Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(49)
“Yeah,” Savage repeated and eyed him narrowly. “Lincoln Frazer managed to persuade him we need to look into the possible scenario that FBI agents from the NYFO have been deliberately targeted and their deaths staged to look like accidents. Now the director wants WFO to expand the task force into Tuesday’s shooting into a task force that investigates all these deaths to see if there’s a link. They are assigning bodyguards to anyone who worked on that squad during that time period, including you. Did you have anything to do with his?”
“I discussed a few things with Lincoln Frazer yesterday afternoon.”
“When you were supposed to be resting?” Savage had a reputation for no bullshit, brutal honesty. When negotiating, he was absolutely unflappable, but the rest of the time he was fiery and unpredictable. It kept everyone on their toes.
“I started to think back on how many agents who I’d worked with had died recently. I couldn’t rest until I spoke to someone who might recognize a pattern.”
“And who better than the head of BAU-4?” Savage said snidely.
BAU-4 was the behavioral analysis unit that dealt with crimes against adults.
“Can you think of anyone from the cases you worked on back then who might hate the FBI this much?” Savage asked.
The idea someone wanted him dead was unsettling. Sure, plenty of bad guys he’d put away had threatened him with violence when he’d arrested them, but they generally didn’t take it personally. They were the ones breaking the law and—as long as they weren’t narcissists—they understood they got what they deserved. “Anyone who hates the FBI that much is either still serving time or dead.”
He’d checked the most obvious, high-profile villains last night. Lincoln’s team were checking the rest while the task force got organized.
“They could have hired someone or possibly have a family member who felt wronged,” Savaged mused.
Dominic grunted. If he knew who it might be, he’d have said already.
“And here’s me thinking you were the charmer of the group,” Savage grumbled after a few moments.
“Apparently someone missed the memo.” And the killer wasn’t the only one. Dominic thought of Ava Kanas. She’d barely spoken to him since breakfast when he’d informed her they might have to attend his father’s engagement party in DC next week if this situation wasn’t resolved.
She’d asked what to wear, and he’d told her a dress, and she’d been pissed ever since. Showing up in body armor was bad form.
He didn’t think anyone would make an attempt on his life at this thing because security would be tight if POTUS was expected to attend. He and Kanas could use the trip to glean more information out of the case agents. Visit the WFO and the task force before the party. They didn’t have to stay long. A quick in and out was always the best way to attend these things, especially if his family were involved.
He snapped back to whatever Savage was saying. “They’ve had at least two opportunities to kill you, and yet they haven’t. Why?”
“Maybe I’m just lucky?” said Dominic evenly.
“Maybe they want to torture you before they kill you,” Savage suggested.
Dominic laughed. “There’s a cheery thought.”
Savage was right though. He’d been a potential target at the funeral, and GHB wasn’t the only thing someone could slip into a drink—assuming that was the same UNSUB and not the drug dealers. Whoever wanted to kill him had had several opportunities.
Dominic scrubbed his good hand over his face, trying to erase the image of Calvin’s bright red blood on his white cotton shirt. The image flashed into his mind, and he was horrified all over again. Furious. Devastated. He was so tired, the sling he was forced to wear was cumbersome and restrictive, and his whole body throbbed with low grade pain, but he wasn’t going to whine. Unlike Van and Calvin and the others, he was alive.
“Ballistics confirmed that the bullet casing found on the rooftop was the same caliber and composition and probable make as the one that killed Calvin Mortimer,” Savage said.
“That’s hardly helpful,” Dominic said derisively.
The Unit Chief shrugged. “It’s as much as we have to go on right now. Slug that came out of Mortimer was virtually destroyed, and they can’t get ballistic markings off it, nor any of the others.”
But if they found the shooter and the gun, they could match the brass casing, which might make it possible to get a conviction. The shooter had cleared up most of the brass which suggested the one left behind had been a mistake.
“Any update on eye witnesses or surveillance footage in the area of the apartment complex?” Dominic asked.
Savage shook his head. “I spoke to Mark Gross from WFO who said that they’d canvassed every residence in a square mile block, reviewed all the images taken in the area but there are no cameras that cover the front of that building. They are running plates from any vehicles caught on camera or registered in the local parking meters but no red flags so far.”
“Someone did their research beforehand.”
“We’re lucky he was a lousy shot.”
That was true, Dominic realized. The shooter had only hit Calvin, who’d presented a non-moving target. It suggested the shooter wasn’t military or particularly skilled. As soon as people had started to scatter the shooter hadn’t hit anyone. Closest they’d come was to nailing Ava with that shard of shattered wood.