Finally, he headed outside the prison building to the trailer. Tension buzzed through the air from the huge numbers of heavily armed personnel milling around, having low, murmured conversations.
He ignored the curious looks and walked around the corner to where the trailer was situated. He opened the door, relieved it appeared clean, had a working air conditioner, and small kitchenette. Compared to some places he’d stayed in over the years this was a palace.
“Rooney identified a body pulled out of the Rappahannock this morning as that of the waitress from the Mule & Pitcher.” Ava pulled the door shut behind her and dumped her bags on the bench seat.
He stopped and turned, immediately too close to the woman in this enclosed space. He hadn’t thought about the fact they’d be stuck in here together. Alone. Hadn’t had to time to think about anything except getting those hostages to safety.
He was sweaty and dirty, and his body ached from the car accident, but mostly he was starving and determined not to be attracted to Kanas. He grabbed the cartons of Chinese food out of the fridge and threw them all in the microwave. “What else?”
He found two beers in the fridge and popped the lids off both and handed her one. For once she didn’t argue with him about drinking it.
“Caroline Perry’s shoe size is comparable to those we found outside Van’s window. A man’s seven or woman’s size nine.”
“They run Perry’s DNA next to any found at any of the other scenes?”
“It’s being done but the lab is backed up.”
He scratched his forehead and caught sight of his black eyes in the microwave door. “The lab is always backed up. How’d the waitress die?”
“ME hasn’t said yet.”
“Any sign of a gun at her place?”
Ava shook her head. “Mallory was going to visit Karl Feldman with the sketch artist this afternoon. I assume we’ll get a sketch in the morning.” She sounded dubious.
“Except…” he encouraged.
“Except if he was in cahoots with the waitress, he’s hardly likely to admit it so we’ll have no idea if the image is real or an attempt to throw us off the scent.”
“I assume someone is retracing Caroline Perry’s steps to see where she was during Van’s funeral, and at other key times when agents died?”
Ava nodded. “Rooney said they were also tracing her background to see if there were any connections to any of the NYFO cases you guys worked.”
“All the other agents who worked in the squad have protection?”
Ava undid the band that kept her hair tied up and ran her fingers through the long tresses as they fell around her shoulders. He tried not to watch.
“Bunting and his wife went to a safe house. Gil Reiz in San Antonio has an agent assigned with him at all times to act as backup. Fernando Chavez has a team assigned to him and his family.”
Dominic wondered if Reiz’s bodyguard was half as attractive as Ava Kanas. He tried to push the thought away. The fact that he was even thinking it made him feel like a lecherous, old goat. And even though the age difference was less than a decade, his superior rank made the situation ethically wrong. He didn’t want to take advantage of anyone and could only imagine how bad a relationship between the two of them would look on paper.
Relationship?
Shit!
Desire was not a basis for anything except sex. He did not do relationships in general, and he definitely didn’t do them with fellow agents. He had to stop thinking of Ava as anything except a colleague.
He grabbed disposable chopsticks and divided the food equally onto plates. Then he started shoveling food into his mouth like a starving man.
Ava ate more delicately. He just needed enough fuel to get him into the shower and then collapse into bed for a few hours’ sleep and hope no one interrupted him in the meantime.
“Alex Parker get anything from the DEA?” he said between bites of Kung Pao chicken.
“He said the DEA isn’t storing the surveillance online. Lincoln Frazer put in a formal request to see the footage. Parker had better luck with the camera on the ATM across the street but he said the footage was grainy as hell.”
She paused, and he could tell she was thinking something through.
“It seems likely our waitress roofied your water after she found out we were agents—otherwise why is she dead?”
“Maybe the drug dealers saw her talking to us and thought she was snitching on them,” Dominic suggested.
“I guess.” Compliant and agreeable, Ava was obviously tired.
He polished off his food and restrained himself from licking the plate. Ava put her food down, half eaten. He eyed it. “Are you finished? Can I have that?”
She gave him a smile. “You gave me cave man portions so sure. I’m going to grab a shower and pass out.”
“Don’t use all the hot water. I’m next.”
She nodded and hit the minuscule bathroom while he finished his beer and her food, and forced his mind away from the knowledge a wet, naked Ava was standing just a few feet away.
He thought about the siege. Milo was the unknown factor in this dynamic. The guy could start killing the others as soon as his knives were sharpened to his satisfaction. Dominic had requested all the files from Milo’s prosecution. The prison psychiatrist had prescribed medication to help control his paranoid fantasies and they claimed the results had been extremely effective, but Milo wasn’t getting his meds while they were barricaded inside that kitchen. Who the hell knew what that would do to his mental state.
The door to the bathroom opened a crack. Ava poked her head out, fingers curled tight around the door.
“Sorry. Could you pass me a towel, please?”
Dominic started. So much for getting his overactive imagination under control. Her wet hair was dripping water onto the floor and her naked shoulder taunted him like a fourteen-year-old boy.
“Of course.” He went over to Ava’s bag and pulled out a towel. He grabbed his while he was at it, and fresh boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in.
He held the towel out so she could take it. “Here you go.”