Say You're Sorry

by Karen Rose

“I don’t know him,” Gideon said with a slight frown.

  “He’s new. This is his first placement, but he comes highly recommended by his superiors at Quantico. Don’t be difficult with him.”

  Gideon blinked at that. “I hadn’t planned to.”

  “You’re just the type to ditch him and do your own thing.”

  Gideon looked at the woman sleeping in his arms. “I won’t. I promise. Because he’ll be keeping Daisy safe, too.”

  There was a beat of silence. “All right,” she said, her tone softening. “Schumacher called me. She found the beige car on the pet store’s surveillance tape.”

  Gideon hoped he sounded surprised. “She did? Where?”

  “Pffft. You youngsters all think you’re so brilliant. I know you found it first, but I’m giving her credit for it.”

  “That’s fine with me. I want him caught. I don’t care who does it.”

  “Hm. That I actually believe.” She let out a breath. “The nurse’s body washed up on the riverbank. We’re looking now at current models to see where she was dumped.”

  Gideon sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that.” And sorry that Daisy would feel guilty. “What else did Schumacher say? Have they found any leads on Eileen?”

  “They met the Danton woman, the one who helped Eileen.”

  “And me.”

  “And you. For which we are all appropriately grateful.”

  He almost laughed at her stilted gratitude but realized that stilted was her go-to tone when she cared. “And Eileen?”

  “I’m only telling you because Detective Sokolov probably will. They found the diner where she worked. The owner had surveillance tapes but they were grainy. He remembered a man giving her a hard time. He nearly threw the guy out. That was two months ago. When Schumacher and the detectives found the day on the tape, they saw a man who looked like the man on the pet store surveillance tape.”

  Two months. Eileen’s been dead for two months. Gideon’s heart tripped, and he focused on staying calm so the nurse didn’t come in and yell at them. “So we have a face?”

  “Not a great one, but better than we had before. We’ve put out a BOLO. That’s all I have, Agent Reynolds. I’ll let you go back to ‘not working.’”

  She’d said it lightly, trying to make him smile, but he didn’t have a smile in him. Eileen had been dead for two months. She’d had a single month of freedom between running from the monsters of Eden and falling into the hands of a sociopath. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He ended the call and let his head fall back on the pillow. Brutus sat up on her haunches and stared at him, head tilted, bat ears sticking out so far it was comical. She looked like a cross between Yoda and Gizmo, from Gremlins.

  That made him smile. A little. And he was suddenly so tired, he couldn’t hold his eyes open.

  He woke abruptly, sensing a presence at his side, then relaxed at the sight of Irina and Karl standing together on one side of his bed.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t wake her up. She was up all night.” Crying, but he kept that to himself.

  Wearing an impossible grin, Irina pointed to the other side of his bed and Gideon slowly turned his head, dread instantly a live thing in his gut. Shit. The tall man bore no real resemblance to the woman using him as a human pillow. Except they shared a certain set of their mouths when they were annoyed.

  Which her father seemed to be at the moment as he looked down at the two of them.

  “Mr. Dawson,” Gideon murmured, somehow managing to keep his voice level and somewhat dignified.

  “Agent Reynolds,” Dawson said with a nod. He gave his daughter a pointed glance.

  “She was awake crying all night,” Gideon said quietly. “This has been very hard for her. So if we’re going to do the macho handshake thing and the stay-away-from-my-daughter speech, perhaps you can wait until she wakes up.”

  The man stared down at him for a long moment. Then his lips twitched. “It’s nice to meet you, Agent Reynolds,” he said, his tone as low as Gideon’s had been.

  “Gideon. And likewise.”

  He glanced over at Irina, whose smile was very smug. “You might as well sit.”

  She did so, like a queen taking the throne. Frederick took the other chair, leaving Karl to perch on the arm of Irina’s seat. “We talked to the doctor,” Irina whispered. “He’ll be releasing you in an hour or so. You’ll probably need physical therapy. Cash says to tell you he’ll do it.”

  “Cash” was Cassian Sokolov, Sasha’s twin. He was one of the physical therapists contracted by Sacramento’s basketball team and traveled with the team. “He doesn’t have time for that.”

  “He says he’ll make time,” Karl said. “And I feel like we’re in a library, all this whispering.”

  Gideon smiled at that, then turned to see Frederick’s gaze locked on his daughter, the man’s worry clear. “She talked to her sponsor this morning,” Gideon told him. “She’s okay.”

  “She doesn’t sleep like that,” Frederick murmured. “So deeply. She normally sleeps like an antsy cat.”

  “Maybe she feels safe with our Gideon,” Irina said knowingly.

  Gideon rolled his eyes, relieved when the motion no longer sent a spike of pain through his head. “Your Gideon is right here.” He lifted a brow. “Did you bring me any food?” He hadn’t smelled anything, but there could be all manner of treats in Irina’s humongous handbag.

  “Brought you some more of the pirozhki.” She patted her purse. “But you’ll have to let her go to eat it.”

  Well, that was a no-brainer. “I’ll wait then.”

  Irina’s smile was so bright Gideon thought he’d have to shield his eyes. But he glanced over to see Dawson still looking worried.

  “What’s been done to find the man who did this?” he asked.

  Gideon told them what was happening, not mentioning that the man had been within touching distance of Dawson’s daughter. “Right now we’re gathering information.”

  “While he’s out there, planning his next attack,” Dawson growled.

  “I’ll have FBI protection,” Gideon said, mentally thanking Molina again. “So Daisy will have it as well.”

  Frederick looked only mildly mollified. “I saw what you did there. Capitalizing on my need to see her safe as a way to keep her close to you.”

  But he didn’t look angry. Just scared as hell. Join the club.

  “Guilty as charged,” Gideon said lightly and was saved from any further conversation by the rapping at his door. Dr. Grisham, his surgeon. Saved by the doctor.

  “Mr. Reynolds?” Grisham asked. “I need to do a recheck before I can release you. Would everyone mind clearing the room? Including the young lady.”

  Gideon bounced his shoulder, jostling Daisy. “Time to wake up.”

  She groaned softly. “Don’t wanna,” she slurred.

  Gideon bounced her again. “Eleanor,” he said sharply.

  Daisy woke in a flash, bolting to sit ramrod straight, her face instantly blushing when she saw that they were no longer alone. “I must have fallen asleep.”

  Gideon grinned. “Like a log. But the doctor’s here, so you’ll need to cut out for a few.”

  Daisy rubbed her hands over her face. “Okay. I think.”

  “Come on, Daisy.” Dawson helped his daughter to her feet, scooping up a yawning Brutus. Brutus went in her bag with no fuss. “We’ll get a coffee. That’ll wake you up.”

  Irina leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Come home with us. Let me take care of you.”

  Gideon wanted to be taken care of. “That sounds good. Thank you.”

  When the room was empty of everyone but him and the doctor and a smirking nurse, the doctor smiled. “You have a nice family.”

  “I do.” And he’d kept too many secrets from them. Brushing the guilt aside for the tim
e being, he focused on his fingers. “They still don’t move. My fingers, I mean.”

  “Yes, they do. I could see them from the doorway as I watched. You were drumming your fingers when the man in the chair helped move your girlfriend from the bed.”

  Gideon stared down at his fingers. “I was? Huh. He’s her father and this was our first meeting. I guess I might have been a little distracted.”

  The doctor chuckled. “Some first meeting.” He checked the stitches and nodded. “You’re looking good. No infection, no tearing. I’ll have the nurse reapply the dressing and give you a list of instructions and a prescription for a painkiller.”

  “No narcotics. They mess with my head.”

  The doctor looked exasperated. “You law enforcement types. This is the real deal, Agent Reynolds—you need to sleep. If you are in pain, you will not sleep. If you do not sleep, you will not heal. If you do not heal, you cannot go back to work or protect the woman you didn’t want to let go of not five minutes ago.”

  Gideon blinked. “You play dirty, Doc.”

  The doctor nodded. “You’re not my first obstinate patient. I’ve been on this carousel before. Take the damn pills. And rest. And do not do anything physical.”

  Wait. That didn’t sound good. “What if something physical is done to me?”

  The doctor’s lips twitched and the nurse coughed to cover a laugh.

  “Well, if that’s the case, enjoy. Just don’t move your arm.” The doctor signed off on the paperwork with a flourish. “You and your entourage are going home.”

  He left and the smirking nurse moved to his side. “Your mom was telling everyone what a hero you are.”

  Gideon’s heart squeezed. Hard. “She’s actually not my mom.” Like hell she wasn’t. Irina Sokolov had mothered him from the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

  The nurse looked surprised. “She sure talks like she is.” She patted his good arm. “Either way, you’ve got a great group taking care of you. Now hold still. I’m going to redress your incision.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

  MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 3:15 P.M.

  “Thank you, Agent Hunter,” Daisy said to the special agent Gideon’s boss had sent to escort them home from the hospital. “I appreciate you being willing to stop here.”

  “Not a problem, ma’am,” he said. “Just let me go in first to make sure it’s safe.”

  She unlocked the door to her apartment and allowed him to go in, following when he gave the all-clear. Gideon, her father, Karl, and Irina were on her heels. Karl and Irina had their own car, but they’d followed them over, Karl’s protective instincts kicking in despite the presence of Agent Hunter.

  “Daisy!” her father exclaimed in horror as he turned a full circle, taking in the clutter of her apartment. “What the hell have you done?”

  Daisy stood in the middle of her living room, unable to speak. Suddenly she was a child again, unsure of what to say next. A sarcastic answer had sometimes gotten her a laugh. Other times it got her sent to her room and extra chores.

  Only Taylor had been able to walk the fine line of her father’s moods. Suddenly Daisy wished her sister were there.

  Luckily, Gideon had no such issues. “She made it hers,” he said to her father. “I love the murals, especially the one of the street outside. She’s captured the life of the neighborhood, don’t you agree?”

  Frederick opened his mouth, closed it, then coughed. “Yes. Of course. The paintings are very good, Daisy.”

  Daisy wanted to roll her eyes. Her father was trying. But not succeeding. Even when he tried to be supportive, he came off sounding condescending and stiff.

  “They are very good,” Karl said with appreciation. “I’ve seen murals at art shows that aren’t nearly this quality. You didn’t tell me you could paint like this, Daisy. We need to talk about how to use this talent of yours. Maybe for fund-raisers. Or even a city beautification project. I was talking with the arts council . . .”

  “She teaches a class at the community center,” Gideon said, gentle pride in his voice.

  Daisy’s cheeks heated. “It’s nothing much.”

  “It’s important to the community,” Gideon insisted. “And the fabric over there? She made costumes for the drama club at the same center. They did The Little Mermaid and she made all the mer-tails. And Ursula’s costume.”

  “That production raised money for the LGBTQ youth shelter,” Irina said. “Sasha and I went to one of the performances. It was wonderful.”

  Frederick closed his eyes. “I messed up again, didn’t I?”

  Daisy leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Yeah, but I’m still glad you’re here.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.” Frederick winced at the clutter. “This is a lot of stuff.”

  She smiled up at him. “I know. You should see what I sent back to the store.”

  Gideon snorted. “She said the same thing to me. I was also a little overwhelmed.”

  She looked at Gideon over her shoulder and he winked at her. He could handle her father and that made her feel so much better. “Go get your clothes, Daisy. I want to get out of here and to the big house. I need a slice of Irina’s honey cake.”

  “I made one this morning,” Irina told him. “Just for you.”

  Daisy hurried to the back corner that housed her bedroom, grateful for the screen that closed off the area, giving her a little privacy. She’d felt off-kilter ever since waking up in Gideon’s hospital bed a few hours before.

  She and Gideon had watched four episodes of Buffy and the next thing she’d known Gideon was waking her up from a sound sleep.

  And then she’d been promptly mortified to see her father, Karl, and Irina gathered around Gideon’s hospital bed. She’d slept through their conversation. She wouldn’t have woken at all if Gideon hadn’t shaken her because the doctor had come to discharge him.

  Karl had brought Gideon a change of clothes so that he could clean up before leaving the hospital, and now he sat at her little dining table, freshly showered and shaved, with his arm in a sling. His jeans and UC Davis sweatshirt made him look so much younger, despite the silver strands threaded among his thick dark hair.

  She now knew what it felt like to rake her fingers through his hair. She wanted to do it again. She wanted more of what they’d done Saturday night. A lot more.

  But it would have to wait until they were truly alone, if that ever happened again.

  She shook her head at her own dramatics. Rosemary was right. It had been only three and a half days. She needed to slow it down. Do it right.

  Besides, one of them would have to go to the drugstore for more condoms. She wasn’t sure what had happened to the contents of his car. She’d taken both of their laptops, but Gideon’s gun, his rifle, and their overnight bags were still AWOL.

  Probably in an evidence locker somewhere.

  Thus, no condoms. Thus, no fun. Well, maybe they could have other fun.

  “Daisy!” Irina called. “Do you need help, dear?”

  “No, thank you.” She tossed enough clothes for a few days into the bag, then packed her toiletry kit and zipped the suitcase.

  “I’ll take that,” Frederick said. “Karl got food for Brutus. Is everything unplugged?”

  Daisy nodded, looking around to be sure she hadn’t left anything plugged in or turned on. Her father used to check every electrical outlet three times before they left the house and that was before they’d gone into hiding.

  All the signs for anxiety had been there. Why hadn’t anyone helped him?

  That, she supposed, was a discussion for another day. Because even though he’d shown improvement, he still wasn’t whole. And that hurt Daisy’s heart far more than his disapproval ever had.

  “I’m ready, Agent Hunter,” she said, taking another coat from the closet. The one she’d been w
earing had been caked with Gideon’s blood the last time she’d seen it. She didn’t think she’d be able to wear it again, even if the dry cleaner worked a miracle.

  He ushered Daisy, Gideon, and Frederick to the SUV he’d parked in Rafe’s garage, making sure they were all buckled in before he lifted the garage door. Daisy and Gideon were in the middle seats, her father riding shotgun with their escort.

  The Sokolovs were in Karl’s Tesla, also parked in the garage.

  Both vehicles had begun to back out as soon as the garage door opened, when, from the corner of her eye, Daisy saw a woman running toward them. “Excuse me!” the woman called, waving her arm.

  “Down!” Gideon barked, popping his and Daisy’s seat belts. As soon as they were free, he grabbed her by the coat and hauled them down.

  “I think it’s just one woman, Gideon,” Daisy said quietly.

  “She could be armed,” he bit out, his face gone pale. He’d moved his arm awfully fast. He was probably in pain. “You stay down.”

  “He’s right,” Frederick said, his voice gone steely. “We’ll take care of the woman.”

  Daisy pitied anyone who got on the wrong side of that voice. “Okay. Just saying.” She touched Gideon’s face. “Did you hurt your arm?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted gruffly. “So don’t make me have hurt it in vain. Stay down.”

  Daisy raised her brows. “Guilt trip much?”

  Gideon’s lips quirked in a fast smirk before pressing together. “Will it work?”

  “Probably,” she grumbled.

  She heard a cough—her father covering a laugh. “Well played, Gideon.”

  Agent Hunter rolled his window down. “Stand back, ma’am. And keep your hands where I can see them.”

  “Um . . .” the woman stammered. “You have a gun. Pointed at me.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m Special Agent Hunter. Who are you?”

  “My name is Nina Barnes.”

  “She’s from the TV news,” Daisy said. “She interviewed me on Friday.”

  “Get her ID,” Gideon instructed. “If her ID’s a match, she’s legit.”

  “It’s a match,” Hunter reported. “It’s your call, Miss Dawson.”