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He was still on the phone when Caroline came out of the bedroom thirty minutes later and quietly sat down to eat her salad. Jason ended his conversation and studied her closely. Her face was blotchy, and her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He wondered if she’d had a heart-to-heart with Patrick, sharing her emotions with the other man the way she refused to with him. Jason pushed down a flare of jealousy, reminding himself that there was absolutely no reason why Caroline should share her feelings with him. He hadn’t done anything to earn her trust. In fact, some might argue that he’d violated her trust in kissing her.
He sat down across from her and unwrapped the sandwich he’d ordered. They ate in silence for a moment, and Jason knew that Caroline was only going through the motions and wasn’t actually enjoying her meal, or even tasting it. Truthfully, he wasn’t all that interested in eating, either.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked.
* * *
CAROLINE RAISED HER head to look at him and nodded. “Yes. It’s just been a long day.”
That was the truth. She felt drained, physically and emotionally. After the flight from Virginia, and the three-hour difference in time, she was exhausted. Then Patrick Dougherty had called. He’d seen the reports of the shooting on the evening news. Although he’d purportedly called to offer his sympathy and find out how she was doing, Caroline suspected what he really wanted to find out was how long she planned to be away. Devon Lawton needed legal representation, and she was one of the few pro bono lawyers who knew the kid’s full history. Caroline felt guilty leaving Devon in the lurch, but right now she had no other option. She’d asked Patrick to call the district attorney’s office and have them assign legal representation for Devon. Tomorrow morning she’d call one of the paralegals at her law firm and have them bring her case files over to the new lawyer. Right now, that was the best she could do.
“I called the hospital,” Jason said, interrupting her thoughts. “There’s been no change in your father’s condition.” He nodded toward her salad. “The best thing you can do is eat and then get some sleep. We’ll head over early to see him.”
Caroline knew he was right. While she wanted to be at the hospital with her father, realistically she knew there was nothing she could do. He was in good hands, and she had to hope that his condition would improve over the next few days. But she couldn’t dispel the feelings of helplessness and guilt that had plagued her since she’d learned her father had been shot in cold blood on his front doorstep. She wanted to do something useful, something that would help him. She didn’t want to sit in a hotel room, a virtual prisoner. And she definitely did not want Jason Cooper as her bodyguard.
“Did the police find anything at the house that might give them a lead?”
“Just the partial footprint in the flower bed. But there’s no guarantee that it belongs to the person who did this. Your father employs a lawn care service, so it could have been left by a worker.”
Caroline pushed her plate away. “So exactly what’s your role in all of this? Are you only here to watch over me, or will you also help in the investigation? I mean, it would be pretty hard to just sit by and not have an active role, right?”
“I do have an active role,” he said quietly. “My role is protecting you.”
“But you’re a U.S. marshal. Don’t you usually give this kind of job to your deputies?” She leaned forward. “Why don’t you assign one of your men—Deputy Black, maybe—to stay with me? Then you can do whatever it is you do to find the sonofabitch who did this to my father.”
She watched as he pushed his own plate aside and gave her a crooked smile. That slight tilting of his mouth fascinated her, and Caroline realized how seldom she’d seen Jason smile. She didn’t even know what his laughter sounded like. During her youth, when he had come over to the house to see her father, she couldn’t recall a single time when he’d been lighthearted or full of exuberance. She’d never given it much thought, because part of his appeal had been his dark intensity and the aura of danger that had clung to him.
He was still broody and intense, but she hadn’t sensed any of the pent-up rage he’d once exhibited, except when he’d first seen her father at the hospital. But she understood that anger, because she felt it, too. Now she wondered if he’d managed to find happiness in the past twelve years. He’d certainly achieved an impressive level of success in his career.
“Do you like your job?” she asked, intercepting whatever he might have said in response to her suggestion that he switch assignments with Deputy Black. “I mean, is it everything you’d hoped it would be?”
