Mrs. Martell’s expression grew softer and more pained. “You know my Kaley?”
“Yes, ma’am. We talk. Every day. I . . . wanted to do something to help. She loves Amelia so much.” Amelia had been mentioned not in the article, but in the comments on the Martells’ Facebook page. People really needed to be more mindful of the information they simply gave away.
He swallowed hard, laying it on thick. “I hate that her little girl might never know her.” He held out the shopping bag he’d stuffed full. “I got some things. For Amelia. Some toys. Stuffed animals and crayons, that kind of thing.”
Tears filled Mrs. Martell’s eyes, and her grip on the front door loosened. “That is so nice of you. Thank you. Would . . .” She held the door open wider. “Would you like to come in and give Amelia the toys yourself?”
He smiled. “That would be nice.”
GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 5:45 P.M.
“Here, honey.” Sasha set a cup of tea on the Sokolovs’ kitchen table next to Daisy’s laptop and sat next to her, expression anxious. Shocked and grieving.
Irina was baking. Tea cookies. Trish’s favorite.
The atmosphere in the kitchen was oppressive as each of them processed what had happened.
Trish was dead. Dead.
Sasha had brought her to the only place it made sense to be. Irina’s kitchen. There was love here. And safety. And, at the moment, great sorrow.
Daisy still couldn’t believe her friend was gone. “I know this isn’t my fault,” she murmured, staring at the images on her screen without really seeing them. She’d opened her laptop because she’d needed to do something. But when she’d found herself staring at the tattoos from her Eden search, she’d just sat.
Because all she could see was Trish’s body. Bloody and broken.
“Of course it’s not your fault,” Sasha said, making Daisy blink up at her friend’s tear-streaked face. The Sokolovs had embraced Trish as one of their own. It had been the first time Trish had had a family since her mother had died when Trish was seventeen. They’d loved her, too. “But?” Sasha added softly, knowing Daisy well.
“But if she’d had the guard instead of me, she’d be alive right now.” Not dead. Not bloody and mutilated and . . . dead.
“Maybe,” Irina said, sliding a plate of cookies onto the table and sitting on Daisy’s other side. “But you cannot know that. Maybe he went after her because you were guarded. Maybe had Gideon not been with you, this man might have . . .” She swallowed hard. “He might have hurt you as well.”
Daisy sighed. Her head ached and her eyes were sore. “Maybe.”
Irina patted her hand. “Drink your tea, Daisy. It’s getting cold.” She looked over Daisy’s shoulder at her laptop and frowned. “Why are you looking at tattoos?” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not thinking of getting one?”
Daisy realized that the images on her screen would raise more questions than she could answer. She’d promised Gideon her silence. “I already have one,” she said, casually closing the browser window. “I have to get it finished. After that, maybe.”
“When did you get a tattoo?” Sasha asked.
“In Paris. I came home before it was finished.” Because her father had hired their old ranch hand to follow her.
Sasha grinned at her. It was kind of a fake grin, because she wasn’t happy by any stretch, but she was sincerely trying to be. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Irina tsked. “I already know about yours.”
Sasha’s mouth fell open. “But . . .”
“But it’s on your butt cheek? Psht.” Irina flipped a hand, scoffing. “I see and know all, child. Don’t forget it just because you think you are grown.”
Daisy snickered, happy for the distraction. “Who blabbed?”
Irina smiled sadly at that. “Trish. How do you think she bribed me for my birds’ milk cake recipe?”
Her own smile faltering, Daisy glanced at Sasha, who’d closed her eyes. New tears seeped from her eyes. “Oh, baby,” Daisy murmured, wrapping her arms around her friend. “I didn’t know.” She’d known Trish was bi. She’d never known Trish and Sasha . . . “I’m so sorry. Here I am, crying like I’m the only one hurting.”
“It was just a few dates,” Sasha whispered. “It was never going to be permanent. We broke up before Christmas. But . . . dammit, DD. I liked her. We were still friends.”
“I know, honey.” Daisy’s throat closed as new tears clawed their way out. “I just can’t believe this. I saw her with my own eyes and I can’t believe it.”
“Have a cookie,” Irina commanded, shoving the plate into Daisy’s hands.
“Okay,” Daisy mumbled, grateful for the distraction that kept her from going off on another crying jag. But her gratitude was short-lived when Irina took advantage of her full hands, leaning over her to commandeer her laptop’s track pad. With a swipe and a click, she’d restored the tab Daisy had deleted and tattoos filled the screen once again. “Irina! What the fuck!”
“Mom!” Sasha seconded, agape. “You just don’t go around—”
“Hush,” Irina snapped. “I’ll apologize later. Maybe. First Daisy tells me why she’s searching tattoos like the one my Gideon had years ago. That tattoo was . . . wrong. I was glad when he got it covered up. It made him sad.”
Daisy sighed and gently closed the tab again. “Irina.”
Irina’s brows lifted into her hairline. “Eleanor.”
“I can’t tell you,” Daisy told her earnestly. “It’s not my story to tell. I . . . promised, Irina. I can’t break that promise.”
“To Gideon,” Irina said quietly.
Daisy held her gaze, neither confirming nor denying. But her non-answer was enough for Irina, who nodded. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I shouldn’t have pried into your computer.”
“It’s all right,” Daisy said softly. “You love him.”
“I do. That boy’s like one of my own.” Irina’s head tilted. “He trusted you with information that he’s never told me?”
“Mom,” Sasha warned.
Irina ignored her. “It’s true. He did. That’s good.” Her eyes became sly. “I was right, wasn’t I? He is perfect for you.”
Daisy felt her cheeks heat but tried for an eye roll. “Irina, just stop.”
Irina winked at Sasha. “She didn’t say no.”
Sasha’s laugh was teary. “No, she didn’t. Plus they had a date last night.”
“Sasha.” Daisy frowned at her. “Really?”
Irina popped a tea cookie into her mouth, not bothering to hide her delight. “Tell me all.”
“Well, Rafe and I were having dinner and I saw them coming up the street before they got to the restaurant. At first, I didn’t know it was them. They were under an umbrella and I thought, ‘Wow, that’s so sweet how he’s holding on to her,’ and then when he put the umbrella down, I realized it was them.” She fluttered her lashes and sighed.
“Sasha had a date with a librarian,” Daisy blurted before Sasha could say more.
Irina turned her inquisition on her daughter, who gave Daisy a dirty look. “A librarian?” Irina said. “This is good. She is smart then?”
Sasha’s glare softened minimally. “Very smart, Mom. Now back to Daisy and Gideon—”
“Or not,” Daisy interrupted, relieved when her cell phone chimed. Until she saw the caller ID. Both Sokolovs ceased their chatter.
“Take it, honey,” Irina said, the momentary respite from their grief over.
Daisy answered, her hand suddenly trembling. “Dad?”
“Daisy.” Her father sounded . . . terrified. “I . . .” He shuddered out a breath. “There was a body found in Sacramento. A young woman. I . . .” Another shuddered breath. “I thought it was you.”
“Oh, Dad, I’m sorry.” Daisy’s eyes stung. “I didn’t know it would get out so quickly. I was going to call you. I’ve just been in shock.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You knew her, then?”
“Yes. She was my friend. Trish.”
“Oh no. Your friend from AA?”
Daisy nodded, then remembered she had to speak. “Yes,” she whispered hoarsely.
“I’m so sorry, honey. The news said . . . they said there’d been a murder and they speculated that it was connected to the attack against you on Thursday night.”
“I should have expected they’d make the connection,” Daisy muttered. “Enough of the people in Trish’s building saw me there tonight and they knew Trish was with me Thursday. I should have called you right away. I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Stop apologizing,” he said gruffly. “You were there?”
Daisy drew in a breath, then let it out when Irina’s arm slid around her shoulder and tugged her close. “I found her. Gideon and I.”
“Gideon? The FBI agent I talked to?”
“Yes. He hasn’t left my side until now. He’s with Rafe now. I’m with Irina and Sasha. Karl’s here, too, somewhere.”
“And my Damien, too, Frederick,” Irina said loudly. “Your Daisy is protected.”
Her father chuckled. “I heard her. Tell her thank you.”
“I will. I just wish we’d protected Trish, too. She wouldn’t have been in her apartment all alone.”