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Cold Blooded
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Cold Blooded
by Toni Anderson
Complete Booklist
COLD JUSTICE SERIES
Cold Blooded (Book #10)
A Cold Dark Promise (Book #9~A Wedding Novella)
Cold Malice (Book #8)
Cold Secrets (Book #7)
Cold Hearted (Book #6)
Cold In The Shadows (Book #5)
Cold Fear (Book #4)
Cold Light of Day (Book #3)
Cold Pursuit (Book #2)
A Cold Dark Place (Book #1)
THE BARKLEY SOUND SERIES
Dark Waters (Book #2)
Dangerous Waters (Book #1)
STAND-ALONE TITLES
The Killing Game
‘HER’ ROMANTIC SUSPENSE SERIES
Her Risk To Take (Novella ~ Book #3)
Her Last Chance (Book #2)
Her Sanctuary (Book #1)
A journalist searching for the truth about her best friend’s death—and an FBI agent who needs her to stop.
Disgraced investigative journalist Pip West is devastated when she discovers her best friend’s body face-down in a tranquil lake. When cops and federal agents determine that her friend overdosed then drowned, Pip knows they’re mistaken and intends to prove it.
Special Agent Hunt Kincaid doesn’t trust journalists and has no patience for Pip’s delusions, especially since her meddling could reveal why the FBI is interested in her friend’s last days. The dead scientist worked at the cutting edge of vaccine research and might have a connection to a new, weaponized, vaccine-resistant anthrax strain that just hit the black market.
Pip is thrown off her game by grief and her unexpected attraction to the handsome federal agent. Hunt battles the same unwelcome pull, determined to resist the heat that threatens to consume them both. But the more Pip digs, the closer she gets to both the sexy FBI agent, and to a bioweapons terrorist who’s more than capable of cold-bloodedly sacrificing anyone who gets in his way.
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Table of Contents
Reader Letter
Cold Justice Series Overview
Acknowledgments
Cold Blooded
Copyright © 2018 Toni Anderson
Kobo Edition
Cover design by Syd Gill / Syd Gill Designs
Print ISBN-13: 9781988812045
Digital ISBN-13: 9781988812052
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact email: [email protected]
For more information on Toni Anderson’s books, sign up for her Newsletter or check out her website (www.toniandersonauthor.com).
This one is dedicated to fiercely talented Romantic Suspense author, Rachel Grant.
She excels at exuberant friendship and superb Chocolate Martinis. Or maybe exuberant Chocolate Martinis and superb friendship?
It all gets a little warm and fuzzy…
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Complete Booklist
About the Book
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Excerpt from A Cold Dark Place
Dear Reader
Cold Justice Series Overview
Her Romantic Suspense Series Overview
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Prologue
He entered the lab, wearing full protective gear. The screeches and rattling of cage bars reassured him the animals were alive. He held his breath as he went around each cage, noting the individual demeanors and facial expressions of the rhesus macaques. He fed them fruit and made sure their water supply was sufficient, noting the bright eyes and interested gazes of these fascinating creatures. Sometimes they appeared so human he had to look away in shame, but not today.
There were no dead monkeys.
A frisson of excitement shot through his nerves. Even more exhilarating, there were no sick monkeys. In all his past experiments, the monkeys who’d been exposed to SAHCAM45-65 had died within twenty-four hours despite being given the vaccine. But this new vaccine worked.
It worked!
Finally.
Finally, he’d figured it out, but he held back the feeling of triumph.
It was the weekend and he’d offered to care for all the animals in the lab which he did periodically when he didn’t want any prying eyes. Officially no experiments were going on, so someone simply needed to feed and check the animals at regular intervals.
He took blood samples then exited the monkey room, showering in his suit before heading into another restricted area. An emergency isolation unit that few knew existed and even fewer could access.
Macaques shared ninety-three percent of their DNA with humans but there was enough difference in the remaining seven percent that more extensive tests needed to be done with the vaccine before it would be declared safe for people to use. Unfortunately, the law prohibited testing efficacy on human beings.
The light above his head buzzed and flickered, making him pause.
He peered through the glass into the shadowy isolation chamber, the small secure room shrouded in darkness. The primate lay on a bed inside a plastic tent, restrained, inert, face averted from the window. It looked dead.
His heart thumped disturbingly hard.
Disappointment? Frustration? Anger?
No one ever said science was easy.
He heaved a great sigh that fogged up the inside of his mask.
It looked dead.
Just like all the other test subjects.
Pushing the despondency aside, he entered the room through a locked, sealed door. The subtle brush of air being drawn into the room felt like an indrawn breath and prevented the escape of any microbes.
The rustle of sheets had him freezing in place. A movement from the bed as t
he creature attempted to sit up almost made him piss his pants.
“Where am I? What happened?” Her voice was small and scared.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my fucking God! It worked. He’d gotten it to work. He wanted to pump his fists but held on to his decorum.
His pulse pounded. This was it. This was it!
“Who are you?” she asked. “Where am I?”
Thankfully she wouldn’t remember anything, this runaway he’d picked up off the street and offered a warm meal. She’d offered to suck his cock in payment but he’d wanted something else. Something far more valuable. He’d brought her here, tranquilized her, infected her and never expected her to live past midnight.
She started to struggle against the restraints as her panic bloomed.
“You’re okay. You’re okay now,” he told her calmly. “You were sick. Very sick but I made you better. You’re going to be just fine.”
He withdrew his hand inside his suit and used a small digital camera to take a short video as proof of life, then stepped forward and picked up another dose of anesthetic, injecting it into the cannula he’d inserted into her vein on Friday night. She stared at the needle but was hopeless to do anything except watch the clear liquid enter her vasculature.
“You’re going to be okay,” he assured her. “Actually, you’re going to be absolutely fantastic.”
She smiled slightly before her eyes drifted shut.
This changed everything.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Everything would be okay. He wouldn’t be a failure anymore.
He took blood samples with clinical efficiency, storing them in small vials that he’d analyze along with the monkey blood. He checked the subject’s pulse. Waited for her heart to slow. Slower and slower until it was barely a murmur. He gave her another dose, just to be certain she wouldn’t wake up again.
He unzipped the plastic tent and removed the cannula, undoing the restraints which clicked open.
He lifted her limp body. She was light, easy to carry. He held her tightly as they entered the chemical shower, getting dowsed and sanitized, turning them so every micrometer of their surface was sterilized. After two minutes the spray stopped. He opened the door into the suiting up room, then placed the girl on a metal gurney while he stripped off and hung up his suit before wheeling her into the next shower station. Once they were thoroughly clean, he dried them both and covered her in two big towels. The biggest danger was bumping into someone unexpectedly so he peeked out into the changing area before he brought the gurney.
No one was here.
And that was why he worked in the middle of the night.
He quickly got dressed and grabbed his belongings. Then he checked the corridor before pushing his precious cargo down to the incinerator. He touched the delicate blue vein of her wrist. Traced his finger over the tip of her nose and across her soft lips. Memorizing her features so he never forgot this moment of triumph.
He placed her inside, trying to be respectful. She was so tiny there was plenty of room.
He closed the door and turned the machine on. It took time to reach 1500 degrees and he made himself wait patiently just as he had with the others, although the others had been hidden inside doubled up amorphous black body bags to contain their deadly cargo of germs. This one posed no danger though he wished he had more time to study her.
Once the incinerator hit the necessary temperature to burn bone, he turned and walked away.
Everything was about to change.
Chapter One
The sound of magazines being snapped into place echoed around the bullpen in a metallic symphony of governmental firepower. Anticipation tightened his gut as he checked his SIG Sauer and backup Glock. FBI Special Agent Hunt Kincaid of the Atlanta Field Office was locked and loaded and ready to party.
Hunt reached down for the arrest and search warrants and handed them over to Agent Mandy Fuller.
“Thank you kindly, Agent Kincaid.” She batted her eyes dramatically as she took the documents. Fuller was blonde and pretty and deceptively sweet looking. She’d been undercover for the past four months and deserved to be the one to put their main suspect in cuffs after the number of times the elected official had fondled her ass.
“My pleasure, Agent Fuller.”
Today was the culmination of a fourteen-month-long investigation into corruption at City Hall. It had been a long and laborious process that involved thousands of hours of stakeouts, surveillance, poring over bank details, electronic communications, and chasing down smaller prey to get them to flip on larger targets—all without the man at the top of their suspect list becoming suspicious. Fuller’s work had produced a cooperating witness, and surveillance had finally garnered enough rock-solid evidence for a judge to sign off on warrants.
Councilor Jim Crowley and four of his lackeys were going down.
Hunt checked his spare ammo and put another three magazines into his vest pocket. He wasn’t expecting trouble but he sure as hell was prepared for it.
His buddy, Agent Will Griffin, came over and gave him a nod. Will was on the Enhanced FBI SWAT team and surreptitiously checked over Fuller’s vest and equipment. Fuller gave her boyfriend a pointed look and the other agent heroically managed to suck back whatever piece of advice he’d stupidly been about to offer.
Hunt and Fuller might currently be assigned to the white-collar crime squad but they were both field agents with extensive experience. SWAT would act only as backup during these arrests.
Fuller headed over to their immediate boss, the Supervisory Special Agent of Atlanta FBI’s White-Collar Crime Unit and showed him the paperwork.
Hunt smirked at Will who stood watching the female agent leave. “Did you want to check my vest, too?”
“I was actually thinking of confirming its bullet resistance capacity.” Will’s teeth flashed in a forced smile that quickly faded. “I used to be okay with Mandy going out there every day, but…”
“That’s what love does to you, pal. Makes you weak.”
Will rolled his eyes at the suggestion, his brown cheeks darkening with heat. He was still in denial about the depth of his feelings but Hunt had seen it before. The guy was toast.
“What does she think of you applying to HRT?”
Will grimaced.
“You didn’t tell her yet?”
“I haven’t found the right moment.”
Hunt snorted. “She’s gonna know as soon as the call goes out. Especially with all this training we’re doing.”
Will stared at him miserably.
Hunt backed off. He didn’t intend to get caught in the middle of the personal lives of two agents he liked and respected, but he for one, had no intention of being caught in the relationship trap.
Eyes on the prize, and that prize was making it into the FBI’s elite Hostage Rescue Team.
The head of his squad shouted across the bullpen. “Time to go.”
Adrenaline spiked through Hunt’s veins as he checked the chamber one last time. Didn’t matter how often he’d arrested people during his five-year tenure with the Bureau. This never got old. He grabbed his raid jacket off the back of his chair. Strode down the corridor toward the stairs of the new field office. Twenty other agents joining them in addition to the SWAT guys. This was gonna be fun.
“Kincaid!”
The strident bellow startled him out of the zone and stopped him in his tracks. He turned.
Shit.
Caleb Bourne, Special Agent in Charge of the FBI Atlanta Field Office, stood yelling down the hallway at him.
Hunt hadn’t realized the SAC even knew his name. Neither did anyone else, judging from the surprised glances people were throwing his way. He didn’t have time for this. Surely the SAC knew what was happening? Suppressing a curse, Hunt broke away from the gang and headed back toward the bullpen.
“Boss?”
SAC Bourne raised his voice at the rest of the team. “You guys are going to have to go on without Kincaid.�
��
What?
Hunt drew in a deep breath and held on to the words that would get him another letter of censure in his file if he didn’t rein it in. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve worked on this case for over a year. I deserve to be on that arrest team.”
“Yes, you do.” Bourne’s cool gaze settled on his face, but the man’s expression didn’t alter. “Unfortunately, it’s not gonna happen. I need you with me.”
The SAC turned on his heel and strode away.
Hunt threw a pissed-off glance at Will who was staring at him open-mouthed with a what-the-fuck expression.
Left with little choice, Hunt followed Bourne, catching up just as the elevator doors opened. He calmed his anger long enough to wonder what the hell was going on. Since when did the SAC run his own errands? Since when did the SAC take an agent away from a potentially dangerous, high-profile takedown where a show of overwhelming force was the best way of making sure the suspects came quietly?
Had Hunt fucked up?
He tried to think of any rules he’d bent lately but came up with nothing.
Dammit, he wanted to see the look on Crowley’s face when Fuller slapped on the cuffs. Wanted to see the fat bastard sweat when he realized the FBI had him on the corruption charges, threatening behavior, abuse of power, RICO counts—
This couldn’t wait a fucking hour?
Hunt kept his mouth shut.
As a former member of the FBI’s Crisis Negotiation Unit, the SAC of the Atlanta office was notorious for using silence to his advantage. Bourne simply stared at people and they started confessing sins he’d had no idea they’d committed. Hunt wasn’t going to blow everything by opening his big mouth. He checked his wristwatch. With luck he might be able to rejoin the team in time to make the arrests.
Hunt strode after the SAC and past curious faces of the assistants and secretaries who helped run this massive field office to the big corner office with a fantastic view of Mercer University campus and surrounding woodlands. A view Hunt had never before had the privilege of seeing.