Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(32)

“No.”

Damn. Dominic mentally ran through his day. He remembered going to Van’s house. Finding the footprints. Going for a drink with Ava Kanas at the bar Van had visited a week ago. He remembered arguing with Kanas, but couldn’t remember about what. Getting in his car… His eyes shot open. “Ranger. Is he okay?”

He tried to sit up, and pain exploded in pulsing waves along every nerve fiber. He fell back against the pillows in agony.

“Ranger is fine,” Savage assured him. “Agent Kanas took him to an emergency veterinary clinic to get him thoroughly checked. He’s still there I believe.”

“Kanas?” Dominic frowned in confusion. “She was at the crash scene? What was she doing there? Is she okay?”

“She said the two of you had met for a drink in a bar to talk about Van Stamos as you were both close to him.” Savage’s tone suggested he knew there was more to it than that. “On her way home, she heard on the scanner that a black Lexus had hit a telephone pole on 17. She swung around to make sure it wasn’t you. Unfortunately, it was. What do you remember?”

Dominic wasn’t sure. “Driving home and suddenly feeling really sleepy. Being barely able to keep my eyes open. I think I tried to pull over. Then nothing.” Maybe that was a blessing. Panic shot through him. “Did I hit anyone?”

“What did you have to drink?”

Drink? “Nothing.”

“Not even one beer?”

“Water.” He wanted water now as his throat was sore. The fact he’d woken up with a hangover that morning was why he hadn’t consumed any alcohol at the bar. He wasn’t a saint, but he did not drive while over the limit. He shook his head and tried to quench the resulting queasiness that swirled in his stomach.

“Drugs?”

What the fuck? “No, Quentin. You know me. I am not a drug user. Tell me no one else was hurt tonight. Tell me I didn’t hit anyone.” He didn’t think he could live with himself if he’d crashed into someone and injured them—killed them.

Savage pressed his lips together before replying. “You know I have to ask. No one else was involved in the accident, but the fire department had to cut you out of your vehicle. Your Lexus looks like someone took a giant can opener to it.”

Dominic didn’t care about the car. He could feel cuts on his legs and remembered the sound of a saw. Panic raced through him as he looked down and wiggled his toes. Relief surged inside when he saw them respond under the blankets.

His heart pounded.

A nurse entered the room. Flirted with Savage, took a few readings, adjusted his IV, and left again. She didn’t give them any answers.

“So, how bad am I?” Dominic asked.

“You were lucky.”

Dominic did not feel lucky.

“No broken bones, no internal injuries. A dislocated shoulder which they already re-set. Mild lacerations. Bruising—you are going to hurt like a sorry sonofabitch tomorrow.”

He hurt like a sorry sonofabitch today.

Savage frowned. “Like the nurse told you, doctors are running tests to rule out a brain aneurysm, but you seem okay to me and it strikes me there would be a lasting impact on your motor skills and cognitive abilities if you’d suffered that kind of trauma.”

Savage sat heavily in the single chair in the room. “Agent Kanas had another theory—one that she insisted the doctors run blood panels for immediately, so I hope to god you’re telling the truth about the alcohol and drugs.”

Dominic gritted his teeth. It seemed Ava Kanas had more faith in him than people he’d worked with for years. He was thirty-five years old and a respected federal employee. He wasn’t an asshole although those things weren’t necessarily mutually exclusive.

“Kanas thinks someone roofied your water at the bar.”

What?

“She said there was a fight?”

Dominic tried to clear the fog from the memory. “I maybe remember breaking up a bar fight.”

“Kanas thinks it might have been used as a distraction.”

Could she be right? Had he been drugged? It would explain the sudden onset and severity of the fatigue as well as the fact he was now awake with relatively minor injuries. He was thirsty. His voice was scratchy. He hurt like a bitch, but he was talking and his limbs more or less worked.

“Why would someone roofie my water?” Dominic asked.

“Why would someone roofie your water?”

“Don’t use that shit on me, Quentin. I’m too fucking tired and sore to deal with it right now.”

“Why were you really at that bar?”

Dominic closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I asked Agent Kanas to find out Van’s last movements.” Not technically true, but his career could weather a lot more storms than Ava’s could. “The bar was the last place he visited, that we know of, before he died, so we checked it out.”

“You’re investigating his death.” Savage’s tone was clipped.

“Double-checking some aspects. I also found footprints outside the window to his office and suggested to Ray Aldrich at the Fredericksburg RA that he get the Evidence Response Team out there again.”

“Why’d they miss it in the first place?” Savage asked.

They shouldn’t have. “Probably because it was such an obvious suicide, and no one wanted to list it as such. I don’t know,” Dominic said tiredly.