Protecting Her Own (Love Inspired Suspense)

by Margaret Daley

  “That’s a good question, Gramps. There must be something we’re not seeing. What we’re doing isn’t getting us anywhere, and she isn’t saying anything to help us. I’ll have the CID in that area look into it tomorrow.”

  With her elbow on the table, Cara settled her chin in her palm. “Why did she tell you she hadn’t signed up to kill me, just Dad, then go quiet? Not another word after that. Even when a deal was offered.”

  “Another good question. One I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

  “Could be regret.” Mike began typing again while he talked. “Or she finally listened to her lawyer.”

  “A moment of regret that she regretted?” Connor shook his head and kneaded his neck muscles. “I don’t know. There’s something hard about this woman. At first glance, she seems young, not too smart, but my gut says otherwise.”

  Cara cocked her head. “Gramps is right. Why would she admit involvement in the first place, then not cut a deal?”

  “Something has her scared.” Connor retook his seat.

  “Or something more powerful is motivating her.” Cara’s gaze trapped Connor’s.

  Silence ruled for several minutes until Mike closed the laptop and rose.

  “I think we have a good list to start with tomorrow morning bright and early. In order for that to happen, I’m turning in. These old bones don’t rally as fast as they used to.” Mike shuffled toward the kitchen door. “Got to get my beauty sleep. Good night.”

  Cara caught a glimpse of Mike leaving, but Connor’s gaze still held hers. Her heartbeat slowed to a throb. He had a knack of stripping away everything except him with just a look.

  “Earlier, I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do as much as trying to show you I care what happens to you. Whether you like it or not, this situation has gotten to you, especially on top of the incident in Nzadi. I worry about you.” Connor leaned forward and brushed his forefingers under her eyes. “You need to take care of yourself or you won’t be any good to your father.”

  In the past when people began planning her life and telling her what she needed to do, she’d pulled away and gone on the offense. Now she wanted to lean into his touch, draw strength from him to get through the next day. The feeling petrified her. His worry and kindness were undermining her resolve to stay away from him emotionally. Was this because of what was going on in her life, or something much more—a readiness to change her life completely?

  When she tried to think of an answer to that question, her mind went blank, as though it was on overload and couldn’t take on another problem to solve. The caring in his eyes pinned her to her chair even though her first urge was to bolt to her room.

  “I know,” she finally murmured through parched lips. “Just so you know, being here has helped with my sleeping. I think I got a good six hours last night. Better than some of the nights since coming to Clear Branch.”

  One corner of his mouth hitched up in a half smile while his expression gentled to something akin to how he’d looked at her when they’d dated. “I’m glad to hear that. And I realize this isn’t a good time for you and me to discuss what’s really happening here between us, but we’ll need to when this is over. Promise me when we catch this guy you won’t leave without saying goodbye this time.”

  “I deserved that. Believe me, I’ve regretted how I dealt with our relationship all those years ago. I’ll be sticking around until I get Dad settled—at least a few weeks until the house is completed.”

  “What about your job?”

  “Kyra is a wonderful employer. She understands about family and commitments. Besides, I have a lot of vacation time accumulated.”

  He sat back, giving her some breathing room. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who doesn’t take vacations and works all the time.”

  “Yep. How about you?”

  “Guilty. Usually the only vacations I’ve taken involve coming back here, and I usually end up working around the place for Gramps.”

  “And this time you got caught up in this case.”

  “Which is now a job for me. No vacation time being used. Just in case you’re worried, the governor personally asked me to get to the bottom of this. According to the governor, he owes your dad. He only had good things to say about C.J.’s work.”

  Cara peered at the drawn shades; no light leaked through. “I know my father has done a lot of good in this world. He hates corruption and crime. All the time I grew up, he told me over and over that his life was going to count for something. He was going to leave this world a better place—one criminal at a time.”

  “Sorta like what I think.”

  “Yeah, you’d think you two would have a lot in common.”

  “That was the problem. We had too much in common. You.” His smile became full-fledged. “Remember at that time I hadn’t decided to go back to college and get my degree in criminal justice. How about you? Why did you become a reporter, then a bodyguard?”

  “I’d say for the same reasons, but that’s not it entirely. I became a reporter because my dad wanted me to be. And for a while it was all right. It was exciting. I was making the world a better place.”

  “Did it bring you closer to your father?”

  His question hovered in the air between them. Cara thought back to those eight years of covering news, breaking stories—some in rough places that most people never saw. The assignments toughened her, changed her. “No. We hardly saw each other. I’d talk to him occasionally after I appeared on national TV with a story. He wanted to micro manage my life by insisting I go into ‘real’ journalistic reporting. He didn’t want me to be a reporter for television news—only for print. I balked at that. It caused a rift between us, and then when I quit altogether, he was furious and said I was a quitter.” She sighed, collapsing back against the chair. “That’s when I realized I’d never please him and stopped trying. I met Kyra Morgan through an associate I’d worked with. Her female bodyguard agency intrigued me. After some extra training, I went to work for her.”

  “But something is wrong now?”

  “I’m good at my job. I’ve helped a lot of people, especially women, feel safer during a difficult time in their lives, but this last assignment may be my last one.” Cara yawned, covering her mouth.

  “Then what do you want to do? Go back to reporting? There are probably some places you haven’t seen yet.”

  “Always traveling can get old after a while. I still love to see new places but maybe not all the time.”

  “Are you leaving your job because of Nzadi? You have no reason to feel responsible for what happened there. What’s really behind the guilt you’ve been wrestling with?”

  Cara pressed her fingertips into her temples and massaged them. “You’re asking some tough questions of a gal who is tired.”

  “You don’t have to answer. I’m just interested. I sense coming home has brought a lot of things to the surface for you.”

  “Some of my choices in life have hurt others. You, my mother, even that woman in Nzadi.”

  A shutter fell over his expression. “I’m over it. I survived.” He leaned closer, intent. “But what about your mother? You never talked much about her death when you came home from college. I thought over time you would, but you didn’t. You acted like you had put it behind you.”

  “More like buried it. I know the report said it was an accidental overdose, but I feel she committed suicide. I think she starting drinking, which she was doing more and more, and got depressed and decided to end it all by taking sleeping pills.” She peered into his eyes. “I wasn’t here for her when she needed someone. Dad wasn’t here for her.”

  “So you blame yourself and your dad for her death. If it wasn’t an accident, Cara, she chose to kill herself rather than get help. I know you tried to get her to go to AA, but she wouldn’t. I know you spent your high school years being there for her. Sometimes we can’t change others and have to accept that. Pray for them, yes. Love them, yes. Even help them as much as they wil
l let you. But we don’t have to take on their problems as our own.” He reached up and brushed his hand down her jawline. “Guilt can be a good thing at times, but it can also destroy a person when not dealt with and allowed to overshadow your life.”

  The feel of his fingertips caressing her face nearly undid her. Her throat crammed with tears. “But maybe I could have stopped her.”

  “And then what if she wouldn’t get help? Yes, you might have been able to prevent her death that time, but what about the next one or the one after that? Were you going to be around 24/7 guarding her from herself? Have you ever considered that your mother’s problems were more than just your dad not being around? There are always two sides to an issue. Maybe when your father is better, you need to have a conversation with him about what happened when you were growing up.”

  She had tried as a teenager but had never found the right words. Once her mother had died, she’d stopped trying to reach him. Tears she hadn’t shed since her mother’s death welled to the surface and spilled down her cheeks.

  Immediately Connor drew her into his embrace and held her tight against him while she let the pain from her past flow from her. The shelter of his arms calmed her as though she’d finally come home—at least for now.

  When she could cry no more, she looked up at him through glistening eyes and memorized the tender expression on his face. “I realized recently I had some soul-searching to do. That it was time to stop running from my past. It was time to come to terms with my father and try to build some kind of relationship between us if possible. Only in the last day or so did I even think I had a chance to do that with him.”

  He cradled her face between his large hands. “It sounds like you’ve got some thinking to do. Let God help.”

  “Yes.” Connor’s advice felt right. She couldn’t do this alone anymore. She needed help. “Thanks for listening to me.”

  “Anytime.” He rose and pulled her to her feet. “C’mon. I’ll walk you to your room before I make sure the house is locked up.”

  Stifling another yawn, she said, “That’s okay. Go ahead and check. I think I can find my way.”

  He opened his mouth to say something but closed it almost immediately.

  “Good night.”

  Cara trudged from the kitchen, barely lifting her feet from the floor.

  In her room across from her dad’s downstairs, she sank onto the bed and stared at the oval, multicolored rug. After talking with Connor this evening, she knew one thing. Protecting her father was her last bodyguard job. She needed to make a change in her life. But the question that plagued her was what.

  Her college degree was in journalism, but as she told Connor, she didn’t want to do what her dad had done. After five years of being a reporter, she’d realized that but had stayed in the business for three more years because she’d still been trying to get her father’s approval. That wasn’t going to happen, and slowly she was coming to accept that. She didn’t need his approval. But she still wanted to figure out what she needed.

  Her gaze swept around the room and lit upon the Bible sitting on the dresser. Where had that come from? It hadn’t been here this morning.

  Mike.

  He caught her in a vulnerable mood after they had returned from her childhood home. Connor had been on the phone talking to his office and Sean. Her father had gone to his room to rest, very quiet the whole way back from his house.

  Mike had found her standing at the picture window in the living room, and he’d scolded her about giving the drive-by shooter another chance at playing target practice. She’d turned toward him and blurted out her life was out of her control.

  That was when he’d tilted her face up and told her to give control over to the Lord. He was a much better handler of problems than any of them.

  She crossed the room and fingered the black book. She had to do something. What she was doing wasn’t working. She took the Bible back to the bed and sat. Maybe it was time to give God another chance.

  ELEVEN

  “What are you doing up so early?” Connor strolled across the kitchen to the coffeepot and turned it on, then glanced at the window. The slits in the blinds let in the pale light of dawn.

  Cara curled her right hand around her mug of hot tea and lifted it to her lips. “I got seven solid hours of sleep. That’s the best night of sleep so far.”

  He lounged back against the counter. “I noticed you’re still wearing your sling. I thought you were going to try to do without.”

  She shrugged. “My shoulder was bothering me last night. I guess all that action yesterday was too much.”

  “You aren’t invincible.”

  “I know that.” Narrowing her eyes on him, she gritted her teeth.

  “Do you? In the course of a week you’ve been assaulted, kidnapped, nearly blown up and shot.” Frustration strengthened each of his words.

  “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Connor?”

  He gripped the edge of the counter on each side of him. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. The couch in the living room isn’t that comfortable.”

  “Living room? What’s wrong with your bed upstairs?”

  “Too far away from you…r dad.”

  “You don’t need to worry about him. I’m right across the hall from him.”

  Connor gestured toward her left arm in a sling. “And I see you’re at your best.”

  Straightening, she glared at him. She pulled a small gun out of her sling and laid it on the counter. “I’ll do what I need to do to protect my own father.”

  With a sigh, he relaxed the stiff set of his shoulders and released his grasp on the counter. “I know you will. But it’s okay to accept help. You can’t control everything.”

  “There you go again about control.” Last night, as tired as she was, she had spent some time reading the Bible, praying she could learn to turn control over to the Lord. She realized she had a problem with that. She’d grown up in a household where her father controlled everything, even from a distance when he was away on an assignment. In turn she’d tried to control her mother’s life and hadn’t succeeded.

  “I’ve been there. Still am. But I’ve learned in my job I have to depend on others to help me with an investigation.”

  “Where, as a bodyguard, it was all me. I had to be the one to protect the client. It’s a solitary job.”

  “Life doesn’t have to be solitary, Cara.”

  For the past thirteen years she’d been a loner. Actually, most of her life, except for the short time when she was with Connor. The sound of shuffling feet against the wooden floor drew her attention toward Mike entering the kitchen.

  “What are you two up so early for?” He grinned and continued toward the coffeepot.

  Connor poured himself a mug and one for his grandfather then handed it to him. “Just discussing the need for sleep.”

  “I slept like a baby and now I’m raring to go with my laptop.” Mike snatched up his computer and headed toward the back door. “I’m gonna leave you two to hash out the reasons you aren’t sleeping. Usually it means you’re troubled about something.”

  “Yeah, I have John Smith after me. I think that’s a good reason to lose a little sleep.”

  Mike peered back at her. “Is that all, child?”

  Then before she could answer him, he disappeared outside onto the screened-in porch.

  Light poured into the kitchen when he opened the door. Every morning the sun chased away the darkness. She wished it were that easy to chase away her fears. She didn’t know how to be in a relationship. She’d spent most of her life avoiding serious ones. For a short time she’d allowed herself to fall in love with Connor, but then her fears took over and she ran away.

  She rose with her cup of tea. “I think I’ll check to see if Dad’s up.”

  She was running away now.

  Connor watched her leave the room, standing at the sink and staring at the vacant entrance. She’d opened up last n
ight about her mother’s death. He’d always known her parents’ marriage had colored her opinion of two people committing to each other. While he’d been wrestling with sleep last night, he’d come to the conclusion that if Cara couldn’t put her past behind her there would be no way she could move on in a relationship with him. He’d realized he wanted that. He was falling in love with her all over again, and he was afraid in the end she would walk away as she’d done before. How could he stop himself from making the same mistake all over again?

  Find John Smith and get back to his life in Richmond.

  Cara let her dad struggle with buttoning his shirt until he got so frustrated he pounded the bed where he sat. Stepping forward, she started to help. He raised his arm to push her hand away.

  “A friend told me recently it’s okay to accept help, Dad.”

  He dropped his left arm back to his side, but his frown stayed in place.

  “Both of your therapists are coming today to work with you. I’ll mention to the OT about working on buttoning.”

  “Writ—ing.”

  “I’ll tell her you really want to learn to write with your left hand. But what if I get your laptop from Sean and you use it to communicate? Is that okay?” She finished with his shirt while she talked to him.

  His blue eyes brightened as though the sun had risen in them. He nodded.

  “Ready to get into the wheelchair?” She brought it close to him by the bed.

  His frown reappeared as he stared at the contraption that shouted to the world his inabilities.

  How would she feel being in her father’s shoes? Would she be frustrated, angry? Talk about lack of control in your own life. Her dad was worse than her about controlling a situation. Now he couldn’t at all.

  She automatically moved forward to assist him into the wheelchair. He flipped his wrist at her, shooing her away. Standing near, she was there to help if he needed it, but she allowed him to transfer himself to the wheelchair. Some function was slowly returning to his right arm and leg but it wasn’t fast enough for her dad. He almost fell as he pulled up then swung his body toward the leather seat.