Cold Spite (Cold Justice: Most Wanted #5)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

D elilah pulled up outside her condo on Palmilla Drive. It was only a thousand square feet, but it had two bedrooms, AC, and two parking stall allocations, one beside the unit and another in a lot to the east of the complex, which came in handy between her Bucar and current lodger. There was also street parking, where her personal vehicle currently resided, somehow relegated to bottom place.

The townhouse wasn’t as close to the ocean as she’d dreamed when she’d won the lottery and gotten the San Diego Field Office as her First Office Assignment, but it was an eleven-minute commute to work and a mere fifteen minutes from the Village of La Jolla with its pale gold beach, eclectic restaurants, and fancy shops. The complex had palm trees and a nice pool. The other residents were quiet and tended to mind their own business.

She’d grown up all over the country but spent most of her formative years in DC and Maryland after her father had been based at FBI HQ. So she didn’t take the good weather for granted. Her parents lived in Virginia now.

She pressed her lips tight together as she thought of them. She needed to schedule a visit. Soon.

She jogged up the steps to her front door. She went to punch in the code, but the handle turned easily under her palm and the door swung open.

She grabbed her mail from the mailbox. “Val?”

“In here.”

“You okay?” It was dim inside except for the TV screen.

“Dandy.” Her best friend, Valerie Strauss, slumped in the armchair watching a rerun of Love Island while inhaling what looked like a gallon tub of potato chips. Delilah’s black FBI ball cap was pulled over the other woman’s long hair which had been dyed brown for a recent stage role. Valerie loved commandeering her stuff, but especially that cap.

The house was a mess, but it was hard to be irritated with her friend for long. Valerie was the person who’d stayed with her, looked after her, and picked up all the broken pieces five years ago.

“How’d it go?” Delilah winced as Valerie crammed another fistful of chips into an already bulging mouth. “That good, huh?”

“Their loss.” Words were barely discernible between crumbs. Valerie had had an audition for a movie earlier that day. “But the good news is…” Valerie twisted in the recliner, covered her mouth with her hand and grinned, eyes sparkling. She chewed some more and wiped her hands and mouth on a piece of paper towel she had on her lap and then took a huge gulp of soda that she’d balanced precariously on the arm of the leather chair. “The really good news is that the flooring guy will be finished by end of day Wednesday and the painter can get in there Thursday. I can move back into my place on the weekend.”

Three months ago, Valerie’s LA apartment had been flooded by a cracked pipe in her upstairs neighbor’s bathroom. As she’d planned to stay with Delilah for eight weeks anyway, during the run of a play she’d starred in here in San Diego, it had made sense for her to crash here. And it hadn’t even been that difficult as Valerie worked evenings and weekends, while Delilah worked mostly dayshifts in the office and at home in the evenings. Not to mention, Valerie had spent the last two weeks on a cruise and had only returned this morning in time for this audition.

But despite the fact Delilah loved Valerie like a sister, she was looking forward to having her own space back.

Maybe that’s why she was so on edge. Perhaps it had nothing to do with Scanlon. Perhaps it was simply the disorder of her usually neat, everything-in-its-place home that made her feel as if she was constantly grinding her teeth. Apparently, she’d grown used to being alone, and it was hard to go back to sharing space. Even on the rare occasions she dated, she rarely brought people into her home.

Delilah smiled. “As much as I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you, that is good news.”

Valerie grinned. She was no fool. “I know. I mean I love you like crazy, but cohabiting is a lot harder now than it was when we were back in college. You’re such a slob.”

They both laughed. Delilah was a little obsessive about everything being in its place, and Valerie was messy as hell.

Valerie tossed a throw pillow straight at Delilah’s chest.

Delilah caught it one handed and tossed it onto the couch because she didn’t want to risk spilling the chips or soda over her favorite recliner.

Neat freak.

“Wanna go out to get dinner to celebrate the good news?” Delilah suggested.

“Sure. My treat. Do I need to change?”

The woman was wearing torn jeans and a white button-up shirt that managed to look both chic and elegant despite the crumbs.

“Maybe lose the cap.”

“But I like the cap. You have the right to remain silent.” Valerie waggled her index finger without looking away from the TV. “Lemme watch the end of this episode, and then I’m pretty much ready to go. ”

Delilah checked her watch. “No rush. I want to get in a quick run as I missed it this morning. Wanna join me?”

Valerie groaned and shook her head.

Delilah grinned. “How about we go to that restaurant on the beach? I think it’s open on a Monday night. Should be quiet.”

“I love that place.”

Delilah went into her bedroom and put her weapons on the dresser, stripped off her suit, hanging it carefully before tossing the shirt, and underwear into a hamper in the corner. She needed to do laundry and visit the dry cleaners this week. She pulled on black leggings, running top, and her favorite lightweight gray camo moto jacket. Then she sat on the bed to lace her bright yellow/orange striped running shoes. She placed her smaller backup Glock 26 inside a sticky holster in one of the concealed pockets on the hip of her pants.

She slid creds and a slim card holder which contained a credit card, debit, her driver’s license and an emergency hundred dollars in cash into her zippered jacket pocket. Her dad had taught her the value of being prepared from an early age, and it had served her well as an agent. Out of necessity, her work cell went into the other pocket but she decided to leave her personal cell behind beside her Glock 23. She headed back into the kitchen and noted it was full dark now. She debated taking a water bottle but decided against it. She wouldn’t be gone long. Instead, she grabbed a large glass of cold water, chugged it down, and left the glass by the sink beside a dirty plate and mug.

Her fists curled but she resisted putting them in the dishwasher.

See .

She knew how to let things go.

“Back in thirty minutes.” She snagged Valerie’s pink ball cap off the hook by the door and dragged it over her head, drawing her hair through the notch in the back.

“I’ll be here.” Valerie leaned over the arm of the chair to wave goodbye. “Unemployed, old, fat, aspiring actress. ”

Delilah rolled her eyes and headed out into the evening. Valerie ate like a frat boy and never put on weight. She should hate her for that alone.

But being overly dramatic was part of Valerie’s charm, especially when she didn’t take herself too seriously. Delilah was convinced her friend was going to breakout in the role of a lifetime soon. And she would be cheering her on every step of the way.

Outside, the air was fresh with just the hint of incoming rain. Normally she’d head due south to Rose Canyon Open Space Park, but as it was already pitch black, she decided to stick to the lit sidewalks. She cut north along a path between the buildings.

She ran for five minutes but like everything else today, couldn’t find her rhythm.

Her breath felt tight. Her gait was off.

As an FBI Special Agent, she was expected to maintain a certain level of fitness and running had always been something that came easily to her. Maybe she was getting old.

Frustrated, she stopped and stretched the way she should have before she set off. She did a series of side lunges followed by glute and piriformis stretches, and arm swings, feeling slightly ridiculous, but this was California, and runners littered the streets. After a few minutes, she began running again, finally hitting her stride.

She pounded the pavement and increased her speed, pushing herself because she only had time for a short run so she may as well make it count.

She dodged a large garbage bin that had been left out and glanced across at a dog who jumped up against the fence barking, setting off a neighborhood canine chorus which felt strangely reassuring.

The cool air felt crisp against her face and body as sweat pooled under her arms and between her breasts. She checked her watch, upping her pace again. That feeling that something wasn’t right continued to plague her, and she patted her hand to her weapon to reassure herself, but there was nothing out there except the night.

Turning the corner, she headed for home.