Dominic laughed. “There’s a cheery thought.”
Savage was right though. He’d been a potential target at the funeral, and GHB wasn’t the only thing someone could slip into a drink—assuming that was the same UNSUB and not the drug dealers. Whoever wanted to kill him had had several opportunities.
Dominic scrubbed his good hand over his face, trying to erase the image of Calvin’s bright red blood on his white cotton shirt. The image flashed into his mind, and he was horrified all over again. Furious. Devastated. He was so tired, the sling he was forced to wear was cumbersome and restrictive, and his whole body throbbed with low grade pain, but he wasn’t going to whine. Unlike Van and Calvin and the others, he was alive.
“Ballistics confirmed that the bullet casing found on the rooftop was the same caliber and composition and probable make as the one that killed Calvin Mortimer,” Savage said.
“That’s hardly helpful,” Dominic said derisively.
The Unit Chief shrugged. “It’s as much as we have to go on right now. Slug that came out of Mortimer was virtually destroyed, and they can’t get ballistic markings off it, nor any of the others.”
But if they found the shooter and the gun, they could match the brass casing, which might make it possible to get a conviction. The shooter had cleared up most of the brass which suggested the one left behind had been a mistake.
“Any update on eye witnesses or surveillance footage in the area of the apartment complex?” Dominic asked.
Savage shook his head. “I spoke to Mark Gross from WFO who said that they’d canvassed every residence in a square mile block, reviewed all the images taken in the area but there are no cameras that cover the front of that building. They are running plates from any vehicles caught on camera or registered in the local parking meters but no red flags so far.”
“Someone did their research beforehand.”
“We’re lucky he was a lousy shot.”
That was true, Dominic realized. The shooter had only hit Calvin, who’d presented a non-moving target. It suggested the shooter wasn’t military or particularly skilled. As soon as people had started to scatter the shooter hadn’t hit anyone. Closest they’d come was to nailing Ava with that shard of shattered wood.
Dominic pressed his lips together. She’d come close to death that day and had still gone head-to-head with the top man in the FBI an hour later. If he could teach her how to talk to her superiors with tact then there’d be no stopping her in the Bureau. In ten years, she’d be running her own field office.
“So, we’ve basically got no progress on finding Calvin’s killer?” Dominic said.
“Basically.”
“The shoe prints I found outside Van’s window were a size seven.” Pretty small. Could have been a kid being nosey. “They are running DNA.”
“Which will take a few days,” said Savage leaning back in his chair. “I hear we have a new member of the team.” He smiled without it touching his eyes and stared out into the bullpen where Ava had set herself up to work. She was still trawling through cases from the NYFO, looking for something that screamed blood-thirsty vengeance.
“Lincoln Frazer suggested using Kanas to watch my back.”
“I’d prefer a team from HRT.” Savage’s black gaze was unwavering.
“She’s a good agent.” Dominic held his stare. “I am not wasting the time of an entire detail of folks from the Hostage Rescue Team.”
“That is part of HRT’s remit. Guarding FBI members and their families.” Savage’s expression was stern. “And you know it.”
“I’m not having a security detail,” Dominic spoke loudly. He liked and respected his Unit Chief but he wasn’t backing down on this.
“And here’s me thinking I was the boss.” Savage was testing him.
“We want to draw the UNSUB out. We won’t do that if I’m surrounded by men with MP-5s. They’ll just go to ground until we drop our guard.”
“You think Ava Kanas is up to the job of keeping you safe?”
“I’ve seen her in action. She’s a good agent.” Dominic shrugged. No one was taking a bullet for him anyway.
Savage exhaled loudly. “Just don’t go anywhere alone, not even a public restroom.”
“I don’t usually hang out in public toilets so it shouldn’t be a problem.” Dominic checked his watch, eager to escape his boss’s office and return to some semblance of normality. “I need to head back to work, unless there’s anything else…”
Savage glanced at his computer monitor and swore.
“What is it?” asked Dominic, getting that tingle between his shoulder blades that said something big was about to happen.
“Prison siege in New York State.”
“Send me—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No,” Savage said, exasperated. “You’re grounded until we catch this killer.”
“What the hell? You think this shooter is stupid enough to follow me into a siege area that probably has more SWAT and security than anywhere outside a war zone? That’s the safest spot I could be. Come on…” Dominic raised his good hand in the air.
“They were stupid enough to murder an FBI agent at an FBI agent’s funeral.” Savage mirrored his pose. “I’m sending Charlotte and Eban. HRT have been assigned too. I’m sure they can handle it.”
“You’re gonna need more negotiators there than that,” Dominic stated softly.
“You’re a liability.”
Dominic climbed to his feet. “Someone attacks me and I’m forced out of my job? I’m supposed to sit here arranging teaching timetables for training classes?”
“Someone has to do it. Why not you?” Savage gave him a look.
Dominic’s lips curved into a confident smile. “Because I’m one of your most experienced negotiators?”
“And?”
“And…my skills are better off being used in the field than being squandered in the office.”
“I’m not seeing it.” Savage deadpanned.
“If you were captured by terrorists who’d you want on the other end of the line?” Dominic was not going to sit here twiddling his thumbs because of some asshole.