Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(37)
She’d come, but she wasn’t sure why.
He was a Supervisory Special Agent and at this rate she’d be lucky to graduate probation.
It was an impressive-looking house. Huge and gorgeous with classic stonework on the lower level and an upper story clad with siding painted a warm gold. Pinky-red shutters flanked the multi-paned windows. It was a color combo that shouldn’t have worked but did, making it appear even more sophisticated to her design-challenged eye. The building was L-shaped with three separate garage doors on the left-hand side and white painted Doric columns supporting a covered entrance straight ahead. Cozy chairs were tucked onto the veranda. Elegant and original, fitting the man completely.
Her fingers gripped the wheel. She couldn’t get out of the car.
The DEA were pissed she’d steamrollered their case, but the criminals hadn’t given her much choice. Turned out they’d been distributing coke out of the back of the premises for months. Was that why Van had been there? Had he received some sort of tip off? Had somebody in that bar killed him because he’d found them out?
She didn’t know and was off the case even though it had been her arrest.
FBI had given the case back to the DEA. DEA had apparently held off raiding the place, wanting to nail the top dog. They suspected the Russian mob, but the kingpin was a slippery bastard who’d so far evaded capture. The guy she’d killed had been traveling on a Ukrainian passport, but he was probably just the link man. She shuddered as she remembered the moment she’d pulled the trigger. No amount of training could prepare you for killing another human being, but she wasn’t sorry. She had too much of a strong desire to live to be sorry.
She understood why the DEA was angry. She would have been furious if it were the other way around. If she’d known they had the bar under observation, she would never have gone near the joint. But she hadn’t. DEA might have surveillance footage, but the chances of them sharing it with her now she’d busted open their op? Better chance of smashing the glass ceiling and becoming the first female FBI Director.
A tap on the window had her jumping in her seat. She jerked around, and Dominic Sheridan stood beside her car, dressed down in a pair of gray sweats and a blue plaid shirt with the two top buttons left undone. He was barefoot.
He looked awful. Both eyes were black, and an ugly gash split the bridge of his nose. Right arm rested in a sling. Her heart gave an unsteady thump at the sight of him, probably because he’d startled her. He still looked too handsome for her peace of mind, but she’d always been attracted to bad boy types, so the battered features actually worked for her more than his clean-cut side did.
There was obviously something wrong with her. Not exactly breaking news.
He stared at her, waiting for her to get out of the car. She lifted her chin. What was she even doing here? Talking about the case, pursuing this investigation, was going to get her fired.
Large splats of rain started pinging off the windshield. He just stood there. The guy was gonna get soaked.
She cracked the door, and he opened it the rest of the way. Then he held out his good hand to assist her out of the car, but she didn’t take it. She sat there looking at him.
He didn’t seem mad at her reticence to touch him. He appeared patient and understanding.
Goddamn it.
She didn’t want his pity, and she wasn’t used to chivalry. Men were a mystery to her. She had a younger brother and nephew she adored, a father who’d died when she was only seven years old, and a series of boyfriends who’d never quite fit. Van had been the best man she’d ever known. And Van had told her over and over again that Dominic Sheridan was a great guy.
Still, trust wasn’t something she easily bestowed.
“I don’t blame you for being angry, Ava. It isn’t fair that you’ve been suspended and I haven’t. I will do everything in my power to make sure you are fully reinstated.”
With those words he broke the spell she was under.
She turned to grab her laptop case and purse from the passenger seat. Sheridan insisted on taking the items from her. She told herself not to be charmed. This was work, and she was more than capable of carrying her own belongings. She’d fought hard to be treated as an equal. He carried them anyway.
“Thanks for insisting on the blood work last night. They found GHB in my system. You saved my ass.” He held her gaze unwaveringly as she got out of the car. “And for taking care of Ranger. If anything had happened to him…I don’t know what I’d do.”
Rain dampened his short hair.
“You’d have done the same for me.” How she knew that she wasn’t sure, but she did.
“Were you hurt last night?” His low voice resonated through her bones.
Rain dotted her skin with pinpricks of sensation. She waited for the lecture on being reckless, but it didn’t come. She shook her head. “Feldman wasn’t hostile, and I handled the four guys in the bar.”
His eyes widened despite their bruised state. Obviously, he hadn’t known there were four men at the bar.
She should shut her mouth before she got herself into more trouble, but she’d never been good at backing down or backing off. She probably needed to figure that out before she got herself fired or killed.
“I made a mistake going back there alone,” she admitted.
“You did what any good agent would do when following a lead—but in the future if you do something like that, send the status update to someone who isn’t in the ICU.” His quick flash of eyebrows told her he’d received her text message about visiting Feldman.