Cold Spite (Cold Justice: Most Wanted #5)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

“ D elilah?” His heart banged hard against his ribs. “What the actual fuck?”

“Look.” She hesitated as if unsure of her welcome. “I know I shouldn’t be calling you, but it’s important.”

Her words crushed him. She thought he was angry that she’d contacted him. She didn’t know he’d seen the news or that he was sitting crying in his truck like a baby because of the foolish mistake he’d made all those years ago.

He’d been desperate to protect himself. To wrap his emaciated heart with barbed wire and warning lights to keep it safe. From what?

From happiness? From light and laughter and lust so brilliant he’d thought he’d die every time he looked at her?

He was such a fool.

Such a goddamned fool.

He could hear her breathing on the other end of the line. He gripped the phone tighter as if it were a physical connection to her. “Are you all right?”

“I guess.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I’ve had a hell of a night.”

The despair of fearing this woman was dead had reawakened something inside him. Knowledge—that he’d been an idiot, which was something he already knew. Realization—that he’d never get another chance. And hope—that maybe he still had time to win her back.

She cleared her throat. “Scanlon’s out.”

His eyes widened. He looked in the mirror and dragged his sleeve over his face to mop up the tears. She didn’t need his pathetic weeping. She’d called him for help.

“I think he tried to kill me tonight, but instead murdered my friend, Valerie Strauss—I told you about her. She was staying with me.” Her voice hitched. “He also shot and killed my partner, David Gonzales, at his home.”

Partner?

His mood crashed.

Of course she had a partner.

“I don’t have any proof it was him.” Her voice sounded small and scared as if she thought he wouldn’t believe her. Cas had never heard her sound cowed before. “It’s only a feeling and, well, the fact he’s out and suddenly both my friends are dead…”

“You always had good instincts, Delilah.” His heart still beat too hard under his ribs, but it had settled a little. The fact that motherfucker had been released early shouldn’t surprise him, and yet it did. Sometimes it was as if the prison service and law enforcement were on opposite sides in the fight against crime.

He forced himself to think clearly. “Are you safe?”

“I…” Her voice trembled. “For now.”

He inhaled, searching for the breath he needed to calm himself. Searching for his sniper cool somewhere inside the seething mass of emotions that writhed inside him.

“I might have made a serious mistake,” she admitted.

He could hear her gnawing her bottom lip, something that had always driven him mad with lust, but right now all he cared about was rescuing her from whatever predicament she was involved in.

Him .

Delilah’s hero.

The idea was preposterous .

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

She spoke quickly but haltingly. The words stumbled over one another as she talked him through the events of the evening.

“I should have left the gun and the brass at the scene.” Her breathing was ragged. “I thought?—”

“You did the right thing. In fact, you should get rid of this cell phone because that’s the only thing that can tie you to the scene.”

“Except the murder weapon.” Her words were bitter.

“The slug will most likely be useless for ballistic comparison, and you know it. The only person who knows for certain you weren’t carrying your service weapon when you went for your run this evening is the killer.”

“You think I should lie about what happened?”

She sounded so horrified by the suggestion, and he decided not to point out the fact she’d started this ball rolling when she’d left the scene without calling the cops.

“What’s to be gained from telling the truth? When the FBI or cops eventually ask you what happened, tell them that after the fire, you got into your car and drove.”

“I texted David to say I was coming over.”

David .

He shouldn’t hate a dead man.

“He didn’t reply, and now I know why.” She sniffed.

“So you changed your mind about going over. You suffered a terrible shock. Lost your best friend and your home. You drove aimlessly, not thinking. Eventually you got to the beach and walked for hours.”

There was a tick of silence. Her voice came low and intimate. “How did you know I’m at the beach?”

Because that was her happy place. The place where she liked to think. He said nothing.

“How am I going to explain my disappearing act?”

“Let’s worry about that when we have to.” Even though she was going through her worst nightmare, the words warmed him. The “we” made him feel as if they were allies again. The fact he’d happily take the scraps of anything she offered wasn’t lost on him.

“Ridgeway is going to have my ass.” Agitation shone through her voice. “I’m going to lose my job.”

The way things stood, that was a decided possibility, but he had an idea. “Do you trust me, Delilah?”

She gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t have a lot of choice right now.”

The barb struck flesh.

He cleared his throat. “You were right to do what you did. If Scanlon is on a rampage, then he’ll be moving onto the next target rather than trying for you again.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

It made him feel a hell of a lot better. “It’s the only advantage we have right now.”

“If it’s Scanlon doing this…”

“It’s Scanlon.” The guy had always been an arrogant sonofabitch. Joseph Scanlon had never once considered that Cas might have been a Navy SEAL who’d already hung up his trident. “I’m going to talk to a couple of people I know and see what I can?—”

“No. No! I don’t want you involved.”

What the hell ?

She thought she could go after Scanlon alone? It was so Delilah that for a moment he couldn’t speak.

“I need Killion’s cell number.”

Killion ? Shit. “Why?”

“He’ll have an idea who to talk to in order to get an unofficial task force set up. The number I have for him isn’t working.”

“FBI isn’t big on ‘unofficial,’ and Killion is CIA.”

“I’m aware.” An unfamiliar bite colored her tone. “Killion knows me, and he knows my dad. Hopefully, he will help me do what I need to do.”

“You can’t seriously think about going after Scanlon alone?”

“No. Only if I have to. That bastard murdered two people I care deeply about and wants me dead. I’m not averse to someone else making the arrest, but I want him watched. If we can put together enough evidence to arrest him for these crimes, he won’t be able to hurt anyone else. Going to need phone records and to dig into surveillance cams in the area to see if we can pick him up. What’s he driving nowadays? Any travel records? Maybe someone saw him at one of the scenes. What’s his access to weapons? As an ex-con?—”

“He’ll have an alibi.” Cas knew how to run an investigation even if that wasn’t what he spent much of his time in the FBI doing. Members of the Hostage Rescue Team knew better than most how you had to be prepared to defend every decision made in the field, every bullet fired, in a court of law or on the Hill in front of politicians wanting to score points off one another.

“Which we’ll have to break. Killion will know someone who can help me and maybe even allow me to keep my job when this is all over.”

It stung that she’d rather ask the spook than him.

“I need to know where Scanlon is. I need to talk to the ex-wife and make sure she and the kid are protected, but right now I don’t even have a laptop.”

Cas shifted his focus. “Let me help. I can bring in officials from HRT?—”

“No,” she said sharply. “Not until I have some proof this is actually Scanlon. I don’t want to be the laughingstock of the Bureau if I’m wrong. Right now, I have zero evidence.”

Cas dragged his hand through his too long hair. He needed to stall her. “I can get you Killion’s cell in the morning. It’ll raise too many flags if I try to track it down tonight. You need money?”

The hesitation told him everything.

“Where are you?”

“Better if you don’t know.”

He resented the hell out of that. “Look. I’m going to book a room in that place where we used to meet. You still have that old ID? ”

There was a long pause. “In my go-bag along with my wig. But?—”

“I’ll book it under the fake identity. If they query the ID, say that’s all you have and you lost your wallet.”

“Or my house burned down.” Her laugh was bitter.

“Charge whatever you need to the room. You can pay me back when this is all over.”

She didn’t reply. Too many memories? He’d certainly never gone back. For a self-inflicted wound, it sure was painful to even think about that old grand hotel.

“I’ll make arrangements for cash and a burner cell to be dropped off, in the meantime dump the cell you’re on. I’ll arrange some extra ammo too.” Although, he had no desire for her to get into a firefight with Scanlon, who would be a formidable opponent even after years in prison. “Send me the room number as soon as you get set up there.”

There was a long hesitation, and for a moment, he thought she was going to refuse his aid. To bolt.

“Okay. Thanks. I appreciate the help. Watch your back. Scanlon will probably come after you next.”

“I can look after myself.”

“Huh. Somehow, I knew you were going to say that.”

She hung up on him before he could tell her to stay safe.