Gavin didn’t plan to hold his breath. They’d probably ditch the Buick soon if they hadn’t already. “Thanks.” He climbed in the driver’s seat and shut the door. Sarah let out a long sigh. “You okay?” he asked her.

“I will be. Think I might have bitten off more than I can chew.”

“Yeah. Let’s get you home.”

Home.

Somehow Caden’s home had become hers in the short time she’d been there. Sarah lay on Caden’s couch with the remote in her right hand and a bottle of water in her left. She was sick of resting. She hadn’t been able to face getting back in the bed. And yet, her body demanded it. The couch was a good compromise.

Caden had been all over working to find out who the shooters were, but even Annie—one of the bureau’s best technical analysts—with her incredible resources hadn’t been able to discover who the sedan belonged to, although she’d concluded that the plates had been stolen from a car similar to the one they’d used.

Great.

Sarah set her water bottle on the coffee table and aimed the remote at the television.

“Hungry?” Gavin asked, stepping into the room, hands behind his back.

“Not really.”

“Not even for ice cream?”

Her taste buds perked up. “What kind?”

“Mint chocolate chip or strawberry.”

“Both.”

He smiled and pulled his hand from behind his back. “I thought that might be your answer.” He handed her the bowl that held four scoops of ice cream. Two of each flavor.

Her jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“A good guess.”

“Or Caden?”

“Nope, he’s not here. The credit is all mine.”

“That’s a lot of ice cream.”

“You can eat it. The calcium is good for you.”

“Yeah, but what about the sugar?” She took a bite of the creamy sweetness and closed her eyes to savor it. When she opened them, Gavin had taken a seat in the recliner. He eyed her with amusement. “What?” she asked.

“You really like ice cream, don’t you?”

Heat crept into her cheeks. She loved ice cream. “Shut up.” She said the words without rancor and earned herself a grin.

Which faded all too soon. “Someone tried to kill you today,” he said. “Or at least do some permanent damage.”

She raised a brow. “Me? Why couldn’t it be you?”

Gavin hesitated, seemed to think about something, then leaned forward. “Okay, I’m going to tell you something because I think you need to know it.”

She stilled. “What?”

“Your father’s been receiving threats.”

“What kind of threats?”

“He’s made some enemies in the Middle East. Most specifically in the Helmand and Kandahar provinces.”

“That doesn’t really surprise me. He has to make decisions that don’t always resonate well with others—especially terrorists.”