by Karen Foley
“So, essentially, we still don’t know anything,” Caroline said, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“Hey,” Jason said and pulled her into his arms for a brief, hard hug. “Your dad is improving. Let’s focus on that for now, okay?”
She nodded, absorbing his warmth and strength. He was right; she needed to focus on the positive. When he finally drew away, she missed the contact.
“If you’re satisfied that your father is okay for a couple of hours, there’s something I want to do with you this afternoon,” he said carefully.
Her imagination immediately filled with erotic images of the two of them. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the previous night and acknowledged that she desperately wanted to be alone with Jason again. To make love to him again.
“What is it?” Her voice came out a little breathless.
“I want to take you to a shooting range.”
Whatever Caroline had expected, it wasn’t that. She gave a bark of disbelieving laughter. “Why? If you think I’m going to even touch a gun, never mind shoot it, you’re wrong.”
“I’d feel better if you knew how to handle a weapon,” he said seriously.
Caroline stared at him. “You’re not kidding.”
“There’s a range not far from here. We’ll spend three hours or so there today, and again tomorrow.”
Something in his expression caused a frisson of uneasiness to feather its way along her spine. “Do you really think I’m in danger?”
“As I said before, the likelihood that anyone is going to target you is slim, but I’m not taking any chances. I want you familiar with how to handle a gun.”
Caroline drew in a deep breath and then nodded. “Okay, fine. But I didn’t really dress for a shooting range. Am I okay in what I’m wearing?”
What she was wearing was a sleeveless top in a clingy material that left her arms and shoulders bare. She’d paired it with skinny jeans and a pair of flat shoes. The outfit wasn’t anything that anyone could call sexy, but when she looked at Jason, his eyes reflected masculine appreciation.
“Yeah,” he finally said. “What you’re wearing is great.”
Feeling pleased and a little flushed by his obvious admiration, Caroline scooped up her handbag, then returned briefly to her father’s bedside. “Since he’s heavily sedated, the doctors said he won’t regain consciousness again for a while. So I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
The indoor shooting range was less than a thirty-minute drive from the hospital, and, although Caroline felt completely out of her element, Jason clearly knew what he was doing. Inside, he registered them both and procured three different handguns and enough ammunition to take down a small army. Her eyes widened when she saw the small arsenal that he carried.
“Three guns?” she asked in disbelief. “I can only shoot one at a time.”
“Each one is a little different,” he explained. “I want to see which one you’re most comfortable handling, and that’s the one I’ll get for you to keep.”
Then he led Caroline to a small room, where they watched an instruction video about guns and the safe handling of them.
“Those are the basics,” Jason said when the video ended. “Now we’ll go to the range, and you can test your skills.”
The range consisted of a series of cubicles that overlooked long, enclosed alleys. At the end of each alley was a target. From where she stood, the target looked ridiculously far away. She’d never be able to hit it.
She stood quietly while Jason fitted her with a pair of ear protectors and safety glasses.
“Safety first,” he said, after he donned his own protective gear. He laid the guns and the ammunition out in front of her. “Let’s start with the smallest gun.”
He demonstrated how the gun worked, letting her handle it and having her load and unload the rounds from the chamber until he was satisfied she could do it without fumbling.
“When you pick up your gun,” he cautioned, “always keep your finger on the outside of the trigger guard, here. Always keep your gun angled downward, and never point it at anyone unless you mean business.”
Caroline did as he instructed, unprepared when he came to stand directly behind her. He was so close that her back was pressed against his brawny chest. “Okay,” he said, his face close to hers. “Hold your weapon in the firing-ready position, like this.”
His arms came around her, and his hands closed over hers, showing her how to curl her fingers securely around the grip.
“Good,” he approved. “Now, hold the gun tightly. When your hand begins to shake, relax your grip just a bit.”
Caroline bit her lip, focusing on his instructions. “Like this?”
“Perfect. Take your other hand and hold it like this.” He adjusted her left hand around the other side of the gun, aligning her thumbs to point downrange. “Your left hand is used to keep the gun steady. Don’t grip the gun with it.”
Caroline hitched in a breath. She was finding it difficult to concentrate when she could feel his hard body pressed up against her. He’d disapprove of her wayward thoughts, so she kept quiet, but she couldn’t keep her imagination from conjuring up images of just what he could be doing while he was standing behind her.
“Now, make sure both your thumbs are clear of the hammer,” he said, indicating the lever above her fingers. “When this thing pops back, it could hurt you if your hands aren’t properly positioned.”
Caroline nodded to let him know she understood.
“It’s important to stand in the proper firing stance,” he said. He stepped briefly away from her to demonstrate the stance. “Like this.”
“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” she replied.
Jason stood behind her again, and when she planted her feet, he used his own foot to widen her stance a bit more. “That’s good,” he said, and then he put one hand on her stomach and the other on her back and eased her forward. “You should be leaning forward just a bit,” he explained. “Like this, knees slightly bent, right arm locked.”
This new position put her butt into direct contact with his hips, although he seemed not to notice. He was so intent on ensuring she had the correct stance. There was definitely something wrong with her, she decided, since all she could seem to think about was sex. She could smell him. His arms were around her, and his breath was warm on her neck.
“You’re doing great,” he said. “Now you’re going to sight the target. The two sights should be level and centered. Focus on the center of the target. Good job. Now insert your finger into the trigger guard. Try to time your firing with your breathing. Take a breath, exhale halfway and then slowly squeeze the trigger.”
Caroline did as he instructed, startled by the first shot and unprepared for the recoil. She staggered a little, but Jason was right there, steadying her.
Yanking off her ear protectors, she whirled around, jubilant. Jason’s eyes widened, and he reached for the weapon, redirecting it away from his midsection and back toward downrange.
“Whoa! Always know where your gun is aimed,” he said, but he grinned at her. “Good job. Let’s clear the rounds and do it again.”
Her hand flew to her mouth as she realized she had swung the gun around and had pointed it directly at him. “Oh, my God,” she breathed in horror. “I’m sorry!”
“Beginner’s mistake.” He shrugged. “My fault. Ready to go again?”
Caroline saw that her hands were shaking, but she nodded and turned determinedly back toward the range, repositioning her earmuffs and goggles before she picked up the gun. But her mind was reeling with the knowledge that she could easily have shot Jason. She adjusted her stance and tried to align her sights, but all she could see was Jason, lying on the ground...bleeding.
Suddenly, his arms were around her, his
fingers prying the weapon from hands that visibly shook. He laid the gun down and turned her around to face him. His expression was filled with concern, and he quickly pulled her ear protectors and goggles off.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She shook her head and swallowed convulsively, unable to dispel the image she’d had of him. “I almost killed you.”
He looked confused, and then understanding dawned. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t. You made a small error, but nothing happened. Look at me...I’m fine.”
Seeing her distress, he laughed softly and pulled her into his arms. “Okay, come here. It’s okay, we don’t have to do this. I’m probably being overprotective anyway. Nothing is going to happen to you, because I’m going to be right here.”
Caroline dragged in a deep breath and pulled free of his embrace. “No, I want to finish. You might not always be here, and I want to be able to take care of myself.”
Slowly, Jason smiled, and she saw the grudging admiration in his eyes. “Okay, good. Let’s continue.”
She put her goggles and ear protectors back on and turned determinedly back to the weapons. This time, she wouldn’t let his proximity distract her. She knew how serious this was, and as she fixed her sights on the distant target, she made herself remember the blood on her father’s front porch. She thought again of how frail and vulnerable he’d looked in the hospital and imagined the target was the shooter, coming back to finish the job. She fired off six shots in quick succession. When she had emptied the chamber, she set the gun down and removed the headpiece.
“Great job,” Jason said. When she turned to look at him, he was grinning broadly. “Let’s take a closer look.”
He pressed a small button on the wall, and they watched as the target slid toward them. Even before it reached the window where they stood, she could see she had hit the center. Jason pulled the paper free from the clips, and they examined it together.
“You got four hits,” he said. “All of them center mass.”
Caroline studied the tiny holes. They were all within the targeted circles. “So I did good?”
“You did better than good—you did great.”
“I want to go again,” she said, a little astonished at the thrill of power she felt. “I don’t want to stop until I hit the mark.”
“Not everyone is able to hit the dead center,” he cautioned. “But we can come back as many times as you want until you can.”
“I’m going to do it today.”
He didn’t argue, simply nodded and replaced the target with a fresh sheet. They spent another hour at the range, during which Caroline practiced using each of the weapons that Jason had selected. By the end of the session, her shoulders and arms ached with the effort of handling the guns and she had a knot of tension between her eyes.
She watched as Jason gathered up the guns, handling them with an ease and familiarity that bespoke years of experience. She waited while he turned the weapons and equipment back in, and then they walked outside and climbed into the SUV.
She watched as he put the vehicle into gear, admiring the shape and strength of his hands. As if sensing her scrutiny, he glanced over at her and smiled and then reached over to cover her hand with his.
“You did great,” he said. “Don’t worry that you couldn’t hit dead center. Like I said, sometimes it takes years to achieve that kind of marksmanship. What you did today was incredible, and I certainly wouldn’t want you pointing a weapon at me.”
His words brought back that horrific moment when she had inadvertently swung the gun in his direction. “Don’t remind me.” She cringed. “God, when I think that I could have shot you.”
“But you didn’t,” he said. “We’ll come back again, until handling a weapon becomes second nature, okay? We’ll get you a weapon of your own before the end of the week, along with a license to carry.”
Caroline nodded her agreement. Less than a week ago, she’d never have believed she’d be the kind of woman who would carry a concealed weapon. But that was before someone had gunned down her father. Before her life had been turned upside down.
She glanced over at Jason as he negotiated the busy city traffic, and she couldn’t help but recall how good it had felt to have him standing behind her—both figuratively and literally—while she learned to shoot. But while having her own weapon, and the skill to use it, might make her feel safe, she knew there weren’t enough bullets in the world to protect her heart from Jason Cooper. He’d already struck her dead center.
10
“I HAVE TO make some phone calls,” Jason said when they’d returned to the hospital and she had reassured herself that her father was still resting comfortably. “You’ll be okay while I’m gone? I’ll try to be quick, and then maybe we can grab a bite to eat downstairs.”
Caroline nodded. “That sounds good.” He had turned away before she remembered that she had other news for him, which she’d almost forgotten about in the excitement over her father’s condition and the shooting range. “Oh, wait.”
Jason pivoted back around, his green eyes flickering with interest.
Caroline moved to the table and picked up several of the case files. “While you were gone this morning, I went through some of the cases my father was working on, and I think these three warrant a second look.”
She held the files out to Jason, who took them and quickly scanned the contents. “These are medical malpractice cases,” he said.
“Well, two of them are. The third file involves Conrad Kelly, the guy who bombed all those federal buildings.” Seeing his expression, she held up a hand to forestall him. “I know what you’re thinking—Conrad Kelly is already serving a thirty-year sentence for the bombings, so there’s no way he could have been the shooter. But he has a lot of crazy followers, Jason. What if one of them decided to get revenge on my father for the sentence?”
“Okay, I’ll take a look at them as soon as I get back.” Jason set the files back on the table and took Caroline by the upper arms. The touch of his fingers sent a shiver of awareness through her. When he fixed his gaze on her mouth and swallowed hard, she knew he wasn’t immune to the contact, either. She could sense the effort it took for him to pull his thoughts back to their conversation. “We’ll follow every lead—I promise. We’ll find whoever did this.”
After he left, she opened the top file. The medical malpractice case had involved a botched kidney transplant between two siblings. A young woman had been in the final stages of renal failure, and her brother had offered up one of his own kidneys. He was a perfect match, and the organ transplant would have saved his sister’s life. Instead, the harvested organ had accidentally been thrown into the trash and damaged so badly that doctors had been unable to use it for the transplant. The woman had been forced to remain on dialysis until another kidney could be found, and she had passed away before that happened.
Caroline didn’t understand all the nuances of the final ruling, but the hospital had received what equated to a slap on the wrist, and the family had not received any compensation for their loss.
Just reading the case made Caroline angry on behalf of the woman and her brother, so how must the family feel? Would the woman’s brother be angry enough to seek revenge on her father? People went to extremes for lesser reasons, which was why she had set the file aside for further scrutiny.
The second malpractice case involved a young woman who had been admitted to the hospital with severe stomach pains. The doctors had diagnosed a ruptured appendix and had performed emergency surgery. During the procedure, the woman had gone into cardiac arrest on the operating table and had actually died. The surgeons were able to resuscitate her, but she had suffered permanent brain damage as a result. She’d survived for a week, before she had been taken off life support. An autopsy revealed she’d had an underlying, previously undiagnosed heart condition
, which had been exacerbated by the anesthesia. Judge Banks had ruled in favor of the hospital.
Caroline looked over to where her father lay. He was a good judge and a good man. She knew that with all her heart. But she had a hard time believing he had ruled in favor of the hospital in both cases. Could he have made a mistake in these instances? Medical malpractice wasn’t Caroline’s specialty, so perhaps there were some underlying legalities that she didn’t fully comprehend. But she could absolutely understand why the victims’ loved ones might want to harm her father for his ruling. Nothing about it seemed fair.
At that moment, her cell phone began to vibrate in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw it was Patrick Dougherty, the social worker from Richmond.
“Hi, Patrick,” she said.
She strained to listen, but the reception in the hotel was spotty at best, and she could only make out every third or fourth word that he said.
“Patrick,” she said, interrupting his flow of words. “You’re breaking up. I’m going to take the phone outside and call you right back.”
Grimacing, she disconnected the call, hoping he didn’t think she’d just arbitrarily hung up on him. Stepping out into the corridor, she looked for Jason, but neither he nor Deputy Black were anywhere in sight.
“Have you seen either Marshal Cooper or Deputy Black?” she asked the guard who stood vigil outside her father’s door.
“Yes, ma’am,” the deputy replied. “They had some calls to make but couldn’t get any reception. I believe they stepped outside.” He indicated the exit sign at the far end of the corridor.
“Thanks,” Caroline said.
Her father’s room was on the third floor of the hospital, but if she took the stairwell to the ground floor, she would be directly across from one of the main hospital entries that led to a small parking lot at the side of the hospital. Certain that was where Jason and Agent Black had gone, she made her way to the exit door.