Too Close to Home (24 page)

She supposed that’s where faith came in to play. Faith and the fact that God wanted every person to have the opportunity to know him. What if he came back now? Where would Connor end up? Tom? She shuddered and decided she was glad she wasn’t God.

Samantha picked up her phone and dialed Connor’s cell number.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Connor. How’s your Saturday going?”

“Much better now that you’re on the other end of the line.”

Sam felt herself flush, a little disconcerted to realize she felt exactly the same. Clearing her throat, she said softly, “Yeah, I know how you feel.”

Silence greeted her and she grinned to herself. She’d thrown him.

“We’ll talk about that one later.” The husky touch to his voice sent shivers down her spine. He continued, “I’m tracking down that receipt you found in Miranda’s closet.”

“The one from that fancy boutique downtown?”

“Yeah. Rene’s.”

“Did you find out anything?”

“The woman working remembers Miranda coming in. She came alone with a fistful of cash and bought that dress.”

Sam poured herself a cup of the steaming brew. “Did Miranda tell her anything about what she was doing? Where she was going?” She took a sip and closed her eyes as she swallowed. Delicious.

“Unfortunately, no. But she said she’d had one other girl come in and do the same thing. One of the girls who’s still missing.”

“Which one?”

“Sydney Carter.”

“So, do we need to be checking all the high-class dress shops and see if any of the other girls had cash to spend?”

“That’s my next move. You’ll be proud of me. I delegated.”

Samantha gave a light chuckle. “You’re right, I am proud of you. Good job.”

“What are you up to?”

“I . . . wanted to ask you something. Something that might be really painful for you to do.”

A pause. “All right.”

“Would you be willing to bring Jenna and come to church with me tomorrow?”

Another significant pause. “If Jenna wants to go, I’ll let her. I’m not interested.” Another pause. “Actually, I think she’s going to go to that sleepover with the kids from the church, so . . .”

Sadness pierced her heart. If he absolutely refused to give God another try, she’d have to do something to distance herself from him. As much as she liked him, could easily see herself falling in love with him, she wouldn’t—couldn’t—tie herself to him. She needed a man who shared her faith, her love for God, and her need to worship that God. And if Connor wouldn’t . . .

Samantha forced a smile into her voice. “So you haven’t sent her off yet?”

He groaned. “No, but I haven’t given up on the idea yet. I know she’ll fight it with everything in her, and I . . . well, I don’t really want her that far away from me unless it absolutely has to be that way.”

“I understand and don’t blame you a bit.”

“I’ve warned her about taking extra precautions and being supercareful. I’ll confess that I’ve got someone watching her during the time she’s away from the house. I don’t worry so much when she’s at home.”

“Ooh. Bet that went over well.”

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t exactly tell her, but I don’t expect it to be long before she notices. If Jenna decides not to go to the sleepover and agrees to go with you, just bring her back to Mom’s when you’re finished.”

“You know, Connor, this could be time you spend with Jenna.”

He didn’t say anything at first, then, “I’ll . . . think about it. I just don’t know how I’ll feel . . . going back there.”

“I know. I have to admit, I’m struggling with that myself, but one of the reasons I think we all need to go back is to face the evil that happened there . . . and . . . and . . .
defeat it
, I guess is the right way to put it. I know there will be people who’ll never set foot on that property again, but the majority of us want to. We don’t want the ‘bad guy’ to win. It might help you to have a good experience there. One with your daughter.”

“Like I said, I’ll think about it.”

“Okay, I’ll quit pushing. I just . . . care about you and Jenna. I hate to see the two of you hurting.”

His voice was husky when he thanked her and hung up.

Samantha looked heavenward. “Please help him, Lord. They both need you so much.”

Connor hung up. After hitting a dead end with the boutique, he’d stopped at a small café on Main street to order a latte and call Samantha, but she’d beat him to the call.

Staring at his phone, he thought about what she’d said. About going back to the church where Andrew had been killed. It wasn’t the property’s fault, it probably wasn’t even God’s fault. And that was hard to admit, because even as angry as Connor was at the way things were happening, he still believed in an all-powerful God. Which meant God
could
have stopped it all from going down the way it did.

Samantha had said not to make Andrew’s death about him. He swallowed hard. She was right. That would be a pretty selfish thing to do. And yet . . . if God hadn’t let Andrew die to punish Connor, why had it happened? Why had his wife died? Why was someone out there killing kids? Why was his relationship with Jenna slowly circling the drain?

Andrew’s voice came back to him. “You’re going to lose her.” His mother’s blunt words. “You’d better do something or you’re going to lose her.” Even Samantha’s insight. “I’m worried about you and Jenna.”

He stood, reached into his pocket to grab some change for a tip. Tossing the coins on the table, he saw the Corvette key mixed in with them. The grief came out of nowhere, hitting him hard. Picking up the key, he studied it, remembered the joking and laughing with Andrew. Connor had given Andrew such a hard time about that car, making Andrew promise to will it to him.

Laughing about death seemed to keep it . . . distant, like it couldn’t touch them if they mocked it. And now . . .

Pocketing the key, Connor walked from the café to climb in his black Ford Mustang. The car Jenna made him promise she could have when she started driving. He’d actually bought it with her in mind.

And then an idea started to form, and as he thought about it, for the first time in a long time, he felt anticipation. Excitement. And a way to spend some time with Jenna that not even she would say no to.

He dialed her number. “Hello?”

“Hey, I had an idea.”

“What?”

Connor winced at the flat sound in her voice, but held steady. “Are you ready to learn to drive?” Complete silence echoed across the line. “Hey, you there?”

“Are you serious?” she blurted. Suppressed excitement shivered in her voice.

“Yep, it’s Saturday. And . . . I . . . want to spend a few hours of it with you, teaching you to drive. That is, if you want. I know I haven’t exactly—”

She cut him off. “When can you be here?”

“In about ten minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Oh, Jenna, Samantha called and wants to know if you want to go back to church with her tomorrow. I know it might be too soon, but she asked so I wanted to let you know.”

“I . . . I don’t know. That girl from the youth group, Maria, called me, too and asked me to come. I liked it up until . . .”

“Well, if you want to go, call Samantha.” He rattled off her number. “And be ready to drive. See you in a few.”

“Okay. And Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Um . . . thanks.”

Warmth centered in his heart. “You’re welcome, darling.” He hung up, a new purpose filling him. Maybe it wasn’t too late after all.

Samantha hung up and grabbed her keys. It was still early and things were looking up. Jamie wanted to meet for brunch, Jenna had decided to go on the sleepover and sounded excited about it. During the conversation with Jenna, Samantha had also learned that Connor’s parents attended a small church not far from their home, but they didn’t have much of a youth group, and Jenna refused to go, calling it the blue hair worship center.

However, she admitted she’d enjoyed meeting the kids her age last week at Samantha’s church before the shooting. She was willing to give it another try when she returned from the sleepover.

And Jenna was beyond excited because her dad was on his way home to teach her how to drive. Satisfaction filled Samantha. Connor was trying, reaching out.
Keep working on him, Lord.

Ten minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of The Smooth Berry and walked inside to see Jamie sitting in a corner booth—facing the door, of course. She waved and grinned.

Tom sat beside her. Annoyance at his presence slid through Samantha. Not that she didn’t like Tom, but she’d been looking forward to a little one-on-one sister time. Oh well. She kept the smile on her face and headed toward them.

“Hey, Tom, how are you doing?”

“Well, my nerves have finally settled down. How about you?” He plucked a chip from his bag. The rest of his food had yet to come.

“The same.” She looked at Jamie. “Did you order for me?” Jamie nodded. “Chicken Caesar salad, right?”

“Yep. I think I can handle one of those at 10:30 in the morning.”

Jamie shook her head in amusement at her sister’s eating preferences and Samantha kicked her under the table. They grinned at each other.

“Anything come back on that bomb?” Tom asked, immediately sobering the lighthearted mood.

“Nothing yet. I guess the lab guys are still going over everything.”

“Come on, you guys, can we talk about something else?” Jamie looked ready to burst.

Samantha laughed. “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“I’m graduating. In December.”

“What?!” Samantha squealed, jumping up to lean over and give her sister an awkward hug. “That’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you.” She settled back into her seat just as the food arrived.

“Jamie, that’s great.” Tom beamed at her, and Samantha once again saw more than just friendship in his eyes.

Hmm. Worry twinged her. She liked Tom, but she’d seen Jamie’s interest piqued by a certain FBI man and didn’t think Tom had a chance of capturing Jamie’s attention while she was enjoying getting to know Dakota.

“Jamie, you’ll be a doctor! I’ll have to call you Dr. Cash. My sister, a forensic anthropologist. Oh my goodness, that’s just crazy.”

Jamie’s face flushed at Samantha’s praise, but she laughed, her eyes dancing with joy and pride in herself.

“Well, Dr. Cash, brunch is on—” Tom stopped midsentence, his eyes on the silent television screen mounted on the wall in front of him.

Samantha turned to see what had captured her friend’s attention. The camera zoomed in on the smoldering remains of a house. “What happened?”

Closed captions ran across the bottom of the screen. She read aloud, “. . . a gas explosion happened last night, taking the lives of long-respected, veteran bomb squad member Calvin Calhoun and his nineteen-year-old son, Calvin Junior, better known as CJ.”

Shock held her captive. Surprise, regret, dread filled her all at once. Along with a certain awful suspicion. “Calvin?”

Jamie covered her sister’s hand. “Samantha, what’s wrong?”

“That’s Calvin, the man who saved our lives yesterday. He’s dead?” Tears clogged her throat at the thought of the man’s ten-year-old daughter. Oh no. How?

She tossed her napkin down on the table. “There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

Tom frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The guy who put that bomb in my car went after Calvin.”

“What? But that’s crazy. Why would you even suspect that?” Tom shook his head as he peppered Samantha with questions. “Why would he do that and how would he know which bomb squad member was involved? Come on, Sam, that’s ridiculous.”

Samantha threw her hands up. “Which question do I answer first? I don’t know how I know, I just do. This guy we’re after isn’t sane. Who knows why he’s doing the things he’s doing? As for Calvin, maybe this guy went after him for revenge for diffusing the bomb and messing up his plans. Maybe it was just for kicks.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “Or maybe he’s afraid Calvin saw something he shouldn’t have. I don’t know. All I know is that another good man is dead, and this guy has got to be stopped. And soon.” She stood, turning to her sister. “Sorry, Jamie, but I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you later.”

Jamie smiled, a sad smile, but one that said she understood. “Bye.”

The Agent watched her leave the restaurant. Her feet pounded the cement. Anger radiated from her. She would look even harder, work longer hours searching for answers, searching for him. But she wouldn’t find him. Would never understand that which she desperately sought. Tapping his lip with a finger, he pondered what he ought to do. Should he call Boss and ask for direction? No, Boss would just tell him to get rid of the problem. Successfully this time. Many more failures and Boss would be ready to get rid of
him.

He’d thought it would be simple. After all, he’d had no trouble killing before. Why was it so hard to get rid of Samantha Cash? Frustration rippled through him as he realized he’d made a mistake in not killing her when he’d had the chance. He should have blown the car the minute he could have done so without risk to himself. Now it looked like another opportunity might not present itself anytime soon.

He looked at her sister sitting there in the booth, innocent, oblivious to the danger surrounding her. Unfortunately, just being in Samantha’s presence could be lethal for her. The Agent smiled at the thought.

If something happened to her sister, Samantha would be devastated. The Agent was nothing if not observant. He’d seen the interaction between the sisters. Especially the day he’d put the bomb in her car. If Jamie disappeared, maybe Samantha’s focus would be diverted from her case, buying him a little more time to finish up his business, tie up any loose ends, and get out of town.

Once again he considered his options. No, Samantha and the cop were the ones who had to go. Samantha knew too much. Hmm. He took a sip from the Smooth Berry travel mug. Man, this place made good coffee.

So, about Samantha and the cop she seemed to be falling for.

He’d think on it and make the best decision.

Jenna pulled into the driveway, laughing at the stunned expression on her father’s face. He unclipped his seat belt and turned to face her. “Where’d you learn to drive?”