The director nodded brusquely and stalked away, most of the suits following him in a swarm as he headed to his big black car.
Sheridan, the blond-haired man, and the pregnant woman remained behind. The woman held out her hand in greeting. “Agent Rooney. Nice to meet you, even though the circumstances suck.”
Ava pressed the other woman’s fingers in a firm grip. She’d heard of Mallory Rooney. Almost everyone in the Bureau had. Rooney was married to some shit-hot, ex-CIA dude, and worked for Lincoln Frazer, the legendary profiler from the Behavioral Analysis Unit—and Ava finally identified the blond man at Mallory’s side. Assistant Special Agent in Charge (ASAC) Lincoln Frazer had taught Ava all about the grisly aspects of serial murder during the blur of New Agent Training.
“What makes you think Van Stamos was murdered, Agent Kanas?” Frazer wasted no time on pleasantries.
“The fact he was a devoted Catholic who wanted to go to Heaven?”
Frazer looked unimpressed.
How did she articulate what she couldn’t explain herself? “Van believed he’d see his wife again in the hereafter. No way would he kill himself and deny himself that eternal happy ending.”
It sounded sappy, but it was true.
“So, no actual evidence?” Frazer’s gaze was assessing.
She straightened her spine. “Except the fact he was enjoying retirement and talked about visiting Italy and writing a book. Also, we were supposed to meet for coffee the next day.”
“People who commit suicide often make plans.” Frazer wasn’t known for his tolerance of foolish ideas, but she was disappointed he wasn’t more open.
“Van wasn’t depressed,” she said stubbornly.
“That we know of,” Sheridan put in.
She swung toward him. “He wasn’t, and you’d have known that if you’d bothered to pick up the phone occasionally.”
Sheridan’s lips tightened in irritation, but screw him.
“Van wouldn’t have done this to his daughters.” He wouldn’t have done it to me.
Sheridan’s stare grew too intense for her to hold his gaze. She looked away, but Frazer was watching her with the same hawk-like focus, silently dissecting her argument and abilities.
It reminded her of the way Sheridan had stared at her on that rooftop that morning. Like he could read her life experience from the lines on her face and memories scrawled behind her eyes. She’d given herself away to Sheridan, but she didn’t intend to make the same mistake again.
She forced herself to hold still under the scrutiny.
“Contact me at the BAU if your boss finds any discrepancies in the circumstances surrounding Stamos’s death, Agent Kanas. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve this and neither did Cal Mortimer.” Frazer squeezed Sheridan’s shoulder like they were buds. Mallory Rooney shot her a wry smile, then she and Frazer headed off to their car.
Ava was suddenly alone with Sheridan. They both stared at Van’s casket, the hot sun making her cheeks heat. The funeral was on hold until the crime scene was processed.
“You realize you could have handled that with more tact if you’d been driving a bulldozer?” Sheridan said softly.
She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “Because I said what I was thinking rather than sucking up to the big bosses?”
That slight smile touched his lips again, suggesting she amused him. Well fuck him.
“Because you made your boss look like a jackass who can’t control you and he’s gonna be pissed.”
She raised a brow as they eyed one another. It was beyond obvious Aldrich was a jackass and couldn’t “control” her.
“I only want the truth.” Ava crossed her arms over her chest, and he took in her body language with a sweeping gaze that saw everything she wasn’t saying. That she was pissed and frustrated and hurting. And maybe she was being too hard on her boss. Aldrich was harmless. He might be angry, but he wouldn’t screw with her career even though she’d just screwed with his.
Dammit.
Sheridan shifted even closer until his breath stroked her ear. “You need to be careful, Ava.” Her name on his lips sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. “Pulling a stunt like that in front of the director is going to get you a reputation as a blue flamer and that will lose you a lot of friends.”
Was he testing her for a reaction after what had happened on the roof? She lifted her chin, and they stared at one another. So close she could smell the scent of his skin and count the dark lashes around his eyes.
“The FBI is a team, and in this business, we need all the friends we can get—Van taught me that.” His gaze never wavered from hers.
“Kanas!” Aldrich shouted as he strode up behind them, making her startle. “What the hell was that? Are you trying to make me look like an imbecile?”
She winced.
Dominic Sheridan murmured again next to her ear. “Told you.” And then he turned and walked away. She watched him cross the road and climb into a black Prius, driving down the road and taking a right turn out of sight. Aldrich’s words bounced off her like hard rain. She looked over at Van’s coffin baking in the sun. What would her mentor have done if he’d been here? A small smile touched her mouth. He’d have done exactly what she’d done.
“Are we finished, sir?” She touched her injured cheek. “I’m feeling a little woozy.”
The man threw his hands in the air. She’d played her trump card, and he knew it.
“I want you in my office at eight o’clock tomorrow morning to talk about this, Ava. I’m serious. Do not be late.”
She almost snorted as she walked away. Late? He was the one who kept bankers’ hours.