Dominic took a deep breath. As tempting as it was to buy into her theory, there was no proof. Stopping the funeral would cause hurt and uncertainty for Van’s daughters, and the man would not have wanted that.
“Look. He’d just retired from one of the most exciting jobs on the planet. His wife of thirty-five years lost a long battle with cancer less than two years ago. Van was hurting. I don’t want to believe it either—”
“Except you’re not exactly fighting to figure out the truth,” she said bitterly.
Ouch. That stung.
He leaned in close so not even God almighty could overhear them. “Because the truth is he shot himself.” Grief and anger merged. “And that truth will hurt the people who have more right to mourn him than we do.” Dominic looked pointedly towards Van’s daughters who were leaning on one another in their sorrow. “Just because we don’t want to believe it, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
Wasn’t that the goddamned truth.
Kanas’s face crumpled, and tears swam in her eyes, and Dominic felt like an asshole. He put his hand on her shoulder, to give some comfort, but she jerked away.
He let his hand drop, and the impulse died. “How about we get back to the service and discuss this later—”
A loud crack rang out through the blustery morning. It took Dominic a fraction of a second to identify the sound.
“Gunshot!” he yelled, turning and grabbing the nearest civilian and pushing her behind the tree. But rather than running for cover, people were milling around in confusion. Some were bending down near the graveside. Had someone been hit? Damn. Another gunshot echoed through the morning air so loud and lethal it gave him chills. “Active shooter! Everyone find cover. Active shooter!”
The crowd finally understood what was happening and spilled in different directions. He ran towards Van’s daughters who were so wrapped up in grief they hadn’t heard the shot and were bewildered by the sudden surge of movement. He wasn’t gentle or easy. He wrapped an arm around each woman’s shoulders and forced them into a position where they were protected by Van’s coffin and a large marble mausoleum.
“Stay here and stay down.” He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Van’s kids.
Dominic crouched as low as he could, pulling his Glock-22, scanning the surrounding area to assess the situation even as he called it in. The priest was cowering behind another tree, and people were crying as they huddled in terror behind any cover they could find.
Goddamn son of a bitch.
“Gun shot fired at St. Michaels’s Catholic Church.” He peeked his head over the marble and saw a crumpled form lying in the wet grass. Calvin Mortimer. Shit. They’d worked together in New York.
The emergency operator was still on the line.
“Federal agent down—we need immediate medical help. Might be an active shooter situation,” he added, even though it would delay the ambulance. He couldn’t in good conscience let first responders walk unsuspectingly into gunfire.
Another bullet pinged off the tombstone above his head, making Van’s daughters shriek in fear.
“You’re okay as long as you keep your head down. Do not break cover.” Assuming the shooter didn’t move firing position. He didn’t tell them that. He doubted that would happen. It seemed more like a sniper attack than a terrorist assault and law enforcement should be able to isolate and capture this UNSUB in situ.
His gaze went back to Calvin lying motionless on the wet grass. The perfect target. Dammit. Dominic couldn’t leave the guy exposed like that. The distant scream of sirens sliced the air.
He looked around and locked gazes with Ava Kanas who had drawn her weapon. She tipped her head toward Calvin. Dominic nodded, tucking his weapon back in its holster before sprinting from behind the headstone, expecting a bullet for his trouble.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kanas dodge from one tree to another, hopefully drawing the shooter’s attention away from him for a few precious moments. His ragged breath and the loud beat of his heart reverberated in his ears. He hauled Calvin up and over his shoulder, never hesitating even as a bullet bounced off a grave marker nearby.
Dammit.
Dominic ran for cover, holding tight to the man, hoping like hell he wasn’t doing more harm than good. He laid Calvin carefully on the ground behind the engine block of the nearest vehicle.
Another shot rang out, splintering wood inches from where Ava Kanas sheltered. She raised her Glock and took aim, but whoever was firing the long gun was well out of range, and Kanas resisted returning fire and potentially injuring innocent civilians.
Cool under pressure. He admired that.
He turned his attention back to the wounded man. Calvin didn’t seem to be breathing, and there was a bullet hole on the right side of his chest close to his heart. It looked bad, and the basic first aid Dominic knew wasn’t nearly sufficient enough to deal with this situation.
“Let me through.” One of the mourners crawled toward him. “I’m a trained RN. Let me in.”
Dominic tapped the man crouched beside him on the shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Richard.”
“Help the nurse, Richard. Try to keep this man alive until the ambulance arrives.”
The man nodded, and the nurse started working to stem the blood flowing from the wound, before moving on to chest compressions.
Calvin had lost a lot of blood.
Dominic scanned the area. Most people were keeping safely out of the line of fire. There had been a short lull in the shooting. Dominic didn’t know whether the gunman was waiting to pick off anyone foolish enough to give them a clean target or if he was making his escape. It all depended on the shooter’s endgame.