Free A Rush of Wings by Adrian Phoenix Page B

unknot. She drew in a deep breath, then slowly released it as relief leeched her strength and left her weak-limbed.
    She caught Dante’s shaded gaze, or thought she did, anyway, and shook her head. Don’t move. No more stupidity . He remained braced in the doorway, body coiled. She could almost smell the adrenaline and fury that radiated from him. And testosterone. Don’t forget that . With all the males in the room, the air crackled with it.
    Heather turned to Jefferson. “What the hell were you doing?”
    Jefferson met her gaze, opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked down.
    “Protecting his partner, Agent Wallace,” LaRousse cut in. “Or don’t y’all do that in the Bureau? Here, we do whatever’s necessary.”
    Heather closed her eyes for a second, then turned. LaRousse knelt beside Manning, one hand on the cop’s shoulder.
    “Prejean was unarmed,” she said, voice tight. “There was no need for deadly force. And you know it.”
    LaRousse snorted. Shook his head. He helped Manning to his feet.
    “Take him to the emergency room,” LaRousse said to Jefferson. “And write a detailed report.”
    “I’m fine,” Manning said, face flushed. “Christ!”
    Jefferson slipped an arm around his partner and walked the protesting Manning to the doorway. Dante still stood there, hands braced. A wry smile tilted up one corner of Dante’s mouth. Lowering his hands, he stepped inside the room.
    “ Je va te voir plus tard ,” he said to Jefferson.
    All color drained from Jefferson’s face. “I don’t know none of that Cajun talk,” he stammered. Pushing Manning through the doorway, Jefferson hurried into the hall.
    Heather blew loose strands of her hair from her face and glared at Dante. “You weren’t kidding about that problem with cooperation, were you?”
    “He told Jefferson he’d see him later,” LaRousse said. “Sounds like a threat.”
    “No threat,” Dante said. “Just bound to happen.”
    Swiveling to face LaRousse, Heather said, “Prejean is not a player. I think he needs to be placed in protective custody.”
    “No thanks,” Dante said. “And my name ain’t Prejean.”
    “Shut up,” Heather said. “You’re not helping.”
    “Oh, he’ll be placed in protective custody, all right,” LaRousse said, a tight smile thinning his lips. “In jail. For assaulting an officer and resisting arrest.”
    “Let’s get things straight right now, LaRousse,” Heather said, stepping closer to the detective, muscles tight, hands clenched. “ I’m in charge of this investigation—”
    LaRousse leaned in and met her head-on. “That’s where you’re wrong, Agent Wallace,” he said. “You’re not in charge. You’re consulting . Hell, you haven’t told us whether or not the damned Cross-Country Killer is even here.”
    LaRousse’s words hit Heather like an open-handed slap. Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t look away or back down. Her nails dug into her palms.
    “I’m waiting for DNA confirmation,” she said, keeping her voice level.
    “Even if he is here and you’re put in charge, I wouldn’t give a flying fuck,” LaRousse said. “That prick ”—he stabbed a finger in Dante’s direction—“assaulted one of my officers.”
    Still holding Heather’s gaze, LaRousse called, “Davis, cuff that piece of street trash and hand him over to the uniforms downstairs.”
    “We’re not finished,” Heather said, voice low, and turned around.
    Davis approached Dante cautiously, handcuffs held loose in one hand. “Take it easy,” he murmured, a man gentling a growling dog. “Don’t have to be hard. We can do this easy.”
    Dante’s wary face and coiled body spelled hard in a big way.
    Look, we don’t have to do this the hard way .
    It’s the only way I know .
    “Wait. Back off,” Heather said. “ I’ll cuff him.”
    Hands lifted in a gesture of surrender, his gaze still locked on Dante, Davis said, “Fine. He’s all yours.”
    Well aware that LaRousse watched her