“They’re supposed to discharge him this afternoon. He fell asleep, so I came into the waiting room to call you. I want to get a location for Trish’s service before something else horrible happens.”
“Normally I’d say not to expect the other shoe to drop, but you have a pretty good excuse. Now . . . let’s return to the topic of Agent Reynolds. Don’t think I missed that very skillful attempt to change the subject.”
Daisy laughed, a real laugh this time. “You’re too smart for me, Rosemary.”
“Tell me about him,” Rosemary said, a smile in her voice.
So Daisy did—excluding any of Gideon’s secrets, of course. And she remembered once again why she’d known Rosemary was the right sponsor for her as soon as they’d been introduced. Rosemary had the ability to instantly connect with people, to ask the right questions.
“He knows about your sobriety?”
“Yes. He knew the first night we met.”
“Which was what? Three days ago?”
Daisy frowned. “Three and a half,” she said defensively.
Rosemary chuckled. “Okay. And those three and a half days have been highly chaotic. I’m not saying he’s wrong or bad for you. He sounds pretty wonderful. Just be careful, honey. I’ve seen this too many times, two people falling in with each other too quickly.”
Daisy heard the love in the woman’s voice. “I’ll be careful. And I’ll introduce you to him as soon as I can. How’s that?”
“A good start. How are you feeling now?”
“Better.” And it was true. The door to the waiting room opened and a smiling nurse entered, nuzzling Brutus, grinning when the dog licked her cheek.
“She’s walked,” the nurse said with a final nuzzle. “But she’s missing her mom.”
“Thank you,” Daisy said fervently, reaching for her lifeline. Brutus immediately snuggled up under her chin, as she did when she sensed Daisy’s distress. “Thank you so much.”
“Anytime. I had to fight the others for walking rights.” Giving Daisy a wave, she left her alone.
“I’ve got Brutus back,” Daisy told Rosemary. “I’m better now.”
“Good. Now you know what I’m going to say next, right?”
“To take in a meeting and see a counselor.”
“Exactly. You could be a sponsor, Daisy.”
“Not me. Not yet.” She shuddered at the thought of taking on that kind of responsibility. “I can’t come to a meeting until this dies down. I’ll put everyone in danger. Which brings me full circle back to Trish’s memorial service. There will be security. And cameras.”
“Why?” Rosemary demanded, clearly peeved.
“Because I’ll be there. And Gideon. And because the man that killed her might show up.”
Rosemary sighed. “That’s going to keep some of the folks from coming out. Especially our AA group. They won’t want the association, in case someone asks how they knew her.”
“I know. If they catch him before the service, then we won’t need it. If not, then maybe you can have a separate service, just for the AA group.”
“Okay. I don’t like it, but I understand it. Once you know when we can hold it, tell the police or FBI or whoever to contact me. I’ll make sure it happens.”
“Thank you,” Daisy said again. “Thank you so much.”
She ended the call and headed back to Gideon’s room, unsurprised to find him on his laptop again. “You’re gonna get in trouble.”
He looked up and smiled. His hair was a mess and he needed to shave and trim his goatee, but he still looked like a movie star. “I thought you’d gone home.”
“Nope. Just making some calls.” She sat next to his bed, Brutus remaining in place under her chin. She could feel her little chest expand and fall with every breath she took, and the steady cadence calmed her. “What are you doing?”
“Did you eat?”
“Yes, the nurse gave me your breakfast when you were too asleep to eat it. She’ll bring you another. I wouldn’t eat the eggs. The sausage wasn’t bad. What. Are. You. Doing?”
He tilted his head, staring at his laptop screen. “I had a quasi-dream.”
“A quasi-dream? What exactly is that?”
“I think it really happened, but it’s in that twilight area of my brain right now. Stuff’s fuzzy.”
“The anesthesia does that. What did you remember?”
He met her concerned gaze. “Did you suggest that the men of Eden were there because they had something to hide?”
She blinked at him. “I truly don’t know. When would I have said this?”
“Right before the car locked up and died yesterday.”
She frowned, rubbing her cheek over Brutus’s fuzzy bat ears as she searched her memory, nodding when she found it. “Yes. I was saying that my family had moved to our ranch to hide. I wondered why the adults in Eden chose to live in such a primitive environment when they didn’t have to. Your mother’s reasons I understood. I think I was questioning the men in charge. You said you’d given it some thought. And that’s when the engine started to lock up.” She paused, studying him. “Why?”
“I woke up thinking about that. Maybe because it was the last thought I had before going into survival mode.”
“And?”
“I’d wondered if they were hiding. The men like Edward McPhearson and Ephraim Burton.”
The man who’d tried to molest him, who’d died as they’d fought. And the man who’d tried to kill him afterward. Who now was missing an eye thanks to thirteen-year-old Gideon’s knife skills.
“What would they have been hiding from?”
“That’s a very good question. I’ve run their names through the database, but nothing popped up, which didn’t surprise me. That they changed their names when they reached the community makes sense.”
“And then?” she prompted.
“Well, now we have photos. I didn’t have those before. I sent their photos—the two wedding photos from Eileen’s locket—to my friend in Philly.”
“The one who age-progressed Eileen. You want him to age-regress the two men.”
He nodded. “I figured you’d understand.”
She smiled at him, pleased with the compliment. “And?”
“Well, he has to Photoshop Ephraim Burton’s photo to give him back an eye. He said he’d have them back to me ASAP,” he added, clarifying. “He knows this is a Bureau case now, so he can rush it.”
“How far will you regress them?”
“At least ten years. I was in the community for eight years and they were there when I got there. They’d been there awhile. And then I’ll ask that their photos be checked against the database with facial recognition software and see what pops up.”
“Good job, Gideon,” she said with a nod.
He grinned at her. “Thank you. What calls were you making?”
Her smile slipped. “I was trying to find a location for Trish’s memorial service. The Sokolovs and my father are going to do the rest.”
He instantly sobered. “I’m sorry, honey.”
The endearment soothed her heart, just enough. “Thanks. Rosemary’s going to plan most of it at the community center because I can’t get out and do anything right now.”
“Who’s Rosemary?”
“My sponsor. She was Trish’s sponsor, too.”
He nodded slowly. “Are you having cravings, Daisy?”
She closed her eyes. “Yeah. And it’s bad. Rosemary helped a lot, but . . . God.” She swallowed. “I need to do something else. Something to take my mind off . . . it. And don’t tell me to leave. I don’t want to leave. I need to be here. With you. But . . . God, Gideon. I just . . . I need a distraction. I don’t want to call Karl and Irina to come get me. One, I don’t want them in danger. But mostly, my dad will see me like this and think I’ve fallen off the wagon. I haven’t. I’m not even close, but . . .” She trailed off, having run out of words.
He patted the bed at his side. “Come on up. Bring Brutus. She likes me now.”
“She liked you before,” Daisy said. Carefully she climbed up, snuggling into his side, laying her head on his shoulder, gripping his laptop when it threatened to slide off his lap. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Not at all. Close that e-mail window,” he directed, nodding at the screen. “My arms are occupied.”
One was in a sling and one was lightly resting along her back. She did as he requested. And grinned when the screen filled with the opening credits of a TV show. “You were watching Buffy?”
“I cued it up, just in case I got bored. Or caught working again. Hit PLAY and we’ll be distracted together until they spring me from this joint.”
She laughed softly. “Thank you.” Leaning back a little, she kissed his jaw. “Really.”
“Anytime. Start it up and we can see the first episode of season one. It’s best to begin a binge at the beginning.”
“We could fast-forward to the part where she meets Angel.”
“Nope. And please don’t tell me that you’re Team Angel.”
“Don’t tell me you’re Team Spike,” she replied dramatically.
“Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies,” he said lightly.
She hit PLAY. “Deal.”
SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 10:15 A.M.
He’d struggled to get the surgical glove over his bandaged hand, but there was no need to get the dressing bloody if he didn’t have to. “Ah.” It was finally in place. “Here we go.”