Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(83)

They looked at one another. “We need to compare any new DNA profiles to those of Peter Galveston’s supposed victims.”

They stared at one another with the dawning knowledge that they were onto something. This was a new direction for the investigation to follow.

The bullet whizzed so close to the top of her head she felt the air move. It slammed into the garage behind her as the noise of the shot cracked through the air.

Dominic pushed her to the ground, and they rolled through the dirt, scrambling to find cover.





Chapter Twenty-Four





“Keep down,” Dominic yelled. He ducked toward a slab of rock that stuck out on the left, grabbing Ava and taking her with him, trying to shelter her with his body.

The shot had come from the top of the ridge.

“See anyone?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“No. You?”

She shook her head.

They were pinned down in a gully, another bullet skimming overhead, proving the shooter was still there. “We can’t stay here.”

“Especially if there is more than one of them,” Ava agreed. “You go left, I’ll got right. Race you to the top?” Her eyes were alight, and there was a small smile on her lips.

“You look like you’re enjoying this, Kanas.”

Her grin got wider, but he realized it was forced. The way he smiled during a telephone call in order to influence the tone of his voice.

“No, but damned if I’ll show these bastards any fear.”

He grinned and kissed her quickly on the mouth. Another shot bounced off the stone above their heads. “Meet you at the top. Don’t get cocky.”

“I thought that was your department,” she teased, beautifully.

God. He hated the fact some asshole was shooting at her, shooting at them. He did not want her to die. But he couldn’t afford to think like that. She was a good agent. He didn’t intend to let her down by getting her killed.

“It will be, later,” he promised. “If we get out of this alive. Okay, together.” He counted down silently with his fingers. Three, two, one.

They burst in opposite directions, but the shooter must have anticipated the move. A series of shots came straight at Dominic, and they forced him to take cover behind a fat birch. He could hear Ava, deliberately making a lot of noise to try and draw the shooter’s attention.

He poked his head forward and back and was rewarded by a bullet in the wood a few inches from his face. They obviously viewed him as the greater threat, but then they hadn’t met Ava Kanas. Or—they wanted to finish what they’d started while they still had the chance. He checked his surroundings and grabbed his cell to call it in only to remember the lack of service.

He swore under his breath. Ava was a hundred yards away now. He did not want her facing this bastard alone. He eyed the distance to the next suitable tree trunk. If nothing else, he’d keep the shooter distracted.

He crouched low and bobbed and weaved to the next piece of cover. Bullets shredded the air around him. Shit. Cold, clammy sweat coated his temples. Dominic paused, panting, behind another tree. He was never gonna get up this goddamn mountain alive.

Then he remembered what he was good at.

“Hey,” he yelled. “We are FBI agents. We had a few questions for the owner of this cabin regarding Peter Galveston. We mean you no harm.”

The only answer was a bullet in the tree trunk, but that was okay. He was going to have to trust Ava to get the drop on this guy while he did whatever the hell was necessary to create a distraction.

“Put the gun down, and we can talk.”

Another shot. Maybe the guy was deaf. The issue was, even assuming the person firing the gun wasn’t on a psychotic break, it took time to influence someone’s behavior. You started with active listening, showed empathy to build rapport, and only then could you bend their will in line with yours. Bullets were hardly conducive to inducing empathy.

Another rule of negotiation was don’t lie to people, unless you were about to kill them. “We don’t want to hurt you. Tell me what’s going on? Why are you shooting at us? Put the gun down, and we can talk.”

He couldn’t hear Ava anymore. Shit. What if there was more than one of them? What if someone had a knife on her?

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly out. Negotiation could only get you so far. Dominic dodged to the next tree, but no shots were fired.

He darted up the hill off the path, using trees for cover, but still no more shots were fired. The bastard was either drawing him out for a clear shot. Or he had Ava and was waiting for him to arrive so he could kill her in front of him. Or he’d run.

The only sound now was that of his own breathing.

Where was she?

He crested the ridge, bracing for a bullet. Scanned the area. Ammunition casings were strewn in the grass. Then he heard the sounds of running and caught sight of a flash of a white shirt through the trees. Ava.

Dominic ran down the hill in the same direction but about two hundred feet parallel still along the top of the ridge. The desire to go to Ava was nearly overwhelming and had nothing to do with tactics or training. It was personal. He wanted to protect her. He wanted her safe. He fought the desire. He needed to trust she could do her job and although she might be a little reckless, she wasn’t stupid, and she didn’t have a death wish.