large pipe bomb. Low-tech but it definitely could have killed her or her dad if they had been closer to it. Interesting, the logical, investigative part of her mind reasoned while the other wanted to shut down.
“Cara, who is trying to kill your dad—or you?”
“Me?” She didn’t want Connor involved in her life and certainly not protecting her. His nearness brought to the foreground everything she had run away from thirteen years ago. He’d wanted to smother her, do everything for her then. And in the short time they had been reunited, he was doing it again.
“Sean told me what you’ve been doing these past few years. We can’t totally rule you out as a possible target. I mean to find out what’s going on.”
She locked gazes with Connor and automatically her adrenaline spiked at the challenge—could she put their past aside to let him do his job—that she glimpsed in his depths. “Why? Because of our past?”
Connor rose and crossed to the stove to refill his mug. “Sean has asked for my help and I’m giving it. The origin of the bomb was in the dining room—the table. Do you know what the pipe bomb might have been in?”
Although she’d been forced to leave Nzadi under less than ideal conditions, she didn’t think anyone would have followed her to the United States to try and kill her—she hoped. “I don’t think I’m the target. My dad had been receiving birthday gifts from friends. The neighbor who had been collecting the mail brought them over yesterday morning. I had a stack of them on the dining room table from people around the world. He’ll be sixty tomorrow.” If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with the Nzadi affair on the phone with Kyra, she might have been more suspicious about the black-wrapped gift. Although black wrapping paper was often used as a joke for a milestone birthday, anyone knowing her father wouldn’t have sent a gift wrapped in black paper. He wouldn’t be amused.
“Nothing seemed suspicious to you? Your dad wasn’t even home—hadn’t been for eight weeks.”
“But he had been due home this morning right before the last package, a medium-size box wrapped in black paper, was delivered.”
“Who knew about that?”
She shrugged, wishing she felt nonchalant. “Everyone in town.”
“But he didn’t come home.”
“It was a last-minute decision by his doctor at Sunny Meadows. He had a reaction to some new medication, and the doctor wanted him to stay there another day or so to keep an eye on him. I’d only been able to tell a few people I needed to cancel his birthday party. Sean was one of them.” She narrowed her eyes on him as he sat. “I feel like I’m being interrogated.”
“I do work for the Virginia CID.” He lifted his mug to his lips and took a long sip.
For a few seconds she watched that action, remembering a time when those lips had kissed hers. She looked down at her drink and tried to bring some kind of order to her chaotic thoughts. “You have no right to bring me here without my permission. I’m sure I didn’t give it.” She wouldn’t have because that meant she would be near Connor. There was no way she could deal with him on top of everything else. “The last thing I recall is lying on Doc’s examination table. He gave me another pill and that’s all. Did he drug me?”
“He gave you pain medication. You went to sleep all on your own.”
Which really didn’t surprise her. She had been functioning on only a few hours of sleep for the past four days, reporting to Kyra about her last assignment after escaping Nzadi then turning right around and coming to Clear Branch at midnight two days ago. Although she’d been to the rehabilitation center/nursing home to make plans to move her father to his house, she’d thought she could rest before having to deal with his situation.
But ever since she stepped through the doorway into her childhood home, memories had bombarded her from all sides. She’d spent most of the past two nights prowling the house, trying not to dredge up memories from the last time she’d been there and the fight she and her dad had had. That memory had kept her away for thirteen years.
“And I’ve been here for how long?”
“Since before noon. As I said, Gramps did ask you about coming here.”
“And I answered?” Memories of earlier began to leak back into her mind. She remembered the deep, gruff voice saying something to her. Then, because her ears were still ringing, Mike had written something on a piece of paper. The blast must have affected her more than she thought if she’d agreed to come here.
“Yes. Gramps and I brought you here.”
“How?”
“I carried you to the car and then to the house.”
That was what she’d been afraid of. Her heartbeat sped at the thought of being in Connor’s arms, cradled against him—twice in one day. Another memory of being in his arms cloaked her. Of him kissing her. A lifetime ago. “I don’t need to be protected. I didn’t thirteen years ago, and I don’t now. I’m not the one in danger.” At least she didn’t think so, and she would do her own checking into that. “My dad must be. I need to call the center to see how he is.”
She flipped open her cell and punched in the stored number of Sunny Meadows, then asked to speak to the nurse on duty. When she came on the line, Cara asked, “How’s C. J. Madison doing? This is his daughter.”
“Cara, this is Kathy. Your dad is fine, but the doctor wants to keep him at least through tomorrow.”
“Is the deputy sheriff with him?” she asked, vaguely recalling Sean writing something to that effect on a piece of paper.
“Yes. In fact, after the sheriff came a while ago and told your father what happened, he got quite upset at the news. It took us a while to get him settled down. Doc had us give him his sleeping pill early tonight. I think he’s down for the night. Are you all right? Everyone heard what happened at the house.”
Cara had known Kathy in high school and was glad she was one of the nurses looking after her father. “I’m fine. So you don’t think I should come see him tonight?”
“No. Get a good night’s sleep and come tomorrow morning.”
Cara snagged Connor’s gaze while she said goodbye to Kathy. “I may have agreed to come here because Mike asked, but I’m not staying here, Connor.”
He surged to his feet and strode to the sink to pitch the rest of his coffee. “I tried to tell Gramps and the sheriff you wouldn’t want this, but they were sure you would see the wisdom in being here in an environment a little bit easier to control than a hotel. They just don’t remember how pig-headed you are.”
“Well, then I’ll have to tell them after you take me to the house.”
“No can do.”
“What do you mean? I need some clean clothes. You can’t keep me here against my will. I’m not in any danger. Besides, I know how to take care of myself.” Her training and survival instinct had gotten her out of the kitchen before more of the ceiling had come down on top of her.
His smile tilted up the corners of his mouth, but that was all it did, as though he was trying valiantly to be
