Protecting Her Own (Love Inspired Suspense)

by Margaret Daley

  Cara climbed inside the Jeep. “What?”

  “Loneliness.”

  Her father had a ton of friends who he’d worked with over the years. She remembered all the birthday presents piled up on the dining room table before the explosion. But on the short drive to the hotel, she couldn’t shake the possibility of her father being lonely. He’d always come across as though he needed no one in his life to complete it—not even her or her mother.

  At the hotel Connor parked close to the back entrance. “I didn’t see anyone following us so it should be safe. Wait, though, until I open your door.” He exited and scouted the area before rounding the front of his SUV to the passenger side.

  Seconds later they entered the hotel. Cara got a taste of being on the other end of her job. She was the client, Connor the bodyguard.

  The sheriff was waiting in the lobby. “How are you holding up, Cara?”

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “The security guard told me they would put a new door on the room after I processed the scene last night. I’ve got the key.” Sean punched the elevator button, and the doors immediately swished open.

  When they reached the room, Sean said, “It looks like you put up quite a fight.”

  Scanning the scene of the crime as an observer, Cara noted the overturned wastebasket and didn’t even remember hitting it. The bed covers were askew with part of the bedspread on the floor. The desk chair was knocked on its side. A shiver flashed down her spine, causing goose bumps to prick her arms. For a few seconds, she relived the feel of her attacker’s hands on her neck. The suffocating sensation. The fear. The desire to live.

  “Tell us what happened,” Sean said as Connor walked to the window, closed now.

  She vaguely remembered him shutting it when he came back up the fire escape. Now she noticed where the glass had been cut. The intruder must have then reached in and unlocked the window.

  “I woke up with a man on me. He put his hand over my mouth and the other one around my neck. That’s when I started fighting. I managed to get hold of the clock and clobber him a few times with it.” Again the sensation of being choked overwhelmed her until she determinedly shut it down. Nothing would be accomplished by reliving it.

  “Did he say anything?” Connor asked after raising the window.

  She replayed the scene in her mind, this time with her emotions in check. Almost as though she were an observer. “Something about ‘I’d pay for what I did.’”

  “What was he talking about?” Sean walked toward Connor.

  “I punched him in the Adam’s apple. He didn’t appreciate that.”

  “Do you see what I see?” Connor pointed outside.

  Cara covered the distance to them and peered between the two men. A dried, dark splotch marred the metal grid of the landing. Blood? “Do you think it’s the assailant’s?”

  “Maybe,” Sean said, wetting a swab with sterile water before rubbing it across the stain. Then he squeezed a drop from several bottles of solution onto the swab. When the tip of the swab turned pink, he put it in an evidence bag. “This alone couldn’t convict anyone, but it sure would be nice if we can find a DNA match in the system. It’s evidence that puts the person at the hotel.” He climbed through the opening to collect a sample of the dry, red-crusted stain.

  “Any good lawyer would say it could have been left anytime.” Connor shifted around to survey the room again.

  “We had a downpour the other night, which probably narrows the timeline some.” Sean pocketed the evidence. “I’m going down this way. I’ll meet you two below.”

  Cara closed the window, wanting to get out of the room. She’d been involved in some harrowing experiences but she’d never been the intended target.

  “Did you draw blood?” Connor asked from the entrance into the room.

  “I don’t know. It was dark and all I was thinking about was getting away from him. I hit him several times with the alarm clock. That could have bled. I remember striking at his head. Maybe I connected with his face. Bloodied his nose or something.”

  He glanced where the clock would normally sit. “It looks like Sean took it as evidence. I didn’t notice any blood on you. It’s likely he would have had blood on his gloves from wiping at his face.”

  “I didn’t have any, so the blood on the railing might not have been from our guy.”

  Connor stepped out in the hall and waited for Cara. “I can get the sample to our lab, but it’ll be several weeks before we hear back.”

  “Several weeks?”

  “Yeah, and that’s when I call in a favor. There’s a backlog, and it doesn’t happen as fast as it does on TV.”

  Downstairs in the alley next to the hotel, Sean and Connor checked the ground below the fire escape. There were a few cigarette butts and a candy wrapper, which Sean bagged. Connor found a couple of drops of blood and went up the ladder to the second floor where her room was.

  He leaned over the railing and said, “I think I see what happened. A piece of metal on the railing is sticking out, and I think our assailant might have cut himself on it. At least let’s hope so.”

  Connor descended to the ground. He and Sean began to follow the trail of blood down the alley toward the back parking lot. The dried drops led to a parking space in the first row near the alleyway. “This is where the car came from that tried to run me down, so this blood is probably from our guy. I noticed the clock wasn’t in the room. Did you take it for evidence?”

  Sean nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t see any blood on it. It was obvious it had been used in the fight, though, so I’m having the lab check it out.”

  Cara scouted the area, wondering if he was out there watching her right now. The sensation that she was the target chilled her and gave her even more insight into how her clients felt. Had the trophy wife in Nzadi felt this way? Hidden her fear behind a false bravado? Even with her training, Cara couldn’t stem the apprehension enveloping her.

  Connor must have sensed what was going on in her head because he approached her, touching her arm briefly as though to reassure her he was there. “We have a lead. That’s a step forward.”

  She attempted a smile, wishing she could dismiss the anxiety gripping her. She couldn’t. Connor’s help and presence, though, made her feel she wasn’t totally alone in dealing with this. The realization brought her comfort.

  Sean’s cell rang and he answered it. After a minute, he replied, “Good. I’ll tell Connor. He’s here with me.” When he hung up, he turned toward them. “The analysis of the bomb came back. There’s a fingerprint on one of the pipe pieces. Eddie King’s. He owns King Construction Company in Silver Creek. They use blasting powder, too.”

  “Great. I’ll check him out if that’s all right with you after we see Cara’s dad at Sunny Meadows.”

  “Yes, I’m stretched thin as it is with keeping a deputy on C.J. You know how hectic things can get around here near Labor Day. The last fling of summer.”

  “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “I’m sending the evidence to the state lab and will continue tracking down the person who delivered that last present to the door. We’ll talk later.” Sean nodded at Cara and strolled toward his patrol car.

  “Ready, Cara?” Connor withdrew his keys and punched the unlock button. “You don’t know an Eddie King by any chance?”

  “No, but I’d like to see what he looks like. Names can be changed.”

  “So can faces.”

  “Not as easily.” Cara slipped into the passenger seat.

  Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Sunny Meadows. Cara dreaded seeing her father. Her visits only agitated him, reinforcing their prior relationship.

  When she entered the building, the sickly stench of the place roiled her stomach. At least she had a question to ask her dad. What if he knew Eddie King or had some dealings with the man? She hadn’t totally ruled out her father as the main target—not with his ability to anger some powerful people with his investig
ative reporting. Whoever tried to kill her last night might have come after her because she was a witness—and survivor—of the bombing.

  They were both targets.

  FIVE

  At her father’s room Cara came to a stop a few feet inside. Doc Sims finished pressing on her father’s stomach. Her dad grimaced and said something she didn’t understand, but the anger behind the sound was evident. Doc’s gaze swung to hers, concern etched on the man’s face.

  Cara approached Doc. “What’s wrong?”

  He moved a few paces away from the bed and lowered his voice. “I don’t know. This second medicine isn’t agreeing with him, either. I don’t like that yellow tint to his skin, which means his liver is involved. I’m running some tests. He’s complaining of stomach problems and has been nauseated. I’m going to switch to another medication and hope this one works.”

  A guttural sound emitted from her father as he pounded his fist on the bedding next to him. Anger carved deep lines into his gaunt face.

  Cara hurried to him. “Dad? Are you in pain?”

  He shook his head but kept hitting his balled hand into the covers bunched up around him. Another low sound—that could be the word no—came from his mouth.

  Cara tried to touch his arm to calm him down but he knocked her hand away.

  Doc moved in between her and her father. “Maybe you should step outside. Get the nurse.”

  Trembling, Cara did as the doctor asked then waited out in the hallway. She collapsed against the wall and hugged her arms across her front. The stress of yet again being rejected by her dad wrapped about her and squeezed, making her breathing difficult. All she wanted to do was help him. But he couldn’t accept that.

  Connor parked himself next to her while he surveyed the activity going on around them. “I’m sorry, Cara.”

  “What’s happening to Dad? He’d always been difficult, but this is different.”

  “A major dose of frustration?”

  “Maybe. I thought he was making good progress. Learning to use his left hand to write. Even making a few words recognizable when he tried to communicate, especially when he didn’t get upset. When his speech and occupational therapists talked with him, he seemed to understand it would take time to regain his abilities.”

  “This latest setback might be the last straw. The man in there was used to uncovering crime and corruption in many places others weren’t able. He’s the one who broke the case against that CEO for Bakers and Stevens Financial a couple of years ago and that crime syndicate in Maryland was finally taken down because of his investigation.”

  “I know. Just recently he took on a powerful federal judge who had to step down from the bench because of Dad’s story.” Her father had always fought for justice in his own way and helped a lot of people in the process. Why couldn’t their relationship be better? Why was he there for others, but not her?

  “What else has he done this past year? I know Gramps is looking into it, but what do you remember?”

  “The head of that gang in Washington, D.C., was brought to trial for murder, along with his second in command, and this time there should be a conviction. Dad’s informant gave him the information he needed to make that happen.” Cara angled toward Connor, her shoulder cushioned against the wall. “Now you see why I think Dad could still be the target. He’s done a lot to anger some powerful people over his career.”

  “True, and we’re still going to look into his past stories, starting with the most recent ones. But we can’t dismiss the attack on you last night.”

  The door to her father’s room opened, and the older man who had been the family doctor ever since Cara could remember exited. His gaze lit upon her. He stopped in front of her, a frown on his face.

  “I’ve had to sedate him. We’re checking his liver function and we’ll keep a close eye on him. He’ll be out for a while. Why don’t you come back later? Hopefully he’ll be calmer by then. Maybe I’ll have some answers about what’s going on.”

  Cara glanced at the door then at the deputy standing next to it. “Fine. The nurses’ station has my cell if you need to get ahold of me.”

  When she started to walk away, Doc said, “Anger and frustration are something I’ve seen before in cases like this. It’s not that unusual, Cara. Remember, people often strike back at the ones closest to them.”

  Yeah, she’d tried to console herself with that before, but she’d come to the end of her tolerance. She needed more. She would see her father settled in at home with the care he needed, but after that she would leave Clear Branch. Of course, that was after the renovation of the house and once the person who had sent the bomb was caught.

  Doc settled his hand on her shoulder. “It’ll take time for your father to adjust to his limitations.”

  “Limitations? You have known Dad long enough to know he’ll never adjust to anything less than full recovery.”

  “He may have to.” Doc patted her arm. “You’ve done what you can. Let me see what I can come up with.”

  On the way out of the building, Cara fought to boost her spirits, but the sight of her dad shouting and striking the bed played across her mind over and over. She didn’t even realize she’d slowed her pace until Connor peered at her and stopped.

  “Doc will figure out what’s going on and get your dad on the right medication.”

  “He has always been so strong. Seeing him that way is devastating. We never got along well, but I never wanted this for him.” Brick by brick her life was crumbling around her. She didn’t know if she wanted to continue working as a bodyguard. Being around Connor was more difficult than she could imagine. She’d hurt him thirteen years ago. His emotional distance was understandable, but she realized she didn’t want it. She needed to be held, but she wouldn’t ask him. She didn’t know if she could do this alone and that was the most troubling of everything happening.

  He held her hands between them, the slate gray of his eyes mesmerizing as he drew a few inches closer. “I’ll help any way I can. Just let me know what.”

  The tears she needed to shed clogged her throat. She tried to push them back down, but the loneliness her life had become overwhelmed her. “Hold me,” she murmured the words she hadn’t wanted to say to him.

  Without hesitation he pulled her against him, his arms encircling her. Being in his embrace felt as though she’d come home. Memories flooded her, and for a brief moment she wanted to surrender to the past.

  But was that wise with all that was happening? Even before coming to Clear Branch and the explosion, her life had been in an upheaval. She wouldn’t hurt Connor again. She owed him that.

  Backing away from the comfort of his arms, she smiled, only managing to hold it for a second. “Thanks. If I’m going to get my life back, we need to figure out what’s going on, so let’s go talk to Eddie King.”

  His eyelids sweeping down, he turned from her. “I was thinking of leaving you here with your father so that the deputy could protect you both while I went to Silver Creek.”

  “I’m coming with you. I have a stake in this investigation.”

  “I’m taking you with me, but that isn’t the reason.” He strode toward his SUV. “I’m afraid if I leave you here in Clear Branch you’d go off and do something you shouldn’t.”

  She laughed, pointing at herself. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” His gaze captured hers over the roof of his vehicle.

  “Okay, maybe I would have, but I’ll promise you right now that I won’t go off and do my own investigating. If you leave me somewhere, I’ll stay.” She climbed in at the same time he did. “Does that make you feel better?”

  He eyed her, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What have you done with Cara?”

  “She’s in here.” She tapped her chest. “I figure since you’re helping me the least I can do is not cause you any extra worry.”

  His laughter filled the Jeep’s interior. “This is a day for the record books.”

  For a momen
t she joined him, merriment welling up in her and soothing her troubled mind. Connor could always make her laugh. She’d forgotten about that.

  Cara’s silence worried Connor as they drove to King Construction in Silver Creek. If this didn’t pan out, there were other leads; the type of pipe used in the bombing had been sold to several other companies in the state. But this was the nearest one and Eddie King’s fingerprint had been lifted from inside a piece of the pipe. King didn’t have a criminal record; a match had come up in the database because he’d served in the army, so his prints were on record. King Construction had also ordered some blasting powder a few weeks ago. This had to be the source.

  He pulled into the parking space in front of King Construction’s headquarters, a one-story building on the edge of Silver Creek’s downtown. Behind the office was a larger structure that appeared to house equipment and supplies, and a smaller one next to it. Was that where the black powder was kept? It made sense to keep it in a separate building.

  “I noticed you watching the traffic. No one followed us.” Connor switched off his vehicle.

  “It’s a habit of mine. I find myself doing it even when I’m not working.” Her gaze linked with his. “But I’m on a job. If I can’t keep myself safe, then how can I keep anyone else safe?”

  “Maybe Eddie King is the guy and we’ll put this to rest.”

  “My gut says no. I did a search on my phone on the way here, and there are no ties with Dad or me. My father hasn’t investigated the construction industry lately.”

  “It could be someone who works here.”

  “I know. I just don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

  The discouragement in her voice tugged at him. He wanted to reassure her but she was probably right. Some cases just fell into place. This didn’t feel like one of them.

  “Let’s go. You know the drill. Stay in the car until I come around,” he said as he climbed out.

  When he reached the passenger door and opened it, Cara’s tired expression had transformed into an unreadable one, which was often her facade even as a teenager when they were dating. He’d always suspected she’d learned to hide her feelings behind a mask because of her relationship with her father. In the past few days, especially in the parking lot at Sunny Meadows earlier, he’d seen more emotion on her face than usual. The events of the last few days were really taking a toll on Cara, but was there more to her state of mind than having an assailant after her, her father or both of them? He couldn’t shake the feeling there was.