Her lips parted and her chest rose and fell rapidly as she clearly tried to hold on to her temper.
“There are rules and procedures for this. We have no solid evidence. We have no witnesses. All we have is a man who claims he adjusted the clothing of what is most likely a suicide victim.” He reined in the temper that was starting to fray. Ironic that he found it easier to deal with bank robbers and terrorists than Ava Kanas. “I’ll check the files and see what evidence was collected at the scene and ask the ME what samples they took during the postmortem.” The funeral had been postponed but, given the embalming process, Dominic couldn’t be sure what evidence might still be present. At least he was in a position where he could get them to check without losing his job.
She swallowed tightly. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Just do your job until we have more answers.” He pulled his tie from his pocket and slid it along his collar.
Her eyes followed every movement of his fingers. “I’m not letting this drop just because my ‘superiors’ are telling me to. That’s not what Van taught me about conducting investigations. Question everything. Don’t let anyone tell you to ignore your gut. Trust your instincts.”
God, she was infuriating. “You’re deliberately missing the point. I’m not letting you fuck up your career because you’re torn up with grief.”
“You’re not letting me?” A muscle flexed in her jaw.
“That’s right, Ava.” He got in her face. It would have been a hundred times easier to stare her down if he hadn’t wanted to crush her against him and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. Fuck. “I’m not letting you. That’s what Van taught me—how not to fuck up a career.”
She stilled at his vehemence. After a long beat of silence, she finally said, “Fine.” But it sounded more like “fuck you.”
She brushed past him, her stride long and confident and pissed. “Let me know if I can do anything else to assist you, sir.”
He shook his head. God she was stubborn, but pissing off her superiors was not a great way of keeping her position. No way in hell would Ava Kanas let this go. The question was, how far would he be willing to go to protect her?
Chapter Six
An hour later, the sun was slanting through the blinds at an oblique angle that seemed determined to burn out her retinas, although that wasn’t what was bothering Ava.
She was still so mad with Dominic Sheridan that even writing her FD 302 for the incident with Jimmy Taylor that morning hadn’t cooled her off. Jimmy was safely back in custody and Maria, the girlfriend, was at the hospital suffering from a concussion after hitting her head on the dashboard. They were saving her a place in jail.
Ava spied Ray Aldrich coming into the office where she had a cubicle along with the other agents in their little Resident Agency. She eyed him warily.
He was all smiles and charm today. Even at their meeting first thing that morning he’d calmed down. He was like a dog with no teeth, but he might grow some if he figured out she’d been investigating Van’s death against his explicit instructions.
“Nice job on the arrest this morning, Ava.”
“Thank you.” She gifted him a belated, “Sir.”
Van had always said you caught more flies with honey than vinegar, and Sheridan wasn’t the only one who was good at manipulating people.
“The damage to the Impala was minimal. Did you know it had reinforced bumpers before you rammed Taylor’s SUV?”
Did he think she was an idiot?
“I wouldn’t have attempted the PIT maneuver in an unmodified vehicle, nor would I have done it if I hadn’t seen the patrol cars in close pursuit. I had only a few seconds before Taylor reached I95 and the potential harm to civilians would have increased dramatically.”
“I’m not doubting your choices, Ava.” Liar. He laughed. “I’m shocked he turned up at all.”
Yeah, she’d gathered. Aldrich had been trying to keep her occupied and away from the office and the investigation into Calvin Mortimer’s shooting. Jimmy Taylor had messed up his plans.
“No one ever said cons were rocket scientists.” She turned slightly in her chair, feigning nonchalance. “Any news into Mortimer’s murder?”
Even though the shooting had occurred in Virginia, higher ups had moved the investigation to the Washington Field Office (WFO) as they had more available personnel and space than the Richmond office. Plus, WFO was geographically closer to the crime scene and the national laboratory and the director who had apparently requested hourly briefs on the task force’s progress.
Aldrich stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Lead investigator is an agent called Mark Gross who was recently promoted to squad leader at WFO. I know they’re pursuing leads into vehicles seen on the traffic cams in Fredericksburg yesterday, although if the attack was planned it’s likely they used false plates, and they’re still waiting on the ballistics report.”
“No forensic evidence recovered from the roof of the apartment complex?”
“Unfortunately not. Just the brass casing you and SSA Sheridan discovered.” Aldrich leaned on the edge of her cubicle. “How are you doing today?”
How was she doing? Lost. Adrift. Angry. “Fine.”
“You talked to the psychologist yet?”
Her mouth pinched. “I was busy with the Taylor surveillance and arrest. I’ll call to book an appointment now…” She reached for the phone. It was after five and the shrinks would all have left for the day. As she’d expected, no one answered. She made a show of checking her watch. “I hadn’t realized it was so late.”
“Do it tomorrow. Losing Van was bad enough and then Calvin Mortimer shot dead in front of us. It’s important to get the help you need.”
The help she needed involved everyone else getting out of her way so she could figure out exactly how Van died.