“Stop it!” Anger welled up in her and spewed from her mouth as she continued, “Do you really want to know what’s going on? Right before going on assignment to Nzadi, I’d been camped out in Dad’s room at the hospital before he was moved to Sunny Meadows, or at least I was for a time until he made it clear he didn’t want me there. I shouldn’t have taken that assignment. I wasn’t at my best.”
“When are you going to let the past go? When are you going to quit letting your father rule your life?”
Tears flooded her eyes. She looked away, not wanting Connor to see them because there was more to the story and he would be perceptive enough to know that. The trophy wife reminded Cara a lot of her mother. The more she had been around the woman the more she saw her mom, trying to please a man who didn’t have time for her. At times she’d seen the same desperation in her client’s eyes as she had in her mother’s.
He reached over and drew her head around until his gaze roped hers. He started to say something.
She yanked back, away from his touch. “You grew up in a loving home. I didn’t. Half the time my mother was an alcoholic basket case, and the other half I was so busy trying to please my dad, I forgot how to please myself. Your childhood was perfect while let’s just say mine wasn’t worth repeating.”
“Perfect? My father died when I was twelve.”
“But you had your grandfather and mother. They were there for you all the time. I would have given anything to have someone like Mike in my life.” Without waiting for him, she shoved open the door and quickly got out. “I see the contractor is here,” she mumbled as she hurried toward the front porch.
The whole way across the yard she swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. In the past she’d always been able to shut a lid on these kinds of emotions. Why not now? Especially in front of Connor?
The sound of Connor’s door slamming carried to her on the porch. She kept her back to him while she composed herself. When she swept around to greet the contractor, she pasted a smile on her mouth, needing to get this house put back together as quickly as possible. Once she did that and the assailant was found, she could get her father settled in his home, then she could leave with a clear conscious. She would have done her duty as a daughter. No regrets.
But she realized she had a lot of regrets. Glancing at Connor, she wished things had been different between them. She wished she had been a different person thirteen years ago.
Later that evening in Connor’s grandfather’s kitchen, Mike held up the pot on the stove. “Coffee, anyone?”
“I’m good, Gramps.”
“Me, too.” Cara nursed her caffeine-free iced tea.
Sean lifted his mug. “Not me. Fill it up. This may be another long night.” After his cup was refilled, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. “So, where do we stand now?”
Mike shuffled back to the table and sat between Connor and Cara. “I checked out that list of people you helped put in prison. Your boss lady was right. Tom Phillips is the only one out of prison, and from what I’ve been able to gather on him, he has been in a small town on the border of Oklahoma and Texas. I made a few calls and discovered he hasn’t taken any trips lately. He’s shown up for work every day. I think we can rule him out. I can’t see him even paying someone to do you in. He’s barely making ends meet.”
“From what Kyra said, the three men don’t appear to be involved in what’s happening here.” Talking with her employer earlier only reinforced her need to decide what she was going to do about her job. Did she want to be responsible for another human being anymore? The satisfaction of a job well done battled with the incident in Nzadi.
“Anyone else who could be after you?” Connor asked in his professional voice.
Ever since their conversation that morning in her driveway, their relationship had been purely a business one, as though they had never dated and loved each other. While her practical side applauded that, deep down she wasn’t thrilled. “Not that I can come up with.”
“No one in Nzadi?”
The question surprised her. She gritted her teeth and glared at Connor.
Mike perked up, glancing between Connor and her. “Nzadi? Wasn’t that the country that barely avoided a revolution lately? You were there? When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“I understand Americans and other foreigners were asked to leave.” Mike took a sip of his coffee.
“Yes, we were. I don’t think anyone from Nzadi is involved. It’s a poor country, barely hanging on right now.” She narrowed her eyes to needle points, hoping Connor got the message. She didn’t want to talk about it.
“It needs to be checked out, Cara. I know you don’t want to discuss it, but there were some people in that country who were very angry with you whether they had a right to be or not.”
She pushed to her feet, her hands gripping the table’s edge as she bent forward. “The people I saw were nameless—just part of a crowd at the café and later as we traveled to the airport.” She spun around and marched to the refrigerator to top off her iced tea—anything to get away from Connor for a few minutes.
“How about the president of Nzadi? He’s had a hard time bringing his people under control since that incident at the café, and from what I understand, he isn’t poor.”
When Cara pivoted, clutching her cold glass that did nothing to cool her temper, she noticed Sean and Mike looking at her as though they were eavesdropping on a conversation that they’d accidentally stumbled into. “No, he’s occupied at the moment. Besides, as you mentioned earlier, I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger. I imagine he’s trying to find that person.” She covered the space to the table and slid into her chair again. “Mike, did you check into Dad’s stories for the past year? Any that send up red flags?”
Connor’s grandfather shoved a stack of papers toward her. “I printed these. They’re the big stories your dad was involved in. The last one was about the Black Serpent Gang. The one before that a federal judge. Rumor has it right before his stroke your dad was working on a piece about an interstate trucking firm. Read all of them and see what y’all think.”
“This will be my bedtime reading.” Cara tapped the top of the one-inch thick pile.
“Gramps, what have you come up with concerning the employees of King Construction?” Connor asked, taking part of the papers from the stack.
“I haven’t found any ties with Cara or her dad. As you can see, I’ve listed the stories he’s done in the past few years, and there isn’t a connection to King Construction. There was a series of articles ten years ago concerning the construction industry and some irregularities. He targeted several big firms in the state and Washington, D.C., area, but no one who works for King Construction was involved—that I can find.”
“Keep digging, Gramps. That’s where the pipe and blasting powder came from. I suppose it could be someone off the street, but I have a feeling there’s a link between someone at the company and the person who sent the bomb. I have my partner in Richmond looking into any criminal backgrounds of the employees.”
“You don’t think the actual person who made the bomb works for King Construction?” Sean asked.
Connor shook his head. “Probably not. Everyone has an alibi for the night that Cara was attacked except the receptionist who was home alone, but we know it wasn’t a woman. And there was another guy, but he doesn’t fit the physical description of Cara’s attacker. Sean, did you find out who delivered the last package right before the bomb went off?”
Sean lifted his mug to his mouth. “None of the delivery services have a record of the package. Cara, are you sure you don’t remember what the man looked like?”
“Other than the vague description I gave you, no. His ball cap was pulled down low and he had on sunglasses. No beard, but that can be changed if you want to disguise yourself. If it was the man, I can’t see him delivering the package himself without disguising himself.”
Connor chuckled.
“Thankfully, not all criminals are smart. And your description of the deliveryman fits the one who attacked you. The same medium build—about Cara’s height, one hundred sixty or seventy pounds, blond hair.”
“That fits a lot of men.” Cara relaxed her tensed muscles.
“I do have one other company to check out that comes from Winchester occasionally. I’ll contact them tomorrow.” Sean downed the rest of his coffee.
“So where does this leave us?” Cara lounged back in the hard latticed chair, trying not to show her disappointment in the lack of leads.
But she must have because Mike covered her hand with his. “We’re gonna catch this guy. We aren’t gonna let anything happen to you or your father. What did Doc say about your dad when you went back this afternoon?”
“The tests didn’t tell him what he didn’t already know. Dad’s liver has been damaged. He continues to be sick to his stomach. Doc is ordering more tests to be done tomorrow. If nothing shows up, he’s calling in a friend to consult with him. He might have to move him back to the hospital in Silver Creek.” Her father was still upset and the sight of her seemed to trigger his temper even more than if she wasn’t there. “I’ve asked the nurses to keep me informed if he gets worse or better.” To have to watch from afar, not to be able to offer comfort to her dad hurt. As usual, he wanted to fight his battles alone.
“I’ll pray for him tonight.” Mike squeezed her hand, then rose. “I’m going to hit the sack. I want to start fresh tomorrow morning on the computer. I’ve got a feeling something is gonna happen soon.”
So did she, but was it the assailant making another move or them discovering who was behind the bombing? “Good night, Mike. Thanks for all you’re doing.”
At the door he cocked a smile at her. “Anything for you.” Then he gave her a wink and left the kitchen.
“That’s my cue to leave, too.” Sean took his mug to the sink. “I can find my own way out. Talk to you two tomorrow after I check with the delivery company in Winchester.”
Connor followed the sheriff to the door to lock up. When he returned, Cara stared down at her glass of tea. “What do we do next? We’ve hit dead ends.”
“Not totally. At the moment it’s looking like your father may be the primary target, but we can’t rule you out completely. If it is your father, then why did the man come to your hotel room and attack you?”
“I’ve thought about that. Maybe he thinks I know something. Maybe he was the one who delivered the package and he thinks I can ID him now.”
“That could be it. If that is the case, anything you can remember about the guy will be a big help.”
She massaged her fingertips into her forehead. “I’m trying. I wasn’t in bodyguard mode that day.”
Rising, he took her glass and his cup to the sink. “Don’t force it. It’ll come. Probably when you’ve gotten some rest.” He came back to her and offered her his hand. “Come on. We both could use a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow might be a better day. Maybe I’ll get the DNA results back on the blood we found and we can find a match in the database. I’ve been pressuring the lab about this one.”
“I’d feel more optimistic if it was a fingerprint, but the man wore gloves.”
“I know it’s a long shot, but it will help convict him when we do find him.” He drew her up. Instead of moving away, he stepped closer and slipped his hands through her short hair to cradle her head. “Tonight, you’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you in Gramps’s home. Sleep knowing that.”
The fierce, protective ring to his words flowed through her, fanning over every inch of her as though he cherished her. Memories of how they had once been rushed into her mind, tangling with that feeling. The sight of his lips so close ignited all those buried emotions she’d had as a teenager. She could fall in love with him so easily. Not a good time. She was too vulnerable.
But she didn’t care. She was too tired to fight her feelings for Connor right now. At one time he had loved her unconditionally. What a heady thought to someone who had always felt there were conditions attached to any love shown to her by her parents.
She lifted her arms and encircled his neck, hauling him toward her. His mouth settled over hers, whisking away all doubts. For this moment she was his again. She savored the taste of him, the hint of peppermint toothpaste and coffee. He embraced her, crushing her against him as he deepened the kiss, claiming a part of her that she’d only given to him—her heart.
“Connor” slipped from her mouth, a raw utterance laced with the loneliness her life had become.
He pulled back, his gaze latching on to hers. Then it slowly traveled to her mouth and stayed there for a long moment. Finally he blinked, shook his head and stepped away, his arms falling to his sides.
“What are we doing?” Bemusement laced each of his words.
“The last time I checked we were kissing.” And he was as good as he ever was.
He pivoted away. “Not smart. We’ve been through all that once and it didn’t work out. I don’t make the same mistake twice.”
She wasn’t going to let him ruin what they had just shared. “Just because it didn’t in the past doesn’t mean it can’t now.” The declaration rushed from her lips as though her heart had overruled her mind. “I’m not the same person.” Could she risk her heart with Connor? Would it be different for them this time?
“Exactly.” His hands curled into fists as he panned the kitchen as if searching for an escape.
“And neither are you.”
His gaze slammed back into hers. “Exactly, again. We can’t pick up where we left off. Too much has happened for that to work.”
“Has it?”
“Can you tell me you are ready to settle down in one place? Can you tell me you know what you want?”
“I can’t,” she murmured, frustrated with herself and him. “So much has been happening lately, how can I?” The admission made her realize she’d been dreaming a few minutes ago. Her experiences shouted to her that she couldn’t risk her heart.
“My point. You don’t know, and I do know where I’m going. I made the mistake long ago of falling in love with you when you were wrestling with the same issue. When you came to a decision, I wasn’t part of it. I won’t do that again.” He started for the doorway. “I will protect you. I’ll find out who is after you and your dad. But—” he paused in the entrance “—I won’t fall in love with you again.” He uncurled his hands then balled them almost immediately. “I’m rechecking the locks. Good night.”
Why were they destined to know each other only during times of emotional upheaval for her? Because it was tied to Clear Branch. Maybe things would have been different if they had met somewhere else. At least this time when they parted, she wanted to part friends. With a sigh, she grabbed the stack of papers to read and made her way to her bedroom downstairs.
Lord, if You’re still listening to me, please let tomorrow be a better day. Show me what to do to help Dad. How do I get through to him?
Cara stepped outside her father’s room at the nursing home/rehabilitation center the next afternoon to talk to Connor, who’d trailed her there. “Look, I’m perfectly safe here at Sunny Meadows. Dad has been calmly responding to my presence for the first time since I’ve been here. I don’t want to leave. You go question the deliveryman in Winchester. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us something. At least we now know the guy who attacked me wasn’t the man at my door. It might not have even been that package that had the pipe bomb in it.”
“You’re sure you’re safe here?”
She gestured toward the deputy sitting in a chair near the door to her father’s room. “Yes, I’m sure. The perpetrator isn’t going to try anything with all these people around.” She was ready for some time away from Connor and his silence. Although they had been together most of the morning, other than discussing the DNA results, which hadn’t matched any in the system, they hadn’t said much at all to each other. She needed a break, and she suspected Connor felt th
at way, too.
He stared at her for a moment. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Take your time. I’m determined to stay put whether Dad gets upset or not. I’ve come to the decision he’s stuck with me, and he needs to come to terms with that fact.”
Connor’s mouth lifted in a half grin. “He doesn’t have a chance then.”
When he left, swinging around at the end of the hallway to look back at her, her pulse rate reacted by accelerating. He nodded once then disappeared around the corner. It was going to take all her willpower to keep away from him. Yet she knew she should. She owed him that much. She’d hurt him once and wouldn’t do it again.
Back inside her father’s room, she returned to the chair near his bed. He rolled his head toward her. He didn’t smile but didn’t frown, either. An improvement. She would take any little bit she could get. She eyed the magazine on his bedside table. “Do you want me to continue reading the article from Global?”
He struggled to form a word, which came out a pretty clear “No.” Reaching with his left hand, he tried to get the plastic cup of apple juice.
The urge to help him inundated her, but she remained seated, letting him do it for himself. He grasped the drink and slowly brought it to his mouth, his arm trembling. All she wanted to do was take the cup from him and lift it to his lips. That would be the worst thing she could do. When he went to replace it on the table, she held her breath, hoping he made it. Earlier he’d spilled it on the floor. Upset with himself, he’d retreated from her for over an hour. But he hadn’t gotten openly angry.
With his mission completed successfully this time, her father relaxed back on the pillows. A look of satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “Tir—ed.” He labored over each sound, but his gaze brightened, pleased at what he’d said.
“I’d be tired, too. You’ve had a lot going on lately. Hopefully Doc will know more after the results come back on the tests taken this morning. Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?”
Protecting Her Own (Love Inspired Suspense) Page 9