“I was thinking dinner and a movie, but yeah.” Connor touched his head and felt the bandage. At least the urge to projectile vomit had subsided, but he guessed it would return with a vengeance if he moved too fast or the wrong way.

Ben frowned as his gaze searched Connor’s face. “You sure you don’t have an enemy back home that might have followed you here to Whitaker?”

Connor stilled. “Are you serious?”

“Let’s pretend I am.”

“I want to make sure I get this theory of yours.” Connor waited for Ben to nod before continuing. “You think the attacker was angry with me back in D.C., so they got on a plane, then a ferry to follow me here, in order to tell me to go the hell back home.”

“Huh.”

Exactly. Connor couldn’t make that stretch work with any amount of mental gymnastics. “I’m struggling with the logic of that.”

“I get that, but logic isn’t always the right motivator in cases like this.” Ben stepped up to the bed. He wore jeans and a zip-up hoodie. Not the usual police gear but it seemed to fit with the laid-back style of the island on display so far. “Still, you make a good point.”

“Hansen said you were practical.” Connor turned his head and . . . yep, there it was. A vicious rush of bile. That’s all it took to convince him not to try that again. “Any chance this is left over from the mess with Hansen and the guy who killed my sister?”

For a few seconds Ben just stood there, not saying a word. “You don’t even use his name.”

Connor didn’t pretend to be confused. He knew who Ben meant. His sister’s killer. “He’s taken up enough of my family’s time and energy. He was a predator and deserved the end he got.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Ben nodded as nurses passed behind him and a few crowded at the monitor directly across from Connor’s bed. “It is hard to see how this could be connected to that since that’s been over for months. That guy is dead. Your brother is back home. Things have been quiet around here since the end of summer and now we’re heading into winter.”

“Quiet until I got here.”

“Well, it is hard to ignore the timing and your head wound.” Ben shrugged. “At least tying the past to this injury would be an explanation.”

Connor really couldn’t come up with another one. Even a business competitor gone rogue wouldn’t engage in this sort of thing. “I’m usually the nonproblematic brother.”

“That’s what I was told.” Ben turned and greeted the woman who stepped into the space with them. “Good evening, doc.”