Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(5)

There was no one to be seen, but then snipers weren’t always obvious.

“You sure this was the place?” Dominic asked finally, catching his breath.

Kanas bristled. Clearly the woman did not like her word being questioned.

“I’m sure.”

That was good enough for Dominic. “We need to call in uniforms to help canvass this whole area.”

They walked to the southwest corner of the roof—the area with the best view of the graveyard.

Both kept their eyes peeled for footprints or other evidence but the gritty surface of the flat roof revealed no obvious evidence.

Sunlight gleamed off something brassy on the ground beside some litter.

Dominic photographed the bullet casing with his phone before popping it into a plastic evidence bag. The sooner they got that to the lab the better.

He dialed an agent on the ground. “Shooter’s in the wind. We need this building cleared and secured. The other rooftops in the area also need to be checked, roadblocks set up. Send an evidence response team to this roof.” He waved his arm in case they didn’t know his exact position. “How’s Calvin?”

The answer made him close his eyes and draw in an unsteady breath. He hung up without saying another word.

“He didn’t make it?” Kanas asked.

Dominic ran his hand over his face and shook his head. Calvin had a wife and two kids in high school.

“You were friends?” she asked.

He nodded again, the lump in his throat expanding until it was too big to talk around.

“I’m sorry.”

She was beautiful close up, her expression warm with concern, skin smooth and fine—except for the cut on her cheek with its ugly smear of blood. He raised his hand to check the wound, and she flinched away, arms coming up in instinctive defense.

They both froze.

His gaze narrowed and lifted to the scar that rode the delicate arch of her right eyebrow. She held herself with poised readiness. Not just the wariness of a law enforcement professional, but the hyperawareness of someone who’d been a victim.

“You’re bleeding.” He was careful to keep his tone neutral as something hot and virulent surged through his blood. He wanted to ask what had happened, but it wasn’t his business and this wasn’t the time.

She raised her hand to her cheek. “It’s just a scratch.”

He nodded, and they both pretended she hadn’t given away something important. They holstered their weapons, and he watched her out of the corner of his eye as she rested both hands on her hips, staring intently at the tiny figures in the graveyard a quarter of a mile away.

“I told you there was something hinky with Van’s death,” she said as they watched as ambulances arrived on scene.

He frowned. “This might not be connected.”

Her expression raked him with so much scorn he almost laughed. Almost. Because a few minutes ago someone had opened fire at his best friend’s funeral and shot dead a good man, endangering countless others.

Someone had murdered a fellow member of the FBI, and there was nothing even remotely funny about that.





Chapter Two





Peroxide seared the small cut on Ava’s cheek. The fumes made her eyes sting and her brain hurt. She’d come close to dying today but hadn’t had time to process that yet. She’d been too pumped up on adrenaline. Too focused on doing her job. The aftermath left her shaken, but she didn’t have time to fall apart—that could come later when she was alone in her apartment.

The paramedic paused before applying a butterfly bandage to her cheek.

“You okay?”

She nodded.

He smoothed the bandage over the ragged edges of the cut and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Looks clean. I doubt it’ll scar. You’ll be fine.”

Ava forced out a shaky laugh. “I hope so. Death by splinter. The FBI would kick me out for sure.”

“Where’d you get this one?” He indicated the small puckered scar on her right eyebrow. It was the second time today someone had noted that childhood injury.

“Kickboxing.” She touched it. The image of flying across her father’s office flashed through her mind. “Didn’t move fast enough.” At least that part was true.

“You were fast enough to dodge that bullet today.”

“Ha. Got lucky I guess.” Training was one thing, but not enough to outrun a bullet. Being shot at definitely wasn’t her favorite feeling in the world, but she hadn’t had time to be scared on a conscious level. She’d just wanted to make it stop. “Thanks for the patch job. Be sure to tell your colleagues how much we appreciate their hard work.”

The EMT smiled slightly as he finished cleaning her up.

It was a miracle Calvin Mortimer had been the only fatality here today. Others had been hurt in the chaos and rush to safety. Twisted ankles. Nasty gashes. One woman had suffered a suspected cardiac arrest.

Ava sympathized. Her own heart had pounded so hard she’d thought it was going to explode.

“It’s what we do.” The paramedic’s eyes held an amused sort of interest. He was good-looking in a dark, smoldering kind of way and reminded her of a boyfriend from her beat-cop days. Another time and she might have asked him out on a date, but she had other priorities.