Say You're Sorry (Romantic Suspense, #22; Sacramento, #1)

Sasha’s hand flew to her mouth and both she and Rafe looked uncomfortable. And guilty. “I’m sorry, DD,” Sasha whispered. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Daisy shook her head and forced a smile. “No sorries needed.” She let out a shaky breath. “My family waited for two months for news when my sister Carrie went missing. She’d run away and we didn’t know where.”

“She didn’t come home,” Gideon murmured, remembering her use of the past tense the night before when she’d told them her phone code was her sister’s birthday.

“No,” Daisy said softly. “It ripped our family apart. I miss her so much.”

“I miss her, too,” Sasha said, then chuckled suddenly. “Remember the camping trip when she shone a flashlight on that Captain Hook hand we got at Disneyland?”

Daisy’s eyes lit up, a wicked grin curving her lips. “On the boys’ tent. They thought it was the hook-man from the legend. They ran out screaming, in their underwear.”

Sasha was full-out laughing now. “And Meg . . .”

Daisy joined her and they laughed until they cried. “Meg had the hose ready and sprayed them all as they rushed out of the tent. Your sister corrupted mine, I think. It was Carrie’s hook-hand.”

Rafe was not smiling. “It wasn’t funny. We could have gotten pneumonia.”

“It was August,” Sasha scoffed. “Omigod, Meg got in such trouble from Mom for that.”

“As she should have,” Rafe said, but his lips were twitching now.

“And now Meg’s a cop with three kids of her own.” Daisy wiped at her eyes.

“May her children be as bad as she was,” Rafe said solemnly.

“I think you should be careful that your wishes don’t boomerang back at you,” Gideon said to Rafe, glad Daisy’s eyes were happy again. Or at least not so sad. “If you ever have kids they’ll be ex-cons by kindergarten.”

“I was an angel,” Rafe insisted. “The only one who is actually named after an angel, I’ll have you know.”

Sasha snorted. “You keep on thinking that, but the universe keeps score, Raphael.”

He grinned at his sister. “Then you’re doomed.” His phone buzzed and he checked the screen with a sigh. “Work’s calling. Gotta go.”

Gideon got up so that Rafe could slide out. “Anything on Daisy’s case?” he murmured so that she couldn’t hear.

Rafe shook his head, whispering his reply. “We canvassed the area, but nobody remembers seeing a man matching Daisy’s description. There were no surveillance videos. I don’t know if he knew that in advance or he got lucky. He must have pulled the stocking off as soon as he ran, but we didn’t find it. Lab’s backed up. It’ll be at least a week before we get the skin from under her nails analyzed. Tad got fired from the station for the shit he pulled on this morning’s show, so at least that’s progress.”

“That is good news. The guy’s a dick.” Gideon hesitated. “I sent the photo of Eileen to a friend who’s a police artist.”

“Age progression? Good. I did the same, but I’ve got to wait my turn and it could be days before our artist gets to it. Send me what your guy comes up with.”

“I will. What about the man in the photograph? The one Daisy put back together?”

Rafe’s eyes met his. “Who was he?” he asked under his breath. “And not his name. Daisy sent me that. Who was he to you?”

Gideon glanced around him, but no one was paying them any attention. “Do you remember the scars on my back?” he asked, knowing that Rafe certainly would.

Rafe stiffened. “Got it. I’ll ask the lab to run it through facial recognition in case he’s shown up somewhere else, but again, I have to wait my turn. Cindy says it’ll be a few days until she has the thing put together so that she can try for a fingerprint. She’s doing it before and after her normal work.”

Gideon completely understood. So much of his job was waiting for other people to process information. He hated waiting. He was hating it more than usual because it had quickly become personal. Even if there had been no locket, Gideon felt the overwhelming need to protect Daisy Dawson, this woman who made him smile.

“Tell Cindy I appreciate it,” he said. Rafe waved his good-bye and Gideon slid back on the seat, waving over a server. Once they’d ordered, Sasha laid a few bills on the table.

“This will take care of my and Rafe’s dinners,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me?” She made a shooing motion at Daisy.

Daisy stared at her. “You’re leaving? Why?”

Sasha nodded at Daisy, then winked at Gideon. “I know better than to be a third wheel. Plus, I have a date.”

Daisy let her out. “With whom?” she asked suspiciously as she sat back down.

Sasha waggled her brows. “Sexy school librarian. We’re going rock climbing at the gym.” Sasha dropped a kiss on Daisy’s cheek, then on Gideon’s. “You two kids have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“There’s very little you wouldn’t do,” Gideon said dryly.

Sasha winked again. “I know.”

Daisy exhaled when Sasha was gone. “Well. I feel like I just survived a tornado.”

“Hurricane Sasha,” Gideon said with a small grin. “She’s like lightning in a bottle.”

“She wasn’t before we went away to the ranch.” Daisy looked a little sad. “I missed her emergence.”

An odd word choice, Gideon thought. “What?”

“From her cocoon. She’s like this amazing butterfly now, but then she was quiet and reserved.” Daisy tilted her head. “She told me that the two of you would sit up in her little attic hideout. And that she came out to you first.”

“It was . . .” One of the most special moments of his whole life. He’d felt included. Part of the Sokolov clan. Trusted. “Nice,” he finished. Nice? He rolled his eyes at himself.

She smiled at him, as if hearing the words he couldn’t seem to form out loud. “She kind of idolizes you, you know. She claims it was only when she was a kid, but I’m pretty sure nothing has changed. Just so you know. You were the brother she needed you to be.”

Gideon swallowed hard. “Thank you. That’s . . .”

Her smile widened. “Nice? Yes, it is.” Her smile dimmed as her phone began to light up with texts. “My world has seen the news story. Irina, Karl, my dad, Taylor. Wow. Even my sister Julie.” One side of her mouth lifted. “Her texting skills are really improving.”

“That’s your sister with cerebral palsy?”

“Yes.” Daisy found a photo on her phone. “That’s us this past summer.”

Three women and a little girl smiled for the camera. Daisy had her arm around a tall brunette who cuddled the little girl close. The three of them crowded around the third woman in a wheelchair. “Taylor, Julie, and Cordelia?”

“Yes. Taylor’s fiancé took that picture.” Her phone buzzed some more and she sighed. “Now I’m getting texts from all the people I volunteer with. And my sponsor. They all want to know how I am.” She looked up at him, a bewildered look in her eyes. “But I don’t know what to tell them.”

“Maybe for now just tell them that you’re safe and processing,” Gideon suggested.

“That’s good. Safe and processing.”

He watched her answer the texts, her lower lip pulled between her teeth. She was concentrating, but not the same way she had as she’d put the puzzle together. That expression had been one of joy. This was not.

“I hate that they worry about me,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. “They’re worried I’ll fall off the wagon, but nobody but my sponsor asks me. They just dance around it.”

“They love you,” he said quietly.

“I know. And I know I’m lucky.”

“Or deserving.”

“I hope so. I want to make them proud of me. I want to make me proud of me.”

That was a feeling he completely understood. She returned her attention to her phone, answering the remaining texts, cutting and pasting the same message into each one, then adding “I love you” to her sisters and her father. But she didn’t look up, instead swiping at her phone screen and frowning at what she saw.

“I hope you’re not reading the comments on that article about you,” Gideon said. “That is never healthy.”

She shook her head. “No. I was looking for information on the case Rafe was telling us about. The missing woman with the little girl. But there’s nothing.” She looked up, her eyes filled with devastation once again. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Maybe the parents didn’t want the publicity. Maybe the reporters haven’t heard about it yet.”

“Or maybe because she’s a prostitute,” Daisy said flatly.

He nodded, because that was probably the best explanation. The public didn’t care about missing prostitutes, even ones trying to raise money for their child’s health care.

The server brought their meals and they ate in silence. Not an awkward silence. Just . . . thoughtful. Daisy pushed her plate away when she was finished and folded her arms on the table. “What are we going to do next, Gideon?”

“Go back to your place and watch TV.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean that.”

He hadn’t thought so. “Which thing then, Daisy?”

She looked him directly in the eye. “What are we going to do to find Eileen? And Ephraim Burton?”