Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(52)
Mallory felt the baby give a big push against her diaphragm with both feet. She rested her hand just beneath her rib and sucked in a breath. He-or-she better not twist around again. She didn’t want to deal with a breech birth. That was not in her plan.
“How come the BAU are involved?” the ME asked.
The interest in the gazes of the other men sharpened.
“We have a serial killer around here?” the ME asked.
As tempting as it was to tell him it was too early to tell, she didn’t want to bait the man.
“I don’t believe we have a sexual sadist on the loose, but we’re looking into some other incidents in other states that might be linked.”
“How is she involved?” A cop nodded at the body on the banks of the river.
Empathy for the dead woman washed over Mallory. She’d said goodbye to her sister when she’d finally buried her, but every corpse, every victim made the old feelings well up like blood in a fresh wound.
She met the ME’s gaze. “We’re not sure how she connects except she worked at the Mule & Pitcher. We wanted to question her about the events of Tuesday night.”
From the looks on the men’s faces they were all putting that together with the widely reported drug bust and the drugging of a Federal Agent that had led to a nasty car wreck. If Sheridan and Kanas were right about someone targeting FBI agents this whole thing would explode into a media sensation. Mal hoped they’d solve the puzzle before it became public knowledge. She didn’t want the killer feeding off that kind of buzz. They might never stop.
She handed over her card to the ME and to each of the local cops. “Please call me if you find out anything else.”
She turned and trudged back the way she’d come, reversing the process of logging out of the scene and removing her paper booties. The officer who’d escorted her helped her climb up the steeper sections of the bank. If she got stuck, she’d need a mechanical winch to get her out.
She left him at the top of the bank, thanked him and got into her Bucar which was currently a RAV4. Called Frazer. “Waitress is dead. I’m meeting the police sketch artist at Karl Feldman’s in forty minutes.”
“Either she killed herself because she drugged Dominic and knew she was going to go to prison, or someone killed her so she couldn’t reveal anything,” said Frazer.
“Dead women tell no tales,” Mallory agreed.
“And revenge is a dish best served cold.” Frazer was grimly amused. “We need to figure this out before the UNSUB kills again.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ava boarded a C-17 military transport with a bunch of pumped up macho-types from HRT and enough equipment to start a war or, hopefully, end a siege. She hated flying but had decided not to mention the fact to Sheridan in case he decided to leave her behind.
According to the short briefing they’d been given, two rival gangs had started a fight in a cafeteria in a medium security Federal Correctional Institute. Another group of three inmates had taken advantage of the guards’ distraction to barricade themselves inside the prison kitchen with four hostages, one of whom happened to be the warden.
A pulse of excitement ran through the assembled agents shimmering like a heat haze. She could only imagine the sort of training these men undertook and how good it must feel to put that training into action.
Her equipment was her creds, her Glock-22, her backup, a large go-bag and a laptop. She followed Dominic and strapped into an uncomfortable-looking seat beside him. He hadn’t said much to her on the drive up.
Everyone was tense, except the female negotiator who Ava had handed Dominic’s dog off to yesterday morning. That seemed like a million years ago. Ranger was now staying with a neighbor of Dominic’s who kept horses. The third negotiator accompanying them, Eban Winters, was quiet and laid back. In general, the negotiators seemed a lot more chilled than their tactical counterparts, except for the head of the unit. Quentin Savage was pretty intense, like an angry John Wick looking for revenge over his dead puppy.
A massive guy with shoulders so broad they took up more than the space provided sat next to her. He looked past her and gave Dominic a nod, his gaze traveling over her speculatively on their way back to front and center.
“I recognize you from somewhere.” The guy spoke out of the side of his mouth.
Ava shrugged. “I have one of those faces.”
The guy shook his head slowly. “That’s not it.”
Ava was aware of Dominic stiffening on her other side.
“You a negotiator?” he asked.
She felt like she was in a spaghetti western. CNU had decided to call her a trainee negotiator to mask the threat to Dominic’s life and keep a lid on news of this possible serial killer hunting Feds. They did not want to give anyone ideas. “That’s right.”
The man grunted and turned his attention to Charlotte Blood who was doing a meet and greet with most of the HRT team.
Ava turned to face Dominic and found him looking at her from just inches away. The pilot started the engines and even though Ava opened her mouth to say something, the noise from the engines meant it was impossible to be heard. She closed her mouth and couldn’t help notice the way Dominic’s gaze settled on her lips briefly before moving away. Maybe she wasn’t imagining the attraction that made her aware of every time he moved, every time he spoke. She remembered the feeling from high school along with the accompanying acute embarrassment when someone figured it out.