Say You're Sorry

by Karen Rose

  “The final detail,” Rafe said, giving Bain an appraising look, “is to make him think I’m you long enough to distract him while the SWAT team lines up their shot.”

  “What about Mercy?” Gideon asked, able to imagine the scene all too well. The bastard would hold Mercy at gunpoint. Once Carson realized he was surrounded . . . He shuddered, unable to think it.

  Rafe met his gaze, steady and calm. “I’ll get her away from him.”

  Gideon felt a new wave of dread, this time for the man who’d been a brother to him for sixteen years. What was Rafe planning? “How?”

  Rafe squeezed his arm. “I’ll find a way.”

  “A safe way,” Gideon gritted out.

  “Don’t worry,” Rafe said firmly. “I’m not planning to be his final victim.” He turned to Bain, the topic clearly closed. “You’re a forty long?”

  “Yes. You want one of my uniforms? I’ll get you one.”

  Rafe stood. “No offense, sir. You’ve been very helpful. But I’ll need to go with you.”

  Bain nodded once. “Of course.”

  When they left the room, Erin gave Gideon, Daisy, and Frederick a serious look. “You are not going. Are we clear?”

  Like hell I’m not. But Gideon held that back, nodding instead. “Yes, Detective.”

  A few minutes later, Rafe returned wearing a white captain’s uniform, complete with the cap. They were the same size, their hair different shades of blond, but close enough that if Rafe dipped his head to hide his face, he could pass for Bain from far enough away. Especially if it was dark.

  “Okay,” Rafe said. “This is how this is going down. Detective Rhee will sit with Mr. Bain while he makes his call. I will go into another room with the three of you.”

  Gideon started to protest, but Rafe held up his hand and kept talking. “From his cell phone, Mr. Bain will call my cell phone first. He’ll then call Carson back and merge the calls, so that we are conferenced together. Mr. Bain will have his phone on speaker so that Detective Rhee can hear. I will have my phone muted and on speaker so that you can hear, Gideon, but not interact.” He shot Gideon a look of apology. “If that’s not acceptable, Gid, the three of you will need to wait in the squad car outside.”

  Gideon started to object, then realized that Rafe was right. He wasn’t sure he could stay silent when he finally heard that sonofabitch’s voice. “That is acceptable,” he said roughly. “Thanks.”

  Relief flashed over Rafe’s face. “All right then. Let’s—”

  “Wait,” Frederick interrupted. “Won’t he see who else is on the call?”

  Erin shook her head. “No. He’ll only see that Mr. Bain has called him. That’s also what Detective Sokolov will see.”

  “Everybody good?” Rafe asked. When everyone nodded, he turned to Bain. “Make your call, please, and good luck. Just breathe and be yourself. The rest of you, come with me. Mr. Bain has allowed us to listen to the call from his sons’ bedroom.”

  Rafe answered Bain’s call as he led them to a child’s room with two twin beds and a small student desk. Rafe closed the door, still waiting for Bain to add the bastard to the call.

  Gideon slowly lowered himself to the bed with a Pikachu bedspread, feeling a hundred years old. Daisy sat next to him and Frederick sat on the bed covered in a Spider-Man spread while Rafe pulled the desk chair close to him.

  Just as Carson Garvey’s voice came from Rafe’s muted phone.

  “Hank,” Carson barked. “Where’s my fucking plane?”

  Gideon couldn’t suppress the growl that rose from his throat. Daisy rubbed his back comfortingly and Rafe grasped his forearm and squeezed, his expression sympathetic and without a trace of I told you so.

  Bain stammered his reply. “I c-can’t get you a plane, Carson. Not this minute,” he rushed to add when Carson started to curse. “The cops are everywhere at the airfield. It’ll be much better if you lay low until I can get you the plane. A day. Two tops.”

  “I’m listening,” Carson said warily.

  “My neighbor is gone for the whole month. He’s on a job in India. He’s not going to be coming back until the middle of March. I have keys to his car and his house. I can get keys to his cabin in Tahoe from his house. It’s remote and comfortable.”

  There was a long, long silence. Then, “All right. Laying low may make more sense. If anyone gives me shit about being in the cabin, I’ll send the pictures to your wife. She’ll find them most illuminating. You really should use protection, Hank. Who knows what you’ve picked up and brought home to her.”

  Bain groaned softly. “No!” he cried. “Please don’t.”

  “He sounds genuinely distraught,” Rafe murmured, looking impressed. Gideon was, too—unless the guy was acting with them, too.

  God, he hoped not. If so, Rafe and Erin were walking into a trap. And Mercy would be caught in the crossfire. And they expect me to sit here, helpless.

  “I don’t want your mewling pleas,” Carson said with contempt. “I want you to do what I said and get me a damn plane. If you’re fucking with me, you’ll be begging for forgiveness, not mercy.” Then the bastard chuckled. “Mercy. Get it?”

  Gideon bit back another growl but wasn’t entirely successful. Daisy brushed the barest of kisses over his injured shoulder and Rafe squeezed his arm harder.

  “I . . . I got it,” Bain said, his voice shaking. “Wh-where are you?”

  Another long, long pause. Gideon thought his heart would give out from the stress. But no. It kept on beating until Carson blew out a breath. “Placerville. I’ll call you with the exact coordinates once you’re close.”

  “Okay,” Bain whispered. Then asked, “Carson, I’ve got three kids and one on the way. I’m coming home to them, right?”

  “Of course you will,” Carson said smoothly. “You’ve got thirty minutes. And if you’re thinking of involving the police, don’t. My leverage is only useful if I have transportation. The cops won’t give me a plane or even a car. I know that. They’ll pretend to negotiate, but they lie. They only want to buy enough time to take me into custody and that’s not going to happen. If I have to make my own way and go on the run, my leverage becomes a liability. I’ll kill her and dump her in your backyard and I’ll find a way to make it look like you did it. Then the police will question you.”

  Bain made a strangled noise. “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “You have no idea what I’d do,” Carson said ominously.

  “Then it is true. You’ve . . . you’ve killed people?” Bain asked with quiet horror.

  Gideon figured that Erin must have asked him to ask this so that they could record it.

  Carson’s laugh was unpleasant. “Let’s just say that you don’t want anyone to think you’ve been playing with me after hours.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll do it. Just . . . don’t hurt anyone. Please.”

  “Then don’t fuck this up, Hank. You now have twenty-nine minutes. Make them count. See you then.” The call abruptly ended, leaving Gideon more helpless than before. And hopeless.

  His emotion must have been clear on his face because Rafe gave his arm a final squeeze. “We’ve got this, brother,” he whispered.

  Brother. They always had been. “Yeah,” Gideon managed. “Okay.”

  Rafe slid the chair beneath the desk, then held out his hand to pull Gideon up. “Come on. We have a lot to do.”

  The four of them found Erin talking on her phone and Bain staring at his own. “He plans to kill me if I show up,” Bain said dully.

  “Most likely,” Rafe agreed. “But you’re going to be here. Protected.”

  Erin ended her call and stood up, her expression grim. “I just talked to the lieutenant and he’s with Agent Molina. They’re preparing a SWAT team, but ETA to Placerville is an hour.”

  Gideon choked back his fear. “He’ll kill her by then.�
��

  Rafe and Erin exchanged a long, long look while Gideon held his breath because he knew they were mentally discussing whether to go or stay. He shuddered out a breath when Erin nodded reluctantly. “I do believe Carson will kill her,” she said quietly. “He really does have nothing to lose.”

  “I believe him, too,” Rafe agreed, his expression grim. “We can’t wait an hour. And even if they speed, the field office is still forty-five minutes from Placerville. Anyone SacPD sends might make it in thirty.”

  Erin rubbed her forehead wearily. “Let’s start driving to Placerville. We’re thirty minutes out, but we can get there in twenty. We’ll go to the coordinates when Carson gives them to Bain. We won’t act unless it looks like Mercy is in imminent danger.”

  “She’s already in imminent danger,” Gideon ground out.

  Erin gave him a serious, quelling look. “We are going to do this right. We are not going to knee-jerk our way into a clusterfuck. And you will stay here.” She sighed. “You’re going to have to trust us, Gideon.”

  Gideon jerked a nod, knowing she was right. “All right.”

  Rafe gave his arm a final squeeze before turning to his partner. “Rhee, let’s go in your car. If we have to approach, I’ll drive, you stay low. I’ll drop you off first so that you can make your approach.”

  Erin didn’t move. “How will we know where he is?”

  “He said he’d call Mr. Bain when we got close,” Rafe said. “Mr. Bain can call us once he has the location.”

  Bain frowned. “I won’t be in the car, though. He’ll hear the difference.”

  “Good point,” Rafe allowed. “We’ll ask the officer to drive you around the block until you get the call.”

  Bain did not look okay with that. “My neighbors will think I’ve been arrested. It’ll get on the news and my kids will see it.”

  “We’ll ask the officer to ride along with you in your own car,” Rafe said. “Nobody will think you’ve been arrested. When you get the call from Carson, just call me or Detective Rhee with whatever coordinates he gives you.”

  “I can check the property from Google Earth,” Gideon offered. “Just tell me the coordinates when he gives them to you. I’ll describe the lay of the land so you know how to approach.”

  Erin shook her head. “Nice try, Gideon. No cigar.”

  “And if he plans to guide you in step by step?” Gideon asked.

  “Then we do a three-way call again, just like we did here,” Erin said. “Another nice try. Still no cigar. I’m not involving you. You are staying here.”

  Rafe gave him a half hug. “Gid, we’ve got this. Daisy, you wait here for your protection detail. They’re probably already waiting for you at Mom and Dad’s house. I’ll tell them to send your escort here.” Pressing his car key in her hand, he leaned down and hugged her, then whispered something in her ear that Gideon couldn’t hear.

  She nodded up at Rafe, then smiled sweetly. “You too.”

  Erin paused in the kitchen doorway. “Mr. Bain, one of the officers will come in to escort you. You three”—she pointed at Gideon, Daisy, and Frederick—“stay here.”

  Daisy made the Girl Scout sign, like she was vowing on her honor.

  When they were gone, Gideon put his hand out. “The key. You stay here.”

  “Um, no.” Daisy put the key in her father’s hand instead. “How are your driving skills, Dad? Mine are a little rusty.”

  “Mine are good. And yours were awful before they got rusty.”

  Daisy went to the front window and made a frustrated noise. “For God’s sake. Erin’s behind the wheel. She’s not letting Rafe drive.”

  “Because she knew he’d let us tail him,” Frederick said grimly.

  She turned from the window. “Okay, they’re gone. If we’re quick and slick, we can catch up. Let’s go. Dad’s going to drive because you’re tired and terrified and you’ll kill us before we can get to Mercy. I’m going along in case you need a marksman.”

  Gideon wanted to argue, but he knew they were right. He was one step away from falling flat on his face, holding on through sheer fear for Mercy.

  One of the officers who’d been waiting outside knocked, then entered the house. “Detective Rhee asked me to drive Mr. Bain in his car while we wait for his call. Mr. Bain? Are you ready to go?”

  Hank pushed away from the table and handed the officer his keys. “You drive. I don’t want to add a DUI to this night,” he added, his jaw tight.

  “We’ll wait in our car,” Daisy told the officer. “Our escort is expected soon.”

  The officer in the cruiser outside gave them a curious look as he passed them going into the house, but said nothing. Which surprised Gideon, but he didn’t comment until they were buckled into Rafe’s Subaru and driving the direction that Erin’s blue Range Rover had gone.

  “That cop didn’t say a word to us,” he commented.

  “Because he didn’t expect us to stay,” Daisy said. “Rafe probably said something to him.”

  Gideon lifted his brows. “What did Rafe whisper in your ear?”

  “The combo,” she said, “to the gun safe in the cargo hold.”

  PLACERVILLE, CALIFORNIA

  TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 4:15 A.M.

  He leaned against the passenger side of the van he’d stolen, watching for headlights. He’d called Hank with the coordinates twenty minutes ago. He was ten minutes later than the thirty minutes allotted.

  The asshole needed to hurry. It was cold outside for one, but more importantly, the sun would be up in three hours. He’d like to be safely in the cabin before sunrise. There would be less chance of discovery that way.

  Except the road to Lake Tahoe could be treacherous if the weather got bad. If he needed to buy chains for the tires, he’d have to wait until the local Walmart opened at six A.M.

  He’d been sorely vexed to find that it wasn’t an all-night Walmart one of the first times he’d dumped a body in the abandoned mine and wanted a snack on the way home.

  It would depend on what kind of vehicle Hank was bringing him, he decided. Some SUVs could make it through the mountains without chains. Hopefully he was getting one of those.

  He started when the passenger window lowered behind him, his right hand going for the gun in his pocket. He relaxed when he realized Mercy had somehow hit the window switch with her elbow. Her hands were bound and they were a good mile away from the nearest house. Considering that he’d taken her shoes, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Who are you waiting for?” Mercy asked in that quiet way she had.

  He was undecided about Agent Reynolds’s sister. He wasn’t sure if her strange calm was peaceful or just plain creepy. He leaned toward creepy.

  “None of your business,” he snapped.

  “At the risk of sounding trite, you’re not likely to get away with this. My brother is very good at his job and he won’t stop looking for you, no matter where you run.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her. She had wide green eyes and she studied him levelly. “Shut up,” he said, with a look that had silenced many of his victims.

  She, however, didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. “Are you planning to kill me?”

  “No. But I will if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

  She shrugged slightly as if it didn’t make any difference. She was trying to mess with his head. He was sure of it. “What do you do for a living?” he asked, curious now.

  “I’m a forensic investigator.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course you are. Damn forensics. So you’re like CSI?”

  She rolled her eyes this time. “No. That is not a factual show.”

  “So do you go out in the field?” he asked, because forensics had always fascinated him as much as they’d annoyed him.

  “No. I mostly stay in the lab.”

  He t
ilted his head. “Are you trying to make me like you so that I don’t kill you?”

  “No,” she said easily. “I figure you’ll do what you’ll do.”

  “You’re not afraid of me?”

  “No.”

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  Her lips curved ever so slightly. Ever so mockingly. “I survived a monster far more terrifying than you. No offense.”

  Now he was very curious. “Tell me about him.”

  She shook her head. “No. You should have asked Eileen that same question.”

  “Why?”

  She looked out the windshield, no longer meeting his eyes. “She survived the same monster.”

  “She was stubborn,” he said with a fond smile. “She lasted for two days.”

  “Zandra lasted three,” she said mildly. “Until she got away.”

  His jaw tightened. Stay calm, he thought. She’s yanking your chain to threaten your focus. “If you’re so brave, why did you go all zombie robot on me when we left the hospital?”

  “I told you. That’s the way I cope with stress. I shut down.”

  “But you’re not stressed now?”

  “Of course I am. You’re probably going to kill me.”

  He lifted a brow, then touched his face to find that the false eyebrow he’d fixed to it had fallen off at some point. “But you’re not afraid.”

  “Stress is different from fear.”

  “That’s fair,” he allowed. “Or you’re just crazy. I’m not sure which.” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Why aren’t you all zombie robot if you’re still stressed?”

  “The episodes don’t last as long as they used to.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s good for you.” Not that it mattered. Sooner or later he would be killing her. He turned back to the road, watching for Hank. The man was almost out of time. And then what? What will you do?

  I’ll kill Mercy, dump her, then drive to Mexico. He’d just have to figure out where to get a fake passport. Or where he could cross over without one.