Cold Spite, page 17
part #1 of Cold Justice® - Most Wanted Series
Trainer lifted the bag.
“It’s my service weapon. I left it in my house when I went out for my run Monday night.”
“You took it from the murder scene?” Trainer’s expression was incredulous.
“I… collected it,” she hedged carefully. “It hasn’t left my possession since.”
“You know better than that,” Trainer pushed.
She dug her fingernails into the tabletop. “I knew that if the gun was found and identified as mine then I’d be the top suspect in David’s murder, and I knew I hadn’t done it. The killer made it look like a murder/suicide except he killed the wrong person at my house. He killed my best friend.”
“How do we know you didn’t kill them both?” asked Trainer.
“You don’t.” She held his gaze. This was a test. “But why would I be here if that were the case? If I went to all the trouble of murdering Agent Gonzales and Val, why am I sitting here in a room full of people who have the power to arrest me, rather than head to Montenegro and disappear forever? It will be weeks if not months before Val’s DNA is tested. Enough time for me to confuse the trail, have plastic surgery, establish a fake identity.”
Trainer shook his head. “With this in mind,” he raised the gun, “you can’t seriously expect to stay on this task force.”
“Why not?”
“Conflict of interest?” Novak coughed into his closed fist.
“Then what about me?” Demarco glared.
“You didn’t tamper with evidence,” Novak snapped.
“You think Scanlon is stupid enough to have left fingerprints or DNA on that thing?” Demarco’s voice was low and pissed. “Agent Quinn could have gotten rid of the gun and not mentioned it to anyone. No one would be any the wiser. I don’t think Agent Quinn should be berated for making an executive decision when we are obviously dealing with a clever and ruthless individual.”
“There really is a job for you at the CIA if you can’t stand working for the Bureau anymore,” Killion offered. “These are the scenarios we train for, what to do when there are no good options.”
He was trying to divert attention onto himself. It wasn’t working.
“Operator Demarco, what exactly is your relationship with Agent Quinn?” Trainer demanded.
Delilah sucked in a shocked gasp that he’d dare to ask that question in front of an audience.
Demarco looked equally stunned. Then he spoke quietly. “Before last Monday, we hadn’t spoken with one another since before Scanlon was sentenced in court.” His voice went gruff. “We have no relationship.”
The words scraped the scab off the wound even if it was exactly what she’d told him yesterday.
“And during the undercover operation?” Trainer pushed further.
Bastard.
“We were friendly colleagues who worked well together and trusted one another implicitly.”
He’d been her sun and her stars.
“So you were never personally involved?”
She noticed Killion examining his nails. Maybe the Agency was the way to go.
“We had to act as if we were in love for the undercover roles we were playing. We had to sell it to the cartel or die, and we were very good at selling it.” Demarco looked Trainer in the eye as he avoided directly answering the question.
Delilah was reminded what an excellent actor Cas Demarco was and how she shouldn’t believe a word that came out of those sinful lips. But she kept her expression carefully blank. They both had a lot to lose.
“Hmm.” Trainer looked unconvinced.
“Well, now we’ve got all that settled,” Lincoln Frazer spoke up. Delilah had met the FBI’s legendary profiler for the first time outside a few minutes ago. “How about we move on to making a plan to catch the person who just bombed the memorial service of a fine FBI agent and good friend of mine?”
“You’re okay with this?” Trainer waved his hand at where she sat. Delilah tried not to shrink with shame in her seat.
“There’s nothing but positives in Agent Quinn’s record, and in case you didn’t notice, she didn’t ask her father to pull in any favors on her behalf, which he could easily have done.”
She stared down at the table in front of her. Would she have asked him if he hadn’t been suffering from dementia? Maybe. She wasn’t sure and didn’t like what that said about her.
“I suggest we let her assist. Parker can use her insights to help figure out the man’s movements over at his office while others on the task force”—he looked around the almost empty room—“I assume there will be others?”
Trainer’s lip curled. “Supposed to be on their way from HQ, although why we can’t run the investigation out of SIOC is beyond me.”
“That’s something you’ll have to take up with the director. But let those others coordinate with the investigation into the San Diego crimes, including the Clarence Carpenter murder because that was more spur of the moment than the other two killings, and I bet that’s where the killer made a mistake. Another team works the bombing from this side of the country. That way we can keep Agent Quinn at arm’s length from the evidentiary part of the investigation and avoid any suggestion of impropriety should this go to court.”
Trainer pressed his lips together. “Fine.”
Delilah zeroed in on the profiler’s words. “‘Should this go to court’? Why wouldn’t it?”
Frazer rested his unsettling pale blue gaze on her. “Because I very much doubt Joseph Scanlon plans to go back to prison. I pulled his files from the prison psychologists and his evaluations from the Navy before that. He showed definite signs of psychopathy and narcissistic tendencies.”
“But they let him out?” Demarco’s tone was incredulous.
Frazer steepled his fingers on the desk. “Severe psychopathy affects about one percent of the population but, believe it or not, not all psychopaths break the law, and not all criminals are psychopaths. You probably deployed with multiple psychopaths and trusted them completely.”
Demarco grunted, and the sound was so disgruntled Delilah had to hide a smile.
“Joseph Scanlon is probably an extreme case exacerbated by what happened to him. He was very good at being a Navy SEAL and loved the attention that brought him, but somewhere along the way he decided he wanted more. He deserved more. So he figured out a way to get it and started making that short drive across the border—where he knew he wasn’t even supposed to go without written permission—and began earning a nice little side income to pay for the fancy toys he and his wife enjoyed. He never expected to get caught. He especially didn’t expect to get caught by some rookie female FBI agent.” Frazer dragged this hand through his hair that still managed to look perfect. “And, frankly, I’m glad you pretended to be dead because from what I can see in his profile, that man is never going to stop coming for you. Not so long as he has breath in his body.”
“Fuck.” Demarco swore, but it was Frazer who held her attention.
“More importantly, I’m worried about what he might do, how he might lash out if he does discover you’re still alive. I certainly wouldn’t want to be the person standing next to him if that happens.”
“So you think she should continue to pretend to be dead?” Demarco pushed.
“I’m saying if she doesn’t pretend to be dead, there’s a high probability she will be dead in the very near future.”
“If he’s that obsessed, we might be able to use it against him at some point,” Trainer mused.
It was Delilah’s turn to shoot Trainer a glare. She was not just a sacrificial lamb to be used without consent, although she’d happily lure Scanlon back to prison.
“I’d like permission to work on the task force too.” Demarco stared at his bosses.
Novak shook his head, but Ackers appeared to be considering the idea.
“You can take the next few days. We’ll decide later with regards to next week.”
“What if we’re called out on an op?” Novak’s expression was pissed.
“Then Demarco will join his team and be deployed.”
“Thank you, sir. I’d like the chance to find out who attacked us this morning.”
“That’s a priority for everyone in the FBI.” Ackers stroked his mustache. “Operator Demarco can liaise between Mr. Parker’s team, the task force, and HRT. I want twice daily updates. More if there’s a break in the case.”
The meeting ended, but small groups formed to discuss various actionable items. Parched, she grabbed a cup of coffee out of a vending machine. The narrow-eyed stares from Trainer and the head of HRT kept her away from their particular huddle.
“You okay?” Demarco came over to where she stood alone.
“Sure.” She put the brew to her lips and then blew on the scorching liquid that resembled a dirty puddle rather than something humans should consume. “Just made to feel like something Trainer scraped off the bottom of his shoe, but whatever.”
“He was way out of line.”
“Was he?” She wasn’t so sure.
“Yeah, he was. He had no right to question your integrity. You’re a solid agent.”
Emotion hit her in the throat that this man would defend her this way. It was as if he’d forgotten the role he’d played in her heartbreak. The words he’d given her in the plane came back, that he’d walked away out of fear of getting hurt. She’d known it. Of course she’d known it. He’d apologized, and perhaps she needed to put it behind her for now so the two of them could work together to catch Scanlon and then go their separate ways.
“I understand Trainer’s point of view. I’d feel the same way if I were in charge,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t want me anywhere near this case.”
“The two of you have way too many scruples.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles.
“Whereas you have none?”
He smiled. “Just enough to pass the polygraph.”
His smile made her insides quiver, and her heart gave a crazy flip.
Dammit.
Something in her connected with him physically. It always had. It was an unconscious link she was unable to control on the cellular level, but on the organism level? She absolutely could control it. She knew better than to fall for the charm.
“You sure you want to drink that?” He looked concerned.
She sipped the coffee and grimaced. “It’s disgusting.”
They both laughed, and she felt herself slipping back into their old ways. The easy camaraderie, the almost psychic ability to know what the other was thinking.
And look how well that had turned out.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cas suddenly sensed Delilah pulling away and putting up shields, which made him clench his jaw in frustration.
He’d go slow.
Persuade her he’d changed…expect nothing in return.
He needed to concentrate on the danger they both faced and help her however she needed it. Build rapport with her again. Over time make her realize that, despite everything, she could trust him. He’d always have her back.
He cleared his throat feeling like a teen asking a girl on a date. It was how he’d always felt around Delilah. Tongue-tied and inadequate, which he’d hidden under the quiet, tough-guy persona that, unlike most people of his acquaintance, she’d seen through immediately.
“Is it okay if I call or text you at Parker’s house tonight? To keep apprised of the case,” he added quickly.
She shrugged like she didn’t care, and her indifference pierced him like a needle through the heart. “Yeah, but I’m gonna need to find somewhere else to stay.”
He frowned. Was there something wrong with Parker’s place? “You don’t like him?”
“I like him fine and his house is everything you’d expect from a multi-millionaire security expert—”
“Is it the baby?” The jab of pain was unexpected. He’d never expected to be a father, wouldn’t have had the first clue about being one—but to realize what he’d lost, what she’d lost, hit him in a way it hadn’t yesterday when she’d first told him. It felt permanent. Irrevocable. He grieved for what they might have had.
“It is the baby. But not how you think.”
Her brown eyes met his.
“How then?”
She raised those fine brows and almost brought him to his knees. She was the one woman in the world for him. He had no clue how he’d found the strength to leave her behind.
Except, it hadn’t been strength.
It had been cowardice.
And cowardice was easy.
She turned toward him a little, as if they shared a secret. “I’m not putting a baby at risk. I don’t care how many security features Parker has, not when the FBI’s top profiler stated Scanlon won’t stop trying to kill me if he finds out I’m alive.”
Fair point.
He examined the raw scrape on his palm.
Her gaze flew to his when she spotted the shredded skin.
He crossed his arms. He didn’t want her to worry about him. “I’d offer you a room at my place but HRT plans to put cameras around my apartment and on the approach in case Scanlon tries again.” He straightened up. “Hey, maybe we should find a hotel somewhere nearby. Watch each other’s backs?”
She leaned close enough he could smell her shampoo and whispered, “I’m never sleeping with you again, remember?”
He flinched. “This isn’t about that.”
Although he really wanted to sleep with her. To hold her. Now was not the time. “I know you hate me. I understand why. But we used to work well together, before—”
“Yeah, before.” She turned and put the disgusting-looking coffee on a nearby table.
“Look, can we call a truce? That isn’t about forgiveness or friendship. It’s not even the end of the hostilities because I know I earned them. It’s just a temporary cessation of fire until we’ve caught this sonofabitch and put him back behind bars.”
“I know what a truce is.” She sounded irritable and tired.
“How about it?”
Before she could answer Killion came over.
“I have to get back to Camp Peary.” Killion reached out to shake first Delilah’s and then Cas’s hand. “If you need somewhere to regroup or hide out give me a call.” He handed them both a card blank except for a phone number. “I’ll keep in touch with Parker and Frazer, but call me if you need anything in the meantime.”
Delilah put her hands on her hips. “Actually, I’m going to need to figure out some cashflow and my own transportation and somewhere to stay that doesn’t have an infant in the house.”
Killion’s gaze sharpened.
She crossed her arms, looking fierce and beautiful. “The idea of putting anyone else in danger, especially a child…”
“Parker can protect his family,” Killion assured her.
“He shouldn’t have to.”
Alex Parker joined them. He sent her a concerned look. “I heard my name mentioned.”
“Agent Quinn is reluctant to bring trouble to your doorstep.” A smile tugged at Killion’s lips.
Parker’s gray eyes stared at Delilah. Cas couldn’t read the man’s expression which was disconcerting for someone who’d grown up surviving on his wits.
“This isn’t up for discussion.” Delilah held up her hand. “I’m grateful. You’ve been amazingly generous, but I will not bring danger to the home of a couple who have an infant.”
Alex’s gaze narrowed. “While I’m confident I can protect you and my family, I’m also happy not to expose them to risks that can be avoided. I think I may have a solution.” He looked at Killion. “Quentin Savage planned to head to DC and stay at Haley’s place this week before the wedding. He headed up to FBI HQ immediately after the bombing. He’s putting the place on the market soon, but I doubt he’d mind if we borrow it for a few days.”
“That’s a great idea if he’ll go for it,” Killion agreed. “The way Audrey is going I doubt we’ll make the wedding.”
“I’ll get Haley to ask him. She can talk him into almost anything even though he’s the negotiator. I’ll tell him it relates to protecting a potential witness from the bombing.”
Cas rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t like the idea of Agent Quinn staying there without backup.”
“He has a point.” Killion stared blandly at Delilah.
“Things are tight. I could probably spare a bodyguard from the company, but I’d need to check with Haley first.”
“I can do it.” Cas wasn’t about to let someone else protect Delilah, not when he was trained, willing, and able to do so. “Makes sense to stay together given we are both potential targets.”
The three men stared at Delilah expectantly.
He knew he’d positioned himself back into her life without her consent, but he wouldn’t push, and she had called him first, a fact that had probably saved his life. He wanted the chance to pay her back. To make up for some of the misery he’d caused her.
Delilah’s mouth tightened. “Fine.”
It was hardly a ringing endorsement, but it wasn’t a “no.”
“I’ll arrange the delivery of cash, fake ID, vehicle, and anything else you can think of.” Killion pulled on his jacket. “Should be dropped off this evening. Someone text me to confirm Savage’s address.” His phone buzzed. He checked the screen. “Gotta go.”
They watched Killion leave.
“I’m heading to my office. Need a ride?” Alex offered. “I can show you the setup while I wait to hear back from Haley regarding accommodations.”
Mallory Rooney had left already.
“And we should probably get out of here before Trainer’s entourage arrives.”
Cas checked his watch as they headed to the door. “I’m going to borrow a vehicle and go pick up some supplies from my place. I doubt Scanlon is foolish enough to attempt anything else today, but I’ll take some HRT operators with me, just in case.” To prove he was a team player and not about to go rogue.
He frowned at Delilah. “We need to figure out some way to disguise your appearance from the casual observer.”
