by Lori Ryan
“Agent Sands.” It wasn’t a greeting so much as an acknowledgement that she’d stormed in. Genesio leaned to look around her to where Rylan stood at her back. “And you’ve brought a friend. He doesn’t have that FBI stink about him.” He sniffed. “What is that? I know that stink, but I just can’t place it. It’s on the tip of my tongue, Sal.”
“That’s a different stink, Mr. Genesio,” said Bassani. “That’s city grade pig.”
Cal only grinned wider at the insult and Eve didn’t seem to miss a beat. “Good to see you, Sal. When I heard Dom was diversifying with a sniper, I was a little worried you might be out of a job. Is he keeping you on out of pity maybe? Or are we calling it loyalty? Keep the old guy on even after he’s not much use to you. It’s almost noble, in a way.”
A growl seemed to come from Bassani’s chest and Cal had to force himself not to step in front of Agent Sands. She was an agent. It would be an insult for him to show he was at all concerned she couldn’t handle herself. But he’d seen the flash of shadow across Dominic Genesio’s face when she’d called him Dom. The mob boss might be humoring her by letting her burst into his office, but her button pushing was having an effect.
“Sniper?” Asked Genesio coolly. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Agent.”
That was bullshit if Cal ever heard it. By now, the word would have gotten to Genesio that a sniper had targeted NHPD headquarters. That was, assuming he hadn’t been the one to order the shot.
“I think you do. Sal’s gotten a little sloppy, hasn’t he?” She gave Sal a pointed once-over. “He is getting a little old. Maybe he isn’t as effective as he used to be? You need some insurance? A little backup? Or maybe just an extra pair of hands to help him keep up with his workload?” Eve leaned her hands on the desk as she spoke and the accountant looking guy backed away.
Genesio laughed. “That sharp tongue of yours is gonna bite you in that fine ass one day, Sands, but I actually find it a little entertaining.”
Cal found himself growling now. He didn’t miss the look Sands shot him, but hell, it was hard not jumping in. Eve showed Genesio a picture of Eddy Preiss, but Cal didn’t catch any reaction. Not to the name or the photo. Not so much as a twitch to show he recognized the guy.
“Sal, you know this guy?” Genesio took the picture and held it up to Sal.
Sal shrugged. “Who knows. Might have seen him around. Maybe he works the mailroom or something.”
They had no record of Eddy working here, and they’d run his employment records, but Cal wasn’t about to let that opening slip by. “So, you wouldn’t mind checking your employee records for us? Or you can grab us a copy of them and we’ll look through ‘em for you. Save you the trouble.”
“I don’t think so, Detective.” Genesio’s tone tried to convince them they were discussing tea in the park, not whether he’d had a man shot to death that morning. The visit went downhill from there, though, with Genesio politely encouraging them to look elsewhere for whomever had hired their hitman before letting them know it was time to leave. Cal cursed as they walked out. They had nothing they could use to press the guy and no evidence strong enough to let them check the guy over to any real degree.
The visit had been a dead end.
Chapter Seven
Eve shook off the tension as they stepped from the building and back into the afternoon sun. She had to admit, she was surprised Rylan had managed not to go the full blown macho ass route. She’d had to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of respect she’d earned on the job. A lot of men would have jumped in to save her when Dominic Genesio had let his mouth run at her. Maybe Rylan wasn’t a complete prick, after all.
A little prick, at the very least, but not a complete one. It annoyed her that she liked that about him.
“Still think it was him?” Rylan asked, looking back up at the building.
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head and blowing off the annoying attraction that had been building between her and the detective. It was stupid. When she’d felt him step up beside her up there, quietly and calmly having her back, there’d been a little kick of arousal. She shoved the thoughts aside. She’d had male partners step up to have her back before. This was no different.
Bullshit, a little voice hummed.
She ignored it. “We don’t have much else to go on for now.”
He nodded. “Let’s take a look at your dead witness’s crimes and see if any threads pull loose there. Maybe something Preiss was into will lead us to his killer or back to Genesio.”
She didn’t have any better ideas. “He was arrested for burglary, right?” She asked as they walked to his car, which they’d left on the street outside the building. The POLICE BUSINESS sign on the dash kept it from being towed. At his nod, she continued. “Could be a partner who thought he was going to talk about jobs they’d worked together.”
Rylan’s face said he doubted it. “His sheet is full of pretty petty jobs. I doubt he was hooked up with anyone big enough to pull this off or hire a hit.”
“So you’ve thought of that, too?” Eve asked, as she opened her door.
Rylan got into the car and waited for her to get in and buckle her seatbelt before responding. “Thought of what? That New Haven might have a new hitman in town?”
“Yeah. I don’t like that possibility, but it’s a likely one.”
“I agree. You know we need to look at the people who could pull off this kind of shot. The pros. Military.”
She paused before adding to his list, “Law enforcement.”
“Could be someone with police training who never made it onto the force.” Rylan suggested.
“That’s a reach. They wouldn’t have gotten any sniper training if they’d washed out.” She didn’t miss the twitch in his jaw as she spoke. She wasn’t happy with the line they were having to walk down either, but it had to be done. A shot like the one their sniper had made told them a lot of things. It spoke of someone with training. With the kind of weapon that could make such a long-distance shot. With the kind of steady hand and mental discipline it takes to make the shot. She shrugged off his gaze. “I can have someone pull records for anyone fitting those parameters, assuming they’re in the system. If this guy is former military or former law enforcement, well, we might not even know about them. Not to mention this person could be a trained mercenary. Someone trained off the grid.”
Rylan’s phone rang, and he glanced at the screen where it sat in a holder on the dash. He punched a button on his steering wheel before speaking aloud. “Rylan.”
“Hey Cal,” a male voice Eve didn’t immediately recognize said over the Bluetooth speakers of the car. Cal mouthed uniform at her and she understood this was one of the uniformed officers. “We’ve got a building over in the canvas area that’s got a number of apartments being renovated. Corner of South Orange and DeDiego. Officer Garran says one of them has a table shoved in front of the window.”
“Sounds like it could be our nest,” Eve said, and Cal agreed. It sounded like the perfect place for their shooter to hole up and wait for the vic.
“Did you call a tech?” Rylan asked.
“Yeah, Identification is sending someone now.” Eve knew he meant the Identification Division of the New Haven PD. They handled identification and crime scene analysis, as well as firearms and anything else falling under the heading of forensics.
“Thanks, Dan. We’re on our way now.”
Twenty minutes later, Eve was ready to throttle the man in front of them. The building’s super couldn’t be less helpful if he tried. She could tell he wasn’t trying to be difficult. He was just utterly clueless. She had to wonder what the man was being paid for.
“I just don’t know how it could have happened.” He’d now said the same thing five times.
“But you’ve said the front lock hasn’t worked properly for a couple of months now.” This was a statement from Eve, not a question. She honestly couldn’t understand how the man was so surpr
ised someone had gotten into the building when the lock didn’t work and the video cameras were all out.
“It’s on my list,” the man said, hitching up the tool belt that seemed to be only for show around his waist. He’d also said this several times now, as though putting something on his list was all that was required of him to meet the demands of a building’s super. “I handle this building and the one across the street. The list is long.” He offered a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Eve crossed to the window again, where Detective Rylan stood looking out. The crime scene technician had already vacuumed the rug and bagged the vacuum cleaner bag as evidence, checked the table and sill for debris, and dusted both for prints. The surfaces had been wiped clean, and Eve wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear the shooter had somehow cleaned the carpet. The place looked spotless.
Needless to say, there hadn’t been any handy little pile of cigarette butts with DNA on the ends from their shooter. No shell sitting on the floor waiting for them to pick it up. Their shooter had been trained and disciplined.
Rylan turned to look at her over his shoulder. “It lines up right.”
Eve stepped closer. “It’s tight,” she said, letting out a low whistle. The shooter would have had to shoot through a corridor lined by several buildings with a view partially obstructed by trees. Her assessment of their shooter cranked up another notch. Whoever this guy was, good didn’t begin to describe his level of skill.
“Professional doesn’t even begin to do this guy justice,” Rylan said, echoing her own thoughts. She could hope this was a one-off. That this shooter had only intended to take out Eddy Preiss and be done with it, but her gut told her that wasn’t true. She had a feeling they were looking at the start of this, and the end might be nowhere in sight.
Chapter Eight
Eve stepped into the small room, shrinking its size down by half. He’d noticed that happened with her, and he knew it didn’t have a damned thing to do with the dimensions of the room. Hell, she was petite, but her presence wasn’t. The minute she was near him, her scent enveloped him, distracting him more than he’d like to admit. It wasn’t one of those flowery frou-frou scents most women went for. It was clean soap and a hint of something like coconut or jasmine, or hell, he had no idea what. He just knew he liked it.
He’d tried to tell her to go home. That he would wait for the uniforms to turn in their notes for the day for review, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She carried two coffees in her hands and he had to crush the urge to reach out and kiss her. This kiss would have been the thank-you-for-delivering-the-elixir-of-the-gods kind of kiss, as opposed to the kind he’d been picturing with her all day. Those had been more along the lines of the press-you-up-against-the-nearest-wall-and-see-if-I-can-make-you-moan kind of kiss.
He shook off the images. He worked with women all the time. Respected the hell out of them. He’d seen women do some shit on the force he couldn’t do. They had a way of handling shit that was different, but every bit as effective as the guys. And he had no issue being partnered with one.
Except this one seemed to be getting under his skin and it was starting to grate on his nerves. If she noticed, she didn’t let on, and he was thankful for that. He would hate for her to think he was the kind of ass who couldn’t handle working with her without hitting on her.
“Find anything yet, Rylan?” She looked over his shoulder, and he found himself grumbling in response.
“That’s my brother.”
“What? Who’s your brother?” There was humor in her voice.
“Rylan. My older brother is Rylan. Every time you call me that, I look around for him.”
She slid up on the table next to him, casually moving aside a stack of files to sit. He wouldn’t have thought she’d let her hair down enough to be that casual, but he liked that she did. His fingers itched to reach out and pull down the knot of hair at the back of her neck. To see what it felt like tangled around his hands.
Good lord, what was wrong with him? He shoved his chair back from the table, putting a little more distance between them. His chair hit the back wall. Damn.
“Your partner doesn’t call you Rylan?” She looked out the door toward the bullpen. “None of the guys call you Rylan?”
He shrugged and took a gulp of coffee. “They do if they don’t want an answer.”
She laughed and he liked the sound a little too much. Fuck, he needed to go home. Clearly, the long day and the stress of seeing his partner shot was getting to him. His head should be all in the job right now and it was anything but. He scrubbed a hand down his face and looked back at the notes he’d been reviewing.
“Anything yet?” She repeated.
He shook his head. “Typical I didn’t see squat kind of stuff. No one reports seeing anything unusual or seeing anyone suspicious hanging around. They heard the shot, but assumed it was a car backfiring or a tool on the construction site.”
“Speaking of construction, how is it none of the people working on the renovations saw anything? How did our shooter get in there? And how do you get a rifle long enough to make this shot in without being seen?” Eve’s eyes squinted as she seemed to think through every angle. “The shooter couldn’t use a telescoping barrel on a shot this far. It wouldn’t give him the kind of accuracy he needed. I guess a collapsing stock would get it shorter and wouldn’t hurt the accuracy, but still, we’re looking at a two-foot-long weapon at the least. The very least.”
Cal agreed. She was dead on in her assessment. “I don’t have an answer on that yet, but I can tell you the construction had been put on hold because the building owner is being sued by the tenants in one of his other buildings and is facing a ton of fines over some violations in another. Apparently, all his money is going toward that right now.”
He slid the notes from one of the officers who’d canvassed the neighborhood over to her and she took it wordlessly, reading through the report.
The night shift was coming on and he could hear the change of shift happening in the bullpen. They’d finish up reading the reports and then head out. There wasn’t much more they could do tonight. Tomorrow, they’d head out and trace every step the uniforms had already taken, repeating the interviews again. Not because he didn’t trust the officers he’d assigned. It was the nature of the job. Half of all investigating came down to interviews. And a lot of the time, that was interviewing, then interviewing again. And again, if need be. Some little detail would shake out. A little piece here or there that would lead to a loose thread to pull. It was painstaking and boring as all hell most of the time. CSI could kiss his ass. It was so far from reality, he almost watched it for the comedy of it all.
He finished reading through his notes and waited until Eve looked up from hers, with a shake of her head at him. “Nothing here.”
“Have you been trying to take out Genesio for a long time?” He asked, and she looked taken aback by the question for a minute. He watched as she blanked her expression. Neat trick.
“Yeah. If we can link this back to him, I might finally do it.”
“I’ve heard he’s slippery.” Cal hadn’t ever worked on any of the investigations against Genesio personally, but it was well known the man covered his tracks well. “What makes you so intent on getting him?”
“It’s my job.” Again with the blank face.
He shook his head. “It’s more than that.” He could see it in her intensity. In the way she’d interacted with the mob man himself. Hell, in the way Genesio had treated her. He doubted that was the reception any other cop would’ve gotten if they’d gone waltzing into the man’s office.
She looked at him for a long minute before answering. “My dad got in his way.”
Shit. He hadn’t expected that and he hated he’d brought that out, made her say it. “I’m sorry.”
She looked down and shrugged. “He didn’t want to pay a cut of his dry cleaning business to Genesio. Genesio was up and coming in his family’s business and he wanted to set an example. He burned
the business down.”
“Your dad?” Cal asked, even though he had a feeling he knew the answer.
“Locked inside. Chains on the doors even. With all that, there still wasn’t anything to tie to Genesio.”
Christ. Cal remembered the case. Not that he’d been a cop then. He’d been in high school, but he remembered the story. He put his hand on hers and waited for her to look up. When she did, there was sorrow, but also something else. He saw, for only a split second, the heat he’d felt at the touch reflected back in her eyes. She shut it down right away, just as he had.
“I really am sorry,” he said, then drew back his hand.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thanks.”
Chapter Nine
Despite dropping into bed as soon as she got home at ten, Eve didn’t get more than two hours’ sleep. The call came at midnight. Another man shot. A sniper’s bullet.
Cal pulled up just as Eve stepped out of her car. She stood and waited for him, her eyes caught on the sight of him just a little mussed from sleep. She wanted to reach out and brush the stray hairs into place and—what the hell was that?
She took a step backward, regrouping before this went too far. She never had thoughts like that on the job. Never. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.
Eve knew most people looked at her and saw someone soft, fragile. It had taken her years to earn respect in this job, and she never put it at risk by dating at work. Hell, she didn’t even flirt at work.
She still hadn’t figured out how Dickwad Dyson hadn’t gotten her pulled from this case. As pissed as he was at her, she knew she had to tread carefully until she was off his radar. She had a feeling that could take a while, but somehow, she was still here. Whether it was Cal’s Captain behind it or what, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t about to screw that up by lusting after someone she was working with. She’d seen how one wrong look, one little rumor could kill a woman’s career. That, or chain you with the kind of reputation you didn’t want. Rumors like that never went away.
