Cold Target by Patricia; Potter Page A

He was too rigid about proper behavior, and murder certainly wasn’t proper behavior. He was also too concerned with his public image.
    Yet in the back of her mind there was a seed of doubt. It was around that time that he had dropped his attempts to win a federal judgeship, a position she’d known he wanted. Badly.
    She dismissed the disloyal thought, took another bite, then rose. “I have to go, Detective.”
    â€œAre you going home now?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’ll go with you.” His gaze dueled with hers, warming her with the attention, the perusal that seemed to peel her layers back one at a time. Wanting to study him in the same way—too much—she dragged her gaze away. She distrusted the sparks that streaked between them. He was everything she disliked, a macho man who felt he should always be in charge.
    â€œNo.” She wanted to be alone when she surveyed the ruin again. She wanted to replace the underwear and bring some semblance of order to her home before anyone saw it. It was her life that lay in shambles there.
    Or perhaps she didn’t want Detective Gaynor in particular to see her vulnerability. Of all people, he was the last one she wanted to see the house as it was.
    He rose with a lazy grace that belied his size. “Thanks for the time. If you think of anything else—”
    â€œI’ll call you,” she said quickly. “Why is the Prescott case being opened now?” she asked after a pause.
    â€œI’m the low man on the totem pole now,” he said. “I get what they assign, and right now it’s a few of the cold cases. I’m sure you know that many of them are being reopened because of technology advances.”
    â€œBut isn’t there a separate cold case unit?”
    â€œThere is. Apparently someone wants to keep me out of trouble,” he said with an affable grin.
    She tried to tamp down the little jerk in her chest, stronger than it had been the last time he’d smiled. “But why Prescott?”
    â€œWhy not?” he replied, and ambled out of the office.
    She stared at the empty doorway, suddenly wishing she’d not turned down his offer. Somehow the “Why not?” didn’t answer her question. It only piqued her curiosity.
    She should have pushed him more. And maybe … she should have someone with her when she returned home.
    But her refusal was not entirely because she didn’t want him to see the shambles at home. She didn’t want to admit her fear. Not to him. Not to herself.
    She wouldn’t give anyone that victory.
    She could protect herself. She’d practiced at the police shooting range and had a gun permit, though she hadn’t carried a weapon since she’d left the district attorney’s office.
    She planned to remedy that today and felt it was something she needed to do on her own. Between the attacks on her and her home and the effect Detective Gaynor had on her, she’d lost enough control over the last few days.

seven
    N EW O RLEANS
    Charles Rawson closed the door to his luxurious office and picked up his phone. He was so angry that his fingers shook as he pushed one number and the memory on his phone did the rest.
    â€œAre you responsible for what happened to my daughter?” he said before any pleasantries were exchanged.
    â€œShe wasn’t hurt.”
    â€œShe might well have been. A friend from the police department called me. Dammit, you didn’t have to destroy her home.”
    â€œThere was no question of ‘might.’ The orders were quite clear. It will keep her busy for a while, won’t it?”
    Charles sat back in his chair and drew a long breath, trying to cool his anger. He had not expected this violent reaction to his news that his daughter had found out about her half sister and intended to try to find her.
    â€œLeave her alone,” he said.
    â€œI will, if you do your part. Control her,