Protecting Her Own (Love Inspired Suspense)

by Margaret Daley

  TWELVE

  “John Smith is dead?” Cara collapsed into the chair nearby in the living room. “Are the authorities sure it is him?”

  “He was found several days ago and was finally identified with dental records.” Connor paced in front of her, worry on his face. “They had cut off his hands, which weren’t with the body, and he didn’t have any identification on him. He was buried in a cave in a shallow grave. But some animals must have dug him up. Not much was left of him except his bones. A couple of guys hiking who liked to explore caves found him.”

  “That means we’ve got it all wrong then. Who’s after Dad and me?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to go see Lucy and get some answers. In the meantime, Sean is taking the few prints we found at Sally’s apartment to the station to see if we can get a match in the system. There weren’t a lot of prints. It was as if Sally had wiped it down. The ones we found might not even be hers, but it’s a starting point. We need to know who is after you all.”

  “So, we’ve got two females and at least one male involved. Could it have something to do with the gang Beau was connected to?”

  A frown on his face, Connor dragged his hand through his hair. “Maybe. Have Gramps and your dad begin looking into the gang members and people linked with them. I’ll be back here as soon as I get through with Lucy.”

  “Lucy’s prints weren’t in the system. We need to find out everything about her.”

  “I know. We’ll start with the gang and try to connect Lucy and Sally to it, then go from there. Remember, we can’t assume anything. Look what happened concerning John Smith. We didn’t challenge Lucy’s brief statement about being Beau’s girlfriend and helping John. We should have.”

  His regretful tone pushed her to her feet. She covered the distance between them and laid her hand on his arm. “We were following the leads. From what we know, Lucy at one time was Beau’s girlfriend. It made sense that John Smith was behind this. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

  “Maybe the person we have in custody isn’t the real Lucy Samuels. He shrugged away from her. “It’s my job to find who is behind this. Your life is on the line. I can’t afford to make a mistake.”

  “Hey, I can take care of myself. I’m still here despite their best efforts. You aren’t the only one in this. I am involved, too.”

  He fisted his hands then slowly uncurled them. “I know. You can protect yourself. You don’t need anyone. You’ve made that clear for years.”

  “You’re twisting my words.”

  “Am I?” One eyebrow lifted.

  “This isn’t about us.”

  “You’re fooling yourself if you don’t think it is. From the beginning it has been about you and me. I told myself I should leave and let someone else find out who is targeting you and your dad, but no. I didn’t listen to my common sense. I plunged right back in as if thirteen years had never happened.”

  “That’s not true. You made it plain from the beginning you would never forget what happened back then.”

  “Well, guess what? I didn’t listen to myself. I went right ahead even though I told myself I couldn’t and fell in love with you all over again.” He laughed but the sound that came out was twisted with self-loathing. “What a mistake!”

  “Why?” she managed to murmur while she was still trying to digest the idea he was in love with her.

  “Can you honestly tell me that you would marry me and stay in Virginia? Give up your life as a bodyguard?”

  His challenge blasted her in the face, stealing her words, her thoughts. She stood there and just stared at him. The words he loves me kept running through her mind.

  All expression wiped from his face, he peered at her with the coldness of a winter storm. “That’s what I thought.” Pivoting, he marched toward the foyer. “I’m going to see Lucy.”

  She needed to go after him, but to do what? She didn’t know what she wanted. She couldn’t tell him she was willing to walk away from her old life and settle down as his wife, and she wouldn’t say anything until she was one hundred percent sure.

  The sound of the front door slamming drove home that Connor had finally given up on her, and she couldn’t blame him. He deserved so much more than what she could give him right now.

  She trudged toward the kitchen to work with her dad and Mike. They had to get to the bottom of who was targeting her and her father. Their lives were on the line. But in the back of her mind, a small voice nagged her: What kind of life do I have?

  Connor sat across from Lucy and her lawyer at the police station in Silver Creek. Her neutral expression greeted his assessment. She dropped her gaze to the table.

  “Lucy isn’t saying anything, Mr. Fitzgerald. This is a waste of time.”

  “She doesn’t have to answer if she doesn’t want to, but I have some information I wanted to tell her personally.” He waited a few seconds. When Lucy finally reestablished eye contact, Connor continued, “John Smith’s body has been discovered in a cave in the mountains not too far from here.”

  “Then you’ve got the man behind this.” The lawyer started to rise.

  “Not exactly. John Smith has been dead for several weeks at least, which would make it impossible for him to be behind the attempts. Dead men don’t make bombs, attack people or drive by and shoot a gun.” Connor lounged back in the chair. “Who are you, Lucy Samuels? It’s only a matter of time before we find out. We have you connected to the bombing and possibly the murder of John Smith. Things would go so much easier if you tell me who is behind this. Because if you don’t talk, you’ll be charged with more serious crimes. All you have to have is knowledge of the crimes. Withholding evidence will make you just as guilty. Not to mention attempted murder of a police officer—me. You may not have been the one who shot at me in the drive-by, but you’ve been caught up in the conspiracy from the beginning. The charges are adding up. Longer time in jail.”

  She turned to her lawyer and whispered something to him.

  “She has nothing to say. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other clients I need to see.”

  “Lucy, we’re investigating your connection to the Washington, D.C. gang, and we’ll find it. If you’re connected to them, we can protect you.”

  Her gaze flared for a couple of seconds before she managed to wipe any expression from her eyes. “I told you I was Beau’s girlfriend.”

  “Anyone else’s in the gang? Is this revenge for C. J. Madison’s article that brought the leaders finally to trial?”

  Lucy kept her head down. “I want to go back to my cell. I have nothing to say.”

  Her lawyer stood, assisting Lucy to her feet. “This interview is over.”

  “Suit yourself.” Connor walked toward the door. “I hope you get used to living in a cell. It’ll be your home until you grow old and gray.” He walked out of the room and indicated to the police officer he was finished talking to Lucy.

  On the drive to the station, his thoughts had constantly slipped to his conversation with Cara, and he’d struggled to stay focused on his meeting with Lucy. He’d known it was a long shot interviewing her yet again, but he’d had to try. And he’d discovered what he needed to. Lucy was linked with the gang somehow—beyond her connection to Beau.

  What if Lucy is playing me again? The question plagued him as he left the building. His gut said no, but he could be wrong. On the way back to his grandfather’s, he stopped by to talk with Sean.

  “I found a picture of the gang leader’s lieutenant’s girlfriend.” Mike grinned and turned the laptop toward Cara. “Do you know her?”

  “That’s Lucy!” Although, Lucy was dressed differently, in jeans with holes and a short-cropped shirt that emphasized parts of her body she wanted to show off. The photo revealed the same long brown hair, no longer pulled back in a ponytail, but a wild mass of curls. The clean face of the receptionist at the construction company was replaced with one that was heavily made up. The red-colored smiling lips mocked Cara as she stared at the
woman next to her boyfriend, draped all over him. “When was this picture taken?”

  “Right before the two gang leaders were arrested two months ago. Now all I have to do is find out this woman’s name.” Mike took the computer back and began typing in a command.

  “It seems Lucy didn’t really care about Beau like she proclaims. It didn’t take her long to move on.”

  Cara busied herself going through the papers they had printed, trying to find a connection between Sally and Lucy, but her conversation with Connor kept intruding into her thoughts. She often had to reread a sentence. Frustration caused her to rise and walk to the sink for some more water. She stood looking out the window at the backyard. As the sun began its descent toward the western horizon, shadows began to lengthen, highlighting the openness of Mike’s place—on the outskirts of town, several acres surrounding his house. Yes, his lawn out back was fenced, but the chain-link barrier could be easily scaled.

  “Gooot—it.”

  Her father’s voice pulled her attention away from her thoughts. She pivoted and saw the lopsided grin on his face. Dad leaned to the side while Mike looked at her father’s computer screen.

  Mike glanced up at her. “C.J. found out who Sally really is. She’s Brandy Owens and she’s the girlfriend of the leader of the gang. The one awaiting trial with the second in command.”

  “I’ll call Connor and let him know. We know from the CID officer’s informant there was a Lucy Samuels who dated Beau. What if our Lucy is the same one? She might have been the one to turn Beau in to the gang as an informant that led to his murder.”

  “We’ll keep working and let you know.”

  Cara shifted her gaze to her father and smiled. “You haven’t lost your touch, Dad. Now that we know Sally’s real name, Connor and Sean might be able to find where she’s gone. Also, Connor’s contacts in the Washington area can find out if there is one Lucy or two different people. I feel things are starting to fall into place.”

  The look in her dad’s eyes warmed. He nodded and went back to work.

  Cara withdrew her cell from her jeans pocket and ambled toward the living room while she punched in Connor’s number. Her stomach constricted as she waited for him to answer.

  “I’ll tell Sean, Cara. We’ll be able to alert cops to be on the lookout for Sally’s car with a license number to go with the description the neighbor gave.” Connor sat in the sheriff’s office across from Sean but made a point not to look at his friend. He was afraid something in his expression would give himself away. “I’ll be back at the house soon.”

  When he hung up, Connor took his time putting away his cell while looking away from Sean. He wanted nothing showing on his face. The sound of Cara’s excited voice still filled him with emotions he wanted to deny. How could he fall in love with her again after all his talk of not doing that? Because he’d never fallen out of love with her. That explanation hit him in the gut as though a boxer had landed a knockout blow.

  “What did they find out?” Sean asked.

  “Sally Payne is really Brandy Owens.”

  Sean turned to his computer on his desk and checked on Brandy’s vehicle’s license number. “Got it. I’ll get this out to everyone here and let the police in Silver Creek know, too. Be right back.”

  While his friend was gone, Connor contacted his office and gave them the update. “I want to know everything there is to know about this gang in Washington. Who’s running it while the leaders are in jail? Who can’t be accounted for? Maybe some of the gang members are helping Brandy go after C.J. I want pressure put on this gang, especially the two behind bars. Bring the gang members in and make them sweat. We’ve helped the D.C. police before. Have them work their contacts on the street.” Connor ended the call and closed his cell.

  “We’re especially looking around the lake,” Sean said as he reentered his office. “There’s a lot of rental property where someone could be holed up. I called the authorities in Winchester and a few other surrounding towns.”

  “Hopefully something will turn up soon.” Connor rose. “I’m going home. I’ll make a few more calls when I get there. I have some friends in D.C. who owe me.”

  “I’m heading to dinner soon then back here to work some more.” As he strode toward the door, Sean grinned. “Tell Cara hi for me. I imagine being cooped up with you three in that house is driving her crazy about now.”

  “No, it’s driving me crazy,” Connor muttered, leaving Sean’s office.

  “What did you say?” Sean came up behind him.

  “Nothing. Just some grumblings. Not enough sleep.”

  “Ah, she’s getting to you. I wondered when it would happen.”

  Over his shoulder Connor glimpsed the smug look on Sean’s face. “Not another word if you want to remain my friend.”

  The sheriff’s chuckles grated on Connor’s nerves all the way to the front door of the station. Outside, as the sun began to set, quiet ruled, except for an occasional car passing by the sheriff’s office on the road leading toward Silver Creek. He paused and breathed in deep gulps of the hot summer air. Although Gramps’s place was on the other side of Clear Branch, it would only take him ten minutes to get there. Ten minutes and he would see Cara again.

  Ten minutes and he would have to act as though he wasn’t in love with her because he was bound and determined to mean it this time. Loving Cara Madison was not good for him.

  Slowly he made his way to his Jeep parked at the side of the building. His thoughts centered on Cara, Connor didn’t notice a man swiftly moving toward him until it was too late.

  A tall, muscular man with tattoos all over him held a gun in his hand, and it was pointed at Connor.

  “Got Lucy’s name. It’s Lucy Samuels.” Mike pumped his arm into the air.

  Cara stood at the stove cooking spaghetti and meat sauce. “So she used her real name. Not like Brandy Owens, aka Sally Payne.”

  “Yeah, surprise, surprise.”

  “Connor should be here soon.” Cara put the wooden spoon on the counter. “Would you watch the sauce? I’m going to get Dad for dinner.”

  “He’s been a real trooper through all this.”

  She stopped at the doorway. “Trooper?”

  “Yeah, he’s been working as hard as I have until half an hour ago, and I haven’t been poisoned and had a stroke. Have you noticed how much he’s trying today?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Child, I’ll be the first to admit I’ve never been a big fan of your father on a personal level. As a professional he’s top-notch. He’s made a difference with his reporting.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Cara quickly left the kitchen and went down the hall toward her father’s bedroom where he went to lie down for a few minutes.

  After a brief knock on the door she opened it and poked her head in to tell him dinner was almost ready. The room was empty.

  The fact that Connor could identify the man holding the gun on him reinforced the gravity of the situation. The tattooed thug didn’t intend to rob him and flee. This was tied to what was going on with Cara, and he would be a dead man if he couldn’t overpower his assailant. These thoughts flew through Connor’s mind as his gaze fastened onto the weapon pointed at his heart only feet from him.

  “What do you want?” Connor asked, lifting his attention to the man’s face, imprinting his features on his mind in case he managed to survive.

  “Nothing you can give me, man.” His gruff, gravelly voice cut through the hot air like a sword.

  Connor calculated his chances of outrunning a bullet and came up nil. “We know about the connection to the murder attempts and the Black Serpents.”

  Tattoo man narrowed his eyes. “No one challenges us.”

  “Connor, I have news about Brandy,” Sean said as he came around the corner of the building and came to a stop.

  Cara’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. Where’s Dad? She backed out of his bedroom into the hall and glanced around. Then she heard a groaning sou
nd coming from her room.

  She whirled around and charged through the doorway, half expecting to see someone inside besides her dad. His eyes grew round at the sight of her rushing into the middle of the room, her gun drawn. He had been in the process of either standing or sitting again in his wheelchair. Plopping the rest of the way into the leather seat, he twisted his mouth into a frown while splaying his left hand over his heart.

  Holstering her gun, Cara tried to laugh at her assumption her father was in danger and her becoming a one-woman cavalry, minus the horse. “Sorry. I thought you were in trouble. I heard your groan.”

  He fumbled for the pad in the pocket at the side of his wheelchair and laid it on his lap. As she made her way toward him by the window, the sheers drawn but the curtains open to let in daylight, her father jotted down a note.

  She picked it up and read, “Hear noise. Check came.” She looked at him and asked, “Inside here?”

  He shook his head.

  “Outside?”

  “Yes.”

  “By my window?”

  He shrugged, then wrote something else on the paper. Side house.

  Cara leaned around her father and closed the curtains, shutting out the darkness descending since the sun began to set. The light from the hallway illuminated the path while he steered his wheelchair from the room.

  “I don’t want you near a window. Somebody could have seen you and tried to shoot you. I’ll give the guard outside a call and let him check it out. That’s his job. Not ours.”

  She said it out loud, not only to convince her father but also herself because her first instinct was to deposit her dad with Mike then go around to the side of the house and see what could have gotten her father’s attention. As they headed toward the kitchen, Cara made the call to the guard, who said he would check it out.

  “The state trooper said it was probably a dog he saw earlier roaming the neighborhood. He thinks he got into the garbage cans kept near the gate,” she said, slipping her cell into her pocket.