Tim and Brian Sullivan were walking through the parking garage discussing the possibility of Clare visiting her grandparents when he got the call, "Excuse me." To the phone, "Gutterson… Hey, Raylan..."
Brian nodded and they both stood stupidly in the middle of the lane when Brian decided to use the remote start on his Volvo.
Tim was just listening to Raylan say Clare had a bad feeling when the Volvo exploded.
Raylan's eyes jumped to Clare when he heard the explosion. "Tim… Tim?"
Her knuckles were white on the back of a chair until Raylan's expression changed as he heard, "We're ok. Brian Sullivan's car just exploded. I gotta call this in. Tell Clare I'll be by as soon I can. I-," Tim sighed, "I'll be there soon."
Tim clicked off and Raylan set his phone down. "He and Brian are fine," Raylan started, "Brian's car exploded while I was talking to him. Do you know why?"
Clare came around the chair and sat with a thud. She shook her head, "Not unless it's my fault for coming back."
"Your fault?"
"Well, someone wants me gone. Frames me for corruption, puts a price on my head, and tries to kill my family. Not to sound arrogant, but I think someone really doesn't like me."
Fair point. Raylan nodded, "He'll be over as soon as he can."
"I know," she said absently, pulling her knees to her chest like a child.
"You know?"
She nodded. "I do. What's gonna happen to Brian now?"
Raylan's phone rang and he said, reaching for it, "I don't know." Answering Art, he made for the kitchen. "Where do you want me?"
"Bring Clare into the office. We'll get that family reunion outta the way and I want to talk to them together. This family's starting to affect my easygoing demeanor."
Raylan spared a thought to that 'easygoing demeanor' before shuddering. "We'll be there in 20."
Art hung up with a grunt and Raylan told Clare they were headed back to the office.
When Raylan and Clare arrived at the office, Rachel was calming Brian Sullivan's wife, Gretchen and three kids. Tim, Art and Agent Keaton, of the BATF, were talking to Brian in the conference room and various other agencies were milling around.
Brian's teenaged daughter was the first to notice them, lunging for Clare and nearly knocking her off her feet. "Clare-bear!"
Brian rose, watching his daughter and niece hug before his eyes met Tim's. He may not like Clare, but Brian Sullivan certainly seemed to have a healthy respect for family.
Raylan went for the conference room, dodging dirty looks from Rachel. "Hey."
Art cleared his throat, "Can you and Rachel make sure the family is situated? We'll talk to Dr. Lidet shortly."
Raylan nodded and closed the door, returning to a much smugger Rachel. "Mrs. Sullivan, this Deputy Givens. Raylan, Gretchen Sullivan, Brian's wife, and their kids, Ethan, Evan, and Isobel."
The boys were about eight or nine, the wife was a well-preserved late-thirties and Isobel was the anti-Loretta in Ralph Lauren, still with an arm around Clare.
Clare, for her part, had an arm around Isobel too. Not letting go as she hugged her aunt and cousins before sitting and pulling one of the boys into her lap, keeping one eye on Tim.
"We'll be putting you all in protection tonight while we clear the home since it was unattended all day," Rachel began.
"Can we stay with Clare?" Isobel asked. Rachel glanced at Clare, who nodded.
"We can certainly look into it," Rachel promised.
"No, I don't know who'd try to blow up my car," Brian Sullivan said for the fourteen millionth time. "Short of the CEO of Morley Enterprises. I don't piss very many people off, Chief Mullen."
"Oh, you'd be surprised," Art smiled mirthlessly as Agent Keaton's phone rang, Art nodded for him to take it.
As Keaton left, Tim asked, "What about Morley?"
"They're a business competitor. No, I don't seriously think Edgar Moss would try to kill me, but he has been trying to worm his way in since before Clare left."
"Does he know Clare?"
"Yes, from business and cocktail parties and the like. They've met. I think he genuinely likes her, too," Brian seemed rather puzzled by that. "When she was accused, and with the arrest, he called and talked to her. He told me himself he thought the charges were obscene. Didn't stop him from using it against us though."
Art and Tim exchanged glances.
"Has Edgar Moss called lately?" Art rubbed the back of his head.
Brian looked at him, "Yesterday afternoon. He said he heard Clare had been vindicated. Said it was about time. Asked if she'd be coming back to town, too."
Brian Sullivan had gone expressionless again, reminding Tim unhealthfully of Wynn Duffy himself. "Mr. Sullivan, we will need to speak to Mr. Moss. But you need to be aware that nothing can happen to Mr. Moss. Is that clear? No calling Wynn Duffy and asking for a favor."
"Wynn Duffy? I haven't spoken to him in years. Gretchen and I redid the security when we remodeled the house a couple of years ago. What does he have to do with this?"
Art and Tim gaped for a moment at his seeming honesty. "How much research did you do on Mr. Duffy before you hire him for your home security, Mr. Sullivan?" Art asked.
"Low level Dixie Mafia, with a better record than any system advertised on cable. I thought it was better I pay him for protection than wait for him to decide to rob us. I changed to group of returning Marines, Duffy said he was sorry to lose my business, but nothing ever came of it."
"When was this?"
"Two years ago. After Clare left. Is this even about her, Chief? Or was she just a pawn to distract?"
"It's looking that way," Tim answered, to Art's derision.
"Do not do anything, Mr. Sullivan," Art cautioned as Agent Keaton knocked on the window. "Go and see your family. I've gotta talk to my people."
Raylan and Rachel joined the conference room powwow while Clare and the Sullivan's sat in the bullpen. Tim's eyes met Clare's more than once and he was reminded how she knew to roll off that log into the Rockcastle in Daniel Boone.
His attention was returned to the matter at hand when Keaton said, "Well, it wasn't a Crowder creation –no Emulex- but we've seen it before, over in Frankfurt. It was wired to the ignition and the gas tank. If Sullivan hadn't remote started..."
"Yeah, we know," Tim said. It hadn't been much, his ears had stopped ringing by the time he made it to the office after checking his own car, hadn't damaged more than the vehicles immediately around it. It had been a surgical strike at Brian Sullivan or a scare tactic for Clare. Neither option boded well.
"Clare's open to the Sullivan's being in the same safe house for tonight," Rachel said. "If we post more people there, we can consolidate their protection."
Art nodded. "I wanna dangle Lidet as bait tomorrow," he said, watching Tim's face, "Try to coax the sucker out. Have her talk to this Edgar Moss, too."
Tim nodded. "We can arrange a meeting at their office. And Clare wanted to go shopping, we can stake out a shopping center, too."
Keaton raised an eyebrow, "Ambitious. Look, I'll get this report to you ASAP, but I gotta get back to the scene."
Art shook his hand and turned to Tim, "What shopping center?"
Clare watched the agent leave and Tim turn to his boss. Her stomach continued twisting as her heart ached. He'd nearly been killed. She'd nearly lost him. Didn't even really have him. Barely knew him. But the idea of him being gone was suffocating her.
Concern for her family was keeping her in her seat, concern for his career as well. But she needed to touch him, to feel he was alright. After a moment, he nodded at her and she let Izzie go with a squeeze of her shoulder and went over to him.
Tim pulled Clare into the locker room as soon as he had the chance. Pinning her to the closed door his kissed her silly and left them both breathless. He pulled back a few inches and she took a shuddering breath.
"I thought I lost you," she said in a small voice, touching his face with tears in her eyes. "Next time you talk to me. Don't give Raylan a message. You. Talk. To. Me."
He smiled, "I think your bad feeling saved my life. Brian's too."
"Good. Then you'll listen to it in the future. Jackass," she kissed him again.
"If you call, I'll listen, babe," he agreed, noting that she wasn't surprised by his comment at all. But he settled for just being happy to hold her. And that she wasn't demanding he never do it again.
She looked up at him, and he prepared himself for 'The Talk.' The one where he explained this was what he was and he wasn't changing. He was first one through the door, always, and he knew he was there for a reason. He was trained for it. He wasn't Raylan. He didn't look for trouble, but he wasn't wired to walk away from it. "Will you be staying with us tonight? Will your Chief let you?"
He blinked. "We haven't discussed it. But I'm taking you to the office and shopping tomorrow."
She let out a weak chuckle, "I was ready to settle for the Internet." She nodded, "Ok. You'll be with me?"
He nodded. "You're not mad?"
She looked so confused he had to kiss her again. "Mad at what?"
"At my job. At what I do."
"Baby, I do remember how we met. I know what you are," she kissed him, smiling. "I may still need to know who you are. But I've always known where you stand, cher."
He kissed her deeply, pressing his forehead to hers, "They asked you if you were staying? Your uncle's, before? What'd they mean?"
She sighed, peeved at not being kissed, "When I was doing my residency, I talking about traveling. Working with Doctors Without Borders or something. Before I spent three years practicing on the run, of course. I'm not going anywhere, Tim. You caught me. You're stuck with me. Blame your boss the next time he glowers at you."
He smiled, "I will, but he likes you."
She managed to mutter, "Liar," against his lips before he took her mouth and she lost her mind.