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singing to him as I punched in the code.”
That sounded like a solid memory, unfortunately. The idea that this highly advanced system had been on when the intruder arrived worried him because it meant the intruder knew how to turn it off. So either they were dealing with a tech expert way beyond the typical, garden-variety thief, or the intruder was someone she knew and trusted. He wasn’t sure which possibility was worse.
But either way, she deserved to know what they were dealing with.
“From what you described to me,” he said, “it doesn’t sound like the security system was on when you got home. Who else knows the code? A housekeeper, maybe?” He took a deep breath. “Boyfriend?”
She shot him a withering look. “I have a full-time job and a baby. Romance isn’t a high priority these days.”
Jason didn’t bother to process why her words sent a wave of relief crashing through his soul.
“What about Julia? Does she still clean for you?”
The Harrisons’ housekeeper had always been gracious to him as a kid.
“Yes, but I change the code every week. She calls me when she gets here, and I give her the new code.”
“You change the code every week?”
“Heidi is a stickler about it. I change it every Sunday night.”
The weight of her words hit him hard. “Caroline, whoever this guy is, he was able to come inside and disable your security system. We have to consider the possibility that he is highly skilled and he’s been watching you and your family and knew you were up here alone tonight.”
Caroline’s hand shook as she reached for her glass and took a sip. “So this wasn’t a random attack. You think he was targeting me on purpose.”
“Right. And he may not be done.”
The knock at the door startled Caroline. The way Jason’s hand flew to the gun at his waist told her it had caught him off guard, as well.
“Open up.” Hearing Michael’s voice put Caroline at ease, but Jason didn’t remove his hand from his weapon.
“You didn’t answer your phone, man,” Michael called. “We had the guys grab sub sandwiches, and if you don’t like what’s on yours, you have no one to blame but yourself. Open up.”
It was almost ten o’clock. He hadn’t eaten? Her cheeks burned with the realization that coming to her rescue had interrupted his evening plans. “I’m so sorry. You should have told me.”
He waved her off. “I had a candy bar. I’m fine.”
He opened the door, and Michael held out a cellophane bag. “Got you a club. There’s a bag of chips in there, too.” He smiled at Caroline. “Don’t worry about anything tonight. Dalton and I will keep a close eye on things.”
“Wha—”
“Thanks, man. I’ll talk to you in a little while.” Jason closed the door on the still-smiling Michael before he could say another word.
“What was he talking about?”
“Just a precaution. You’re up here alone with Henry and—”
“And someone knows how to get into my house.”
Jason studied the contents of his bag instead of replying.
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s sit down in the kitchen. You eat, and we’ll catch up on the last thirteen years.”
“Mind if I wash up first?”
Caroline pointed out the bathroom door and walked into her kitchen. When the click of the door reached her ears, she slid onto a bar stool.
What was happening? Why was it happening? And why did Jason Drake have to be the one responsible for her case?
Jason.
Part of her longed to have him sitting beside her. Shoulders touching, feet propped up on the coffee table—the way they’d watched hours of Duke basketball games in their teens.
Part of her wanted to kick him out and tell him to stay away forever.
It wouldn’t be easy, but it could be done. She’d been doing it quite successfully for the past few months. She’d avoided him, and any mention of him.
Why should she hide from him, though? She hadn’t done anything wrong, and she had nothing to apologize for. The way things had ended between them was embarrassing, but surely he couldn’t think she still had feelings for him. What happened was ancient history. And if the sheriff thought he was the best person to close this case, then she had to trust in that. She couldn’t take any risks when it came to her safety or Henry’s.
“Caroline, are you okay?”
Her stomach somersaulted at his voice. Ancient history or current event?
No. She’d learned her lesson. Jason Drake had been a fabulous friend, but he’d made it clear he wanted nothing more. “I’m fine.” She pointed him to a seat at the table. “Let me get you some tea.” History shouldn’t be repeated. For tonight, she’d be thankful she had a friend looking out for her. For the future, she’d remember to look out for herself.
Jason sat, and she didn’t miss the weariness on his face as he bowed his head in thanks.
When he lifted his head, he didn’t hesitate. “I still have a lot of questions,” he admitted.
“What do you want to know?”
Jason swallowed. “Let’s start with Henry.”
Or course he would want to know about Henry. “I’m surprised your mom hasn’t given you all the details.”
He took a drink of his tea. “She’s given me some of them. What she couldn’t explain to me was how you wound up with Stephanie’s baby boy.”
“I’m still trying to figure that out, myself.” She straightened the fringe on her place mat. “Stephanie and I didn’t always agree, but we stayed close after high school. She was going to be my maid of honor.”
The memory of those days after Chad’s death tugged at the edges of Caroline’s mind. They would always be dark, but they no longer held the power to suck her into despair. Now they brought deep sadness and the ever-present question of what might have been.
Jason held her eyes. “I was sorry to hear about what happened to your fiancé, Caroline.”
“Thank you.” What else could she say? When Jason left, she’d moved on, and then the only man who could have possibly blotted out the memory of Jason had been taken too soon by a drunken driver. The idea that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all came to mind. At this point, she wasn’t so sure about that.
And what happened when the one you lost came back?
She shook off the direction of her thoughts. “I finished school, came home and went to work for Dad. Stephanie went to work at the bank and got transferred out to the coast three years ago. We kept in touch, sporadically. A year later, she came home one weekend, and I knew things were different.”
Caroline remembered everything about that night. The garlic butter dripping onto the tablecloth, the exact shade of terra-cotta red that rimmed the pasta bowl, the opera music that filtered into the restaurant. And Stephanie. Fidgety. Eyes too bright. A smile that threatened to break into a goofy grin at any moment. “She’d gotten married. Said it was a civil ceremony and she was sorry she hadn’t told me earlier. A month later, she was pregnant and making plans to move to the Midwest with her Prince Charming.”
Jason pulled a few Doritos from the