Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(2)

Dominic narrowed his eyes. He’d been introduced to Kanas at Van’s farewell party a couple of months ago. She was a rookie agent in her first office assignment (FOA) and looked young even for that. She’d worked with Van at the Fredericksburg Resident Agency in Virginia—Van’s final posting—and they appeared to have been close. His old friend and mentor had had only good things to say about the woman but then, even before his wife’s death, Van had always been a sucker for a pretty face. Dominic liked to form his own opinions and hadn’t had the chance nor reason to assess Kanas’s capabilities. He’d been busy catching up with Van and other old friends. Many were also here today. Nobody felt much like partying.

The younger agent hadn’t stuck around for glory days or good-old-boy stories. Dominic didn’t blame her.

She grabbed Aldrich’s arm. Her boss tried to pull away, but she wasn’t letting go. Dammit. They were about to cause a scene. Dominic excused himself from Van’s two grownup daughters and went to head off the brewing confrontation. It only took a few seconds to reach the fuming agents who were standing beside a gnarly, old oak at the edge of the crowd.

Kanas eyed him warily. Her brown hair was pulled into a pony so tight it tugged at the skin beside her eyes. Maybe that explained the furrows of pain etched on her brow, but he didn’t think so.

“Whatever the two of you are arguing about,” Dominic said quietly but firmly, “how about you rein it in until you’re back in the office.” He masked his ire but not his impatience.

Kanas’s chin lifted, and he was pinned by fierce, hazel eyes.

Dominic stared right back. He didn’t want Van’s funeral to be anything other than the respectful memorial the man deserved. More importantly, there were a lot of powerful people here today. Dominic didn’t want Kanas creating a spectacle of herself and possibly ruining her fledgling career. Van would have wanted Dominic to look out for her—the way Van had looked out for Dominic all those years ago.

He called upon all his experience as one of the FBI’s top negotiators to dampen his own grief and anger and contain the situation. “I can see you’re angry, which sucks. But whatever the issue is, this isn’t the place.” He used a soothing voice without any inflection that could be misinterpreted as antagonistic. It was mellow and understanding and had helped talk down prisoners and desperados in hostage situations around the world.

Kanas opened her parted lips to speak, but her boss beat her to it.

“She doesn’t think it was an accident,” Aldrich murmured softly and nodded toward the coffin.

Dominic’s gaze slid sideways to Kanas. The anger in her pretty eyes was replaced by a pain so raw it almost hurt to look at. She bit her lip and steadfastly examined her sensible black leather shoes.

“None of us believe it was an accident.” Dominic’s gaze shifted back to the polished wood of the casket, and a fresh wave of guilt crashed over him. “But the last thing the family needs is anyone questioning Van’s right to be buried beside his late wife.”

He shifted his feet, and the scent of wet grass and damp earth rose around him, thick and cloying. Combined with the setting, the scent spawned a sudden surge of memories that bombarded his brain. He shook them off.

Suicide pissed him off.

“You don’t understand.” Aldrich’s lips barely moved. “Ava thinks someone murdered Van. She wants the funeral stopped so the ME can conduct more tests.”

Dominic’s eyes widened in surprise.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Kanas hissed, her voice low and urgent. “He called me last Tuesday afternoon.” The day he died. “He was fine. We had plans to meet for coffee after work on Wednesday.”

Dominic urged her and Aldrich farther away from the rest of the mourners, out of earshot. Some people were starting to glare.

“I’m assuming there was an investigation into Van’s death?” Dominic stared the rookie in the eye. He stood only a few inches taller, which made her close to six feet.

“Evidence Response Team treated it like a crime scene, and there was an autopsy. No indication of foul play,” said Aldrich.

Kanas looked mutinous. Dominic touched her arm to try and calm her and felt her jolt through the thin material of her blazer.

“What makes you doubt the findings, Agent Kanas?” Because as sick as it might be, the thought of Van being murdered was a whole lot more appealing than the idea that his old friend had committed suicide. Guilt was a terrible thing. Catholic guilt was a bitch on wheels.

And maybe that was Kanas’s problem too. Guilt that she hadn’t saved the man. That she hadn’t realized he was depressed or suicidal.

“It doesn’t feel right.” She pressed her lips together and couldn’t hold his gaze.

He’d never tell anyone to discount their gut feelings, Van had taught him that, but now wasn’t the time to cast doubt based on nothing more substantial than wishful thinking.

He took in the devastation in her eyes and the slight trembling of her hands, and something else occurred to him. She was a beautiful woman and Van had technically been single…

Dominic cleared his throat. “Do you know something the rest of us don’t? Were the two of you…involved?”

Her chin snapped up. “I loved him, the same way you loved him and countless other people loved him. How many of them have you asked if they were sleeping with the guy?” She kept the volume down, but every word felt like a whiplash against his skin.