic knew some of the agents involved were still haunted by what had happened on that day in April so long ago, by the mistakes the FBI had made. None of them wanted a repeat of that fiasco.

He held the gate for Agent Kanas. She looked like a leggy teen today, dressed down in tight jeans and a soft t-shirt that outlined her breasts in a way that warned him to keep his gaze north. She walked ahead and his attention drifted to her ass. He mentally kicked himself and pinned his eyes back to her long hair that was once again tied up in a messy bun.

What was he thinking? He did not get involved with other agents. Not even for steamy one-nighters. The potential for complications was too great, and he was careful to keep his job and his sex life in strictly different lanes.

Not that Kanas was offering.

At the neighbor’s back gate, she stopped and put her hands on her hips. “You want me to take the lead?”

The neighbors’ house was a large, new bungalow with small windows. “It might be better for your career if I do it.”

She shrugged one shoulder. He noticed a bruise on her forearm and wondered how she got it—sparring? Arresting a suspect? Rough sex?

She flashed him a quick grin, and it transformed her face. It was the first time he’d really noticed her smile, and it softened her features and made her eyes glow with mischief. “If anyone asks, I’ll say you ordered me to do it.”

He huffed out a laugh. He’d seen how well she took orders when she’d been interacting with her boss. “Let’s hope no one asks.”

He didn’t mind taking responsibility for today’s “investigation,” but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He’d survive the flak better than she would if they were discovered. As long as they kept their questioning discreet, they should be fine.

She knocked firmly on the door, and they both stood to one side of the doorframe, even though he wasn’t expecting trouble.

A dog barked and scratched at the other side of the door.

“Who is it?” The voice was muffled behind the thick wood.

Dominic nodded to Ava.

“This is FBI Agent Ava Kanas. I’m here with Supervisory Special Agent Sheridan, Mr. Gabany. We were hoping to talk to you about Van.”

Dominic wasn’t surprised Ava remembered the neighbor’s name. Van didn’t waste his time with new agents unless he thought they had potential and that was regardless of whether or not they had pretty faces. Something about the way Kanas had conducted herself since the shooting hinted at a keen intelligence and innate competence. Sure, she was pushy and lacked tact, but there was an honesty and integrity about her that would have appealed to his old friend.

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