Protecting Her Own. Margaret Daley

have a grudge against him.”

      “Maybe the memoir is the key, and that sparked this attack now.”

      Sean rubbed his hand through his hair. “Maybe, but he hadn’t started it yet. Cara has done her fair share of things that would make enemies.”

      “As a bodyguard?”

      “She’s worked a couple of high-profile assignments.”

      “So you think she could be in danger?”

      “Maybe. But if I had to pick one I would pick C.J. He’s got the manners of a pit bull and a rattlesnake all rolled up in one, especially when he’s on a hot story.”

      As much as he wished he didn’t, he still held feelings for Cara. Connor’s own relief, though, that C.J. was probably the target rather than Cara eased the tautness from his muscles. There was no love lost between her dad and him. “Where’s she living now?” Why was he asking? Stay away.

      “Dallas, when she isn’t traveling for Guardians, Inc.”

      He’d heard of the group of all female bodyguards. Its reputation was top-notch. Connor looked toward where Doc was still checking Cara out. Lord, I wasn’t prepared to see her again. “Do you think she’ll go back to Dallas soon?”

      “I don’t know if she’s going back just yet. She’s trying to get something set up so her father can live at home and receive the therapy he needs for his recovery. He’s been getting better. I was surprised this morning when she called to tell me the birthday party she’d planned for tomorrow at the house was canceled because her dad would be at Sunny Meadows a few more days.”

      “She doesn’t have anywhere to stay now,” Connor murmured, looking at the bombed-out front of the house. If he’d realized Cara was back in town, he wouldn’t have come home. Gramps had failed to mention that when he’d talked to him last night before coming from Richmond.

      “There’s always the hotel on Main Street since the lodge by the lake is full with Labor Day approaching. But I’m figuring she needs someone to watch over her until we can piece together what’s going on. Who the target is.”

      Connor chuckled. “I don’t envy you that job.”

      “I don’t have the manpower to watch over her adequately and C.J. at the center as well as try to solve this case. But you could protect Cara.”

      “Oh, no.” Connor shook his head, stepping away from his friend to emphasize he didn’t want anything to do with Cara Madison. “I’d rather be in a pit full of rattlesnakes,” he said in all seriousness, thinking about the sheriff’s reference to a rattlesnake earlier.

      Sean burst out laughing. “I hear where she lives they have rattlesnake roundups. Maybe you could visit her and go to one.” A serious expression descended. “I need someone I trust. Your grandfather lives on the outskirts of town on a few acres. Quiet. Between you and your grandfather, she ought to be safe just in case we’re wrong and she’s the target.”

      “And just how do you think I can keep her at Gramps’s house?”

      “I know that will be impossible, but when she comes into town, you can be with her. Your place is defensible, better than a hotel. Your grandfather has an alarm system. The terrain around his place is open, and the area is a quiet neighborhood without a lot of people.”

      “You make it sound like I should be planning for a war.”

      “Well, not exactly. Just pointing out why your grandfather’s house is perfect, and I’ll sleep a whole lot better knowing she’s being taken care of.”

      “And I should care why?” The tension in Connor’s neck spread down his spine and radiated across his shoulders.

      “Because when I get a good night’s sleep, I can actually function pretty good and might just be able to find out who’s trying to kill one of the Madisons.”

      But I won’t get a bit of sleep, Connor wanted to shout at his friend.

      “It shouldn’t be more than a week at most, and you know your grandfather has a soft spot for Cara. I wouldn’t be surprised if when he hears about the situation, he won’t insist she come stay with you guys. And her dad, too, when he’s discharged from Sunny Meadows.”

      The thought of being in the same house as C.J. increased the pain gripping his shoulders. Connor leaned toward Sean and lowered his voice. “I won’t tell Gramps.”

      “But every busybody in this town will. So cut your losses and just agree now. He probably already knows.”

      There was a part of him that really meant what he’d said about her not staying with him and Gramps, but there was a part that knew if he looked deep down, every one of those words was a lie. As angry as he was at Cara, he never wanted anything bad to happen to her or her father, and there was no way he could walk away without helping to keep her safe.

      His gaze strayed to Cara, still pale with a fine layer of dust covering her, her hand not quite steady as she held out her palm for a pill from Doc Sims. A wet streak down her face stirred feelings in Connor he’d kept locked away for thirteen years. Cara never cried. Living with her iron-willed father had made her tough. The sight pricked his conscious. He couldn’t turn his back on her, and all the protests in the world weren’t going to change that.

      “Okay, I know when to admit I’m defeated. She can stay at Gramps’s.” He swallowed the lump lodged in his throat and muttered through clenched teeth, “And so can C.J.”

      Sean slapped him on the back. “That’s great. Then we’re set.”

      “Are we? You’ve forgotten one important piece in all of this.” At his friend’s raised eyebrow, Connor continued, “You have to get Cara to agree to stay there.”

      TWO

      The softness beneath her cheek tempted Cara to surrender again to the dark void of sleep. She shifted, aches protesting the move. Slowly she raised one eyelid and stared at an unfamiliar chest of drawers.

      Where am I?

      The last thing she remembered was Connor coming into the clinic to check on her. At least that was what she thought. Or was it a dream? When she tried to think about the morning, everything blurred, as though she were looking through sheers into a room and not quite seeing it clearly.

      Her head throbbing where she’d struck the refrigerator, she cautiously rolled over, opening both eyes to stare at a white ceiling. She searched the dimly lit room. The beige blinds were closed. Little gave away where she was. A hotel room? Still at Doc Sims’s clinic?

      She eased up on her elbows to get a better look, conscious of not moving too fast. The room didn’t spin. Her world was stable. Then she zoomed in on a sound coming from her left. A rhythmic ticking. She glanced at the nightstand, which had only a lamp and a clock on it.

      7:00? She glanced toward the window, muted light leaking through the slats in the blinds.

      What happened to the past eight hours? Is Dad all right?

      She jerked up straight in bed and immediately regretted that sudden movement. After the dizziness passed, she swung her legs to the floor and rose slowly, glad she was still dressed in her dust-covered jeans and a University of Virginia T-shirt that Doc had at his clinic. The room held nothing personal in it, only the bed, two nightstands on either side of it, a chest of drawers and a comfortable-looking maroon chair near the one window with a little round table next to it.

      The room is void of any feeling—like my life of late.

      Cara pushed that thought away. She had more important concerns than piecing her life back together. She needed to discover who wanted her dad dead. And that meant getting answers from the sheriff.

      But first, is Dad okay at Sunny Meadows? She looked around for a phone since she’d left her cell back on her father’s kitchen floor. No phone.