Cold Spite (Cold Justice: Most Wanted #5)

Chapter 66

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

D elilah covered her mouth with her hand as the news of Joseph Scanlon’s death was reported to the makeshift Incident Command center Frazer had established—an empty space above a bakery on Main Street, downtown LaCroix.

Killed in front of his seven-year-old daughter.

Delilah couldn’t imagine how the past few days would shape that young child’s life.

Who’d shot him?

Good thing she wasn’t in the field, or she’d be the number one suspect.

Her pulse raced uncomfortably as a headache built. The sun poured through the windows. Relief filled her that Scanlon was no longer a threat. She wasn’t even a little bit sorry he was dead, and that bothered her. When had she lost her empathy?

Perhaps when he’d killed her best friend and FBI partner? Or when he’d murdered Clarence simply to confuse the issue? Or perhaps after the first bomb had almost killed Cas? And she would bet that although Pedro had most likely murdered the admiral and his wife, and Nicole, and kidnapped Delilah’s parents, it had all been Joseph’s idea.

Conversations came in over the radio .

Scanlon was dead but no one knew who’d taken the shot. At least no one was admitting to it. She gnawed her lip. Would Cas have shot Scanlon in cold blood?

To protect her, maybe, but not without a direct threat.

And why bother when they were bringing him in anyway?

Either someone’s finger had slipped on the trigger—unlikely as these guys fired a thousand rounds a week—or someone else had shot Scanlon.

Who?

Maybe someone he’d hurt? Or the cartel in revenge for Pedro Alvarez’s death last night?

Or Pedro’s sister perhaps?

Pressure built inside her skull and pain streaked through her temple. She grimaced as she pressed her fingers against her forehead.

“What’s the situation on the brother and father?” Frazer demanded.

“As far as we can tell, they are both inside the garage. Cell phones haven’t moved.”

Yael had hacked into the feed of a security camera facing the front of the mechanic’s workshop from a laundromat across the street, and no one had gone in or out for the past three hours. It had been Delilah’s job to monitor the feed. It was stiflingly hot in this small office space with a broken AC unit and the inability to open the windows.

“I’m going to buy some painkillers. Anyone want anything?”

Frazer gave her a long assessing look but nodded. “Pick up some coffees and bottled water on the way back. And don’t let the press see you.”

Her survival had not yet been broadcast to the world, and she hoped she’d be allowed to talk to her SAC in San Diego before the information was publicly released. She nodded, relegated to coffee girl, but at least she was here. Still in the FBI.

She grabbed the Nationals ball cap she had yet to return to Meghan Donnelly and headed out the door. She had to wear her jacket to hide her weapon which didn’t help the headache. On the street, she glanced inside the bakery and saw that the place was packed. The coffeeshop was adjacent, although she was pretty sure it was run by the same owner. She’d pick up the drinks Frazer had requested on the way back to save her carrying it too far.

The sun was hot on her skin, and she stood for a moment absorbing it, and the reality that this nightmare was finally over.

She hit the pharmacy and bought both ibuprofen and acetaminophen and washed down the first dose with some ice-cold Coke. Outside the store, she glanced around and realized the bayou flowed just a block over. She headed that way, curious as to what the river looked like and needing some fresh air while the meds kicked in. She gave herself permission to take a few minutes to process everything. She wished she could talk to Cas but didn’t want to disturb him in what was likely to be a fraught and chaotic moment.

She was relieved to get her life back finally. First, she’d tell Val’s mother about her daughter’s tragic death and hopefully expedite the release of her remains so she could be buried. Then she could deal with the frustratingly mind-numbing details regarding the insurance claim on her condo and begin to smooth things over with her boss and colleagues in San Diego.

She stopped short.

Not that she wanted to stay in San Diego anymore, she realized. She wanted to be closer to her parents and, more importantly, she wanted to be close to Cas.

She passed a couple of shrimp boats and pressed her lips together in annoyance when two of the men started to wolf whistle at her. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with them. She took a right at the muddy banks and followed a well-traveled path.

She picked her way past a boat shed, almost tripping over some chicken wire that had been left coiled up across the path.

She knew she was close to the Scanlons’ workshop and didn’t want to get too close. She wondered how they were going to react to the shooting. She wanted to know who’d murdered Scanlon, but that was for someone else to investigate this time.

The noise of a slowing outboard motor and then the sound of someone docking a boat floated over the air. She didn’t want to be seen. She peeked around the corner and there, getting out of a powerboat was Virgil Scanlon.

Shit.

Had he heard about his brother? She didn’t want to deal with him if he had. She didn’t want a confrontation even though she was armed.

Where’d he been?

She hadn’t realized the Scanlons had a boathouse down here. She scooted back and decided to cut through the small parking lot shaded by the massive live oaks whose branches snaked so low and wide she had to duck beneath the bows.

Her cell buzzed with a text, so she decided to give Virgil time to go back to the garage as she waited behind the massive trunk to read it.

Demarco, asking if she was okay.

She sent a thumb’s up in reply. Her headache had started to ease.

You?

She tilted her head to listen to the noises around her. Birds singing. A squeaky old weather vane moving in the slight breeze.

She got another text.

I love you.

She smiled and took a step forward, about to text back but sucked in a shocked breath as she found herself grabbed from behind, a massive hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her scream before it released.

Cas wasn’t allowed anywhere near the body of Joseph Scanlon. Instead, he found himself, along with the other snipers, on a boat driven by one of the Wildlife and Fisheries agents, staring across the water to where Novak and several other FBI and Fisheries agents were removing Melody Scanlon from the scene.

He frowned. “Hey, where are we going?”

“I’m taking you on a shortcut back to LaCroix. It’s not on the map, and it’s easy to get lost out here.” The man glanced at the rifles that had all been put into their respective cases, but otherwise left loaded which was usually a no-no. The rifles themselves would prove HRT hadn’t fired the fatal shot, and the presence of a third-party organization would help verify the chain of evidence.

But who the hell had shot Joseph Scanlon?

It made no sense.

He texted with Delilah. Told her he loved her. The three dots appeared to say she was texting him back, but nothing happened.

Shit.

He waited expectantly, but the dots disappeared.

“What’s up?” Sebastian asked him.

He scowled. “Worried about Delilah.”

“Why would you be worried about Delilah? Joseph Scanlon is dead.”

Cas froze, and the thought that he hadn’t fully been able to grasp finally came into sharp focus. “What if he isn’t?”

“Dude, I saw his brains vaporize.”

“What if the person we saw shot was Virgil? What if Virgil pretended to be Joseph to give his brother time to escape?”

“Cameras showed him giving the press conference then loading everything into his boat and leaving.”

Cas shook his head. “They all went into the house first. What if the brothers switched T-shirts, and Virgil took on the role that he’s probably been playing on and off his whole life?”

Sebastian leaned forward. “In that case who the hell shot Virgil?”

Cas stared hard at his teammate. His suspicions sounded farfetched and yet… “Joseph. He killed him. Steps into his brother’s life, and we all believe the true villain is dead.”

Cas looked at the dancing three dots of Delilah’s text. She must have a lot to say.

But he couldn’t quite shake the thought she might be in danger.

She was with the task force. She was fine. He was being paranoid.

He called Frazer.

“What if Joseph and Virgil swapped places this morning? And Joseph killed his brother to escape justice?”

There was silence on the other end but the listening kind.

“You didn’t shoot him?”

“No, sir.”

“And the other HRT snipers, they didn’t shoot him either?”

“Definitely not.”

“Then I’d say it’s about time we had a chat with whichever brother is at the garage and his father. I was just waiting for Agent Quinn to return?—”

“Return?” Even as Cas said it, he knew Delilah was in trouble. “Find her, Frazer. Get everyone on it and find her.”

He hung up and leaned forward to address the Wildlife Agent. “Gun it.”

“It’s a no wake zone.”

Cas shook his head. “This is life or death. If you don’t want to take responsibility, then stand back because I will.”