Dangerous To Love

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  “You could pick up the phone yourself you know. Better yet, pay the man a visit.”

  Tension pulled at the muscles across Dominic’s chest. “I’ll try to do that the next time I’m in DC.” And he probably did owe the man a visit. It just felt so incredibly freaking awkward visiting his godfather at the White House.

  “I was calling for another reason.” His dad cleared his throat. “I asked Tracy to marry me, and she said yes.”

  Dominic blew out an audible breath and dragged off his sling, tossing it on the bed. “That’s great, Dad.” Maybe fifth time was the charm.

  “We’re having an engagement party next week. Would love for you to come up and meet her and her family. Your brother and sister will both be there. Bring a date.”

  A date? Was he serious? Last time Dominic had taken a date home his brother had seduced her. Dominic unbuttoned his shirt and eased out of the sleeves. The bruises on his ribs were darkening beneath the surface of his skin. Dominic shucked his pants and tossed them on a chair. He had pajamas around here somewhere. He went to the walk-in closet and fished out some loose plaid pants. Ava Kanas probably wouldn’t appreciate what he usually slept in.

  “Tracy wants a big, white wedding as this is her first time…”

  Dear Jesus.

  “I was hoping you’d be my best man.”

  “You told Franklin about that?” His older brother would be pissed.

  His dad laughed. “Not yet but he did the last three. Figured I might have better luck if I asked you this time.”

  His brother wouldn’t like being usurped. For some unknown reason, Franklin had been in competition with Dominic for as long as he could remember. Sports. Grades. Women. His father’s attention. Franklin hadn’t liked it when Dominic had rejected the idea of joining the family law firm where he’d already made partner. He didn’t like the fact Dominic had signed up for the FBI. He didn’t even like the fact it was Dominic’s godfather and not his who occupied the Oval Office.

  Their father was always trying to force them to get along, but Dominic was the only one making concessions, and he was done with the pretense and the bullshit.

  “I’m hoping this is the last time. I think you’ll like Tracy.”

  His father might have better luck if he didn’t marry women half his age who wanted his money and position more than they wanted the man himself. Not that Dominic was an expert in relationships. His dad definitely had him beat there.

  His father cleared his throat. Their interactions always seemed to stumble on the unresolved damage from Dominic’s childhood. “Anyway, hopefully you’ll come.” His dad rattled off a date and time. “Your sister misses you.”

  He knew that was the only way his father could even come close to admitting he missed him too. At least the governor was no longer living in the mansion where Dominic had found his mother overdosed in bed when he’d been a kid.

  He remembered every detail from that day. From the quietness of the house, to the stuffiness of his mother’s bedroom. He’d known he wasn’t supposed to bother her when she was sick—he had a new baby sister and waking his mom up when she was sleeping was punishable by a sharp smack across the back of the legs. But he’d skinned his knee falling off his bike and had wanted his mother’s comfort.

  Yeah, well that hadn’t happened. He pushed the memories away.

  “I’m not sure I can get away to Vermont right now, Dad. There’s some stuff going on at work.”

  “Well, that’s okay because we’re holding the party in DC so that everyone can attend.”

  By everyone, he meant the president. Dominic couldn’t help being cynical. “Well, that’s great. I can’t guarantee I’ll be in Virginia though. If a situation arises—”

  “Surely the FBI can spare you for one lousy night especially after you were in a car accident?”

  Guilt twisted his insides. Last time he’d visited had been at Christmas, and his father sounded genuinely keen to see him. “I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.”

  “At least I know what to get you for Christmas this year.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A new Lexus.”

  Dominic closed his eyes as images from the crash bombarded him. “I don’t need you to get me a car, Dad.”

  He thought he heard a catch in his father’s voice. “But I’d like to, son.”

  It was always like this. Clawing through years of guilt to try and have a normal relationship and then throwing money at it in the hopes of a quick fix. He cleared his throat and returned the favor. “So, what do you want for an engagement present?”

  “You. I want to see you.”

  Shit.

  “And bring a date. Otherwise I’ll have Tracy invite all of her single friends to try to set you up.”

  “Fine. I’ll bring someone.” He closed his eyes and hung up, praying for a hostage situation to arise. How the holy hell had he been trapped into this? Maybe Charlotte would come with him. But even as he thought it, he knew who he’d be taking to the goddamn party.

  Maybe they’d get sent to Alaska, or an oilrig. He could hope.

  He headed out of his bedroom to grab a glass of water and some pain meds but stopped on the threshold of his darkened living room.

  Ava was stretched out asleep on the couch wearing sweats and a green camisole. Ranger was curled up beside her.

  “Traitor,” he muttered to the dog who gave him the side eye.

  He grabbed an afghan from the back of the other couch and draped it over the two of them.

  Then he went back to his oversized and empty bed and lay there awake not knowing what the hell he wanted anymore.

  * * *

  Watching Sheridan’s house from the woods wasn’t as satisfying as it usually was. The blinds were closed, and drapes drawn flush against one another. No gaps. No easy spying on Dominic Sheridan. No fantasizing about putting a bullet in his unsuspecting forehead.

  There were no cars in the driveway, but he was definitely home. Not dead. Hiding.

  Was he alone?

  Reports hadn’t indicated any fatalities last night so the woman he’d been with was presumably alive too. Pity. Caroline’s death wouldn’t be quite so pointless if at least one of them had died. But Caroline had interfered and had known too much. Plus, she’d served her purpose.

  Would they blame Caroline for the murders? It was distinctly possible. An idea took shape. It would require another night of no sleep, but sleep was elusive these days anyway. Too many ghosts begging for retribution.

  A light snapped off inside Sheridan’s bedroom, leaving only the dim lights on inside the pool. The G-man had an excellent alarm system, video cameras and motion sensors on every corner.

  It was too risky to attempt a break-in, and it was preferable to pounce when the prey wasn’t expecting it. Like poor pathetic Van Stamos. So earnest in his desire to fight crime.

  Fucker.

  Impatience started to bite. To finish this. To destroy this asshole. The desire to smash all the windows with a baseball bat and piss in the pool was appealing, but it wouldn’t win the prize of complete and utter revenge. Only three more dead bodies would do that.

  The challenge was harder now.

  The wind rustled the leaves on the trees, and darkness encompassed the world. A grim reaper walked through the shadows, patient and ready. Now for the real test. Now to kill the last three murderers and have complete and utter revenge. Soon. Very soon.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dominic walked into his boss’s office the next morning, sat down and waited for the opening salvo.

  Quentin Savage looked up from the report he was reading. “I just got off the phone with the director.”

  “Yeah?” Minimal positive encouragers worked to keep the other person talking, which was more effective when the other person wasn’t a trained negotiator.

  “Yeah,” Savage repeated and eyed him narrowly. “Lincoln Frazer managed to persuade him we need to look into the possible scenari
o that FBI agents from the NYFO have been deliberately targeted and their deaths staged to look like accidents. Now the director wants WFO to expand the task force into Tuesday’s shooting into a task force that investigates all these deaths to see if there’s a link. They are assigning bodyguards to anyone who worked on that squad during that time period, including you. Did you have anything to do with this?”

  “I discussed a few things with Lincoln Frazer yesterday afternoon.”

  “When you were supposed to be resting?” Savage had a reputation for no bullshit, brutal honesty. When negotiating, he was absolutely unflappable, but the rest of the time he was fiery and unpredictable. It kept everyone on their toes.

  “I started to think back on how many agents who I’d worked with had died recently. I couldn’t rest until I spoke to someone who might recognize a pattern.”

  “And who better than the head of BAU-4?” Savage said snidely.

  BAU-4 was the behavioral analysis unit that dealt with crimes against adults.

  “Can you think of anyone from the cases you worked on back then who might hate the FBI this much?” Savage asked.

  The idea someone wanted him dead was unsettling. Sure, plenty of bad guys he’d put away had threatened him with violence when he’d arrested them, but they generally didn’t take it personally. They were the ones breaking the law and—as long as they weren’t narcissists—they understood they got what they deserved. “Anyone who hates the FBI that much is either still serving time or dead.”

  He’d checked the most obvious, high-profile villains last night. Lincoln’s team were checking the rest while the task force got organized.

  “They could have hired someone or possibly have a family member who felt wronged,” Savaged mused.

  Dominic grunted. If he knew who it might be, he’d have said already.

  “And here’s me thinking you were the charmer of the group,” Savage grumbled after a few moments.

  “Apparently someone missed the memo.” And the killer wasn’t the only one. Dominic thought of Ava Kanas. She’d barely spoken to him since breakfast when he’d informed her they might have to attend his father’s engagement party in DC next week if this situation wasn’t resolved.

  She’d asked what to wear, and he’d told her a dress, and she’d been pissed ever since. Showing up in body armor was bad form.

  He didn’t think anyone would make an attempt on his life at this thing because security would be tight if POTUS was expected to attend. He and Kanas could use the trip to glean more information out of the case agents. Visit the WFO and the task force before the party. They didn’t have to stay long. A quick in and out was always the best way to attend these things, especially if his family were involved.

  He snapped back to whatever Savage was saying. “They’ve had at least two opportunities to kill you, and yet they haven’t. Why?”

  “Maybe I’m just lucky?” said Dominic evenly.

  “Maybe they want to torture you before they kill you,” Savage suggested.

  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.

  “I’d prefer a team of negotiators over any one individual negotiator.”

  “Well, obviously.” They always worked in teams. “But if some bad guy started chopping off your extremities, it’s me you’d want talking the guy down, right?” Dominic grinned when Savage crossed his legs.

  “You had to go there.” Savage’s lips twitched.

  “That’s right,” Dominic said.

  “With my luck you’d dare my kidnapper to kill me just to get my job,” Savage grumbled.

  “I didn’t think of that.” Dominic placed his palm on Savage’s desk. He knew he had him.

  “I guess you’re probably safer up there than here. It wouldn’t surprise me if the UNSUB pays your house a visit trying to get to you.”

  “I have great security. I’ll know if someone tries to break in.”

  Savage followed him out of his office. “Don’t forget your bodyguard.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

 

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