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

But . . .

But what? But you didn’t get Daisy Dawson yet? You will. Just be patient. Wait for her to let her guard down. She can’t hide like this forever. You know where she lives.

And they did not know where he lived. He definitely had the upper hand here.

Sitting here in a stolen minivan with GI Joe doing laps around the Sokolovs’ house was a risk he did not need to take. Especially with all the lights in the house going off, one by one. The family was settling down to sleep.

He stripped the glove off his right hand and the mitten off his left, then held one ignition wire between the working fingers of his injured hand. Using his less dexterous right hand, he clumsily touched the two wires together and the van roared to life. He pulled the glove and mitten back on.

He wasn’t going to leave any forensic evidence behind in this vehicle, just as he’d left nothing of his own in the truck or the Chico minivan yesterday. Damn forensics.

He turned the van around and headed back to the city. He’d park it somewhere close to the supermarket from where he’d stolen it and leave a few empty beer bottles on the floor. The cops would assume it had been stolen by teenagers.

He could go home, have a cup of cocoa, and listen to his mother’s record collection. And then he could have another go at Zandra. He was kind of hoping she’d hold out a little longer. She was proving to be a very satisfying guest.


SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 9:55 P.M.

The ringing of a phone woke Daisy from a sound sleep. Blinking, she rolled over to grab it and—

“Shit.” She hit the floor hard. “That hurt.”

“Wha—?” Gideon sat straight up in the bed. The very small bed in Rafe’s old room.

Daisy scrambled to her knees, grabbed the still-ringing cell phone from the nightstand, and handed it to Gideon. “It’s yours.”

“Oh God. What time is it?” He tapped the screen. “Hello?” A second later he was fully awake. “Tino, hey.”

Tino was his friend in Philly. Hopefully this meant age-regressed sketches they could use to search for the two men who’d abused Gideon in the compound.

“No, don’t worry about it. It’s not that late here,” Gideon said. “I had a little altercation with a suspect and I’m still recovering. What do you have?” He listened for a few moments, said, “Hold on,” then opened his e-mail. He stared at his phone for a long moment before putting it back to his ear. “Wow. Thank you, Tino. It’s more than I hoped for. I’ll be sure to let you know what we find. Thanks again.”

He ended the call and handed his phone to her. The photos on the screen had her sucking in a startled breath. Two men, about the age Gideon was now. Both rugged and . . . harsh-looking. There was cruelty in their eyes, an edge that said they’d take what they wanted and damn the consequences. It had been noticeable in the wedding photos if one had known to look for it. Here, though, it was the first thing one saw.

“Wow,” she murmured.

“I know,” Gideon murmured back.

“Did you tell him who they were and what they’d done?”

He shook his head. “No. Tino just seems to know stuff. Eyes are his specialty.”

The light knock on the bedroom door had them both jumping. Gideon grimaced. “We’re busted,” he whispered. “Yes?” he called.

“I heard a thump,” Irina said. “Are you okay, Gideon?”

“I’m fine, Irina,” he said.

“Is Daisy okay then?” she asked, sounding amused.

Daisy rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Irina,” she called.

“That’s good, dear. I figured you were here when you weren’t in your own bed when I went to say good night.”

“Not like we’re adults or anything,” Daisy muttered.

“What was that, dear?” Irina’s question was followed by a laugh, deep and rolling. Male.

“Karl,” she and Gideon said together.

“Good night, Irina,” Daisy said firmly. “Good night, Karl.” She gave them time to leave, then looked up at Gideon. “That was close.”

“Karl and Irina?” He shrugged his good shoulder. “I figured they knew you were here.”

“No.” She reached behind her for Brutus. “I almost squashed her.”

“Poor girl.” He reached down to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

Daisy kissed Brutus on the head. “Tomorrow we take over Sasha’s old room and make her sleep here. She’s got a queen bed.”

“If we’re still here. We don’t have to go back to your place. My house has an excellent security system.”

“I like that idea even better.”

He patted the bed. “Put Brutus on the other bed and come here.” He lifted the blanket for her to crawl under. “I need to forward these photos to Molina.”

“Give me your phone. I’ll type the message and then you can go back to sleep.”

“Maybe,” he said, still frowning at the phone’s screen.

The photos were exceptionally well done. Gideon’s friend had a gift. The photos also represented the worst moments in Gideon’s life, moments he’d been forced to relive at the dinner table tonight.

She slipped the phone from his hands and kissed his jaw. “Let me send the e-mail to Agent Molina and then I’ll see about helping you sleep.”

One dark brow lifted, making him look wicked in the dim light of the moon through the window. “That is an intriguing offer.”

“I thought you’d think so. What do you want this to say?”

He frowned again. “Maybe I’ll call her before I send her the photos. It’ll be easier to explain on the phone. Can you set an alarm for five forty-five? She’s usually in the office by six. If I get to her before anyone else does, she’ll be in a better mood.”

“Considering she told you not to be working, that’s not a bad plan.” Daisy set the alarm, then put the phone on the nightstand and cuddled up to his side so that their lips were only millimeters apart. “Now. Let’s discuss sleeping aids.”

His lips curved. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“A Daisy by any other name?”

He laughed. “I’m still shaking my head over the story your father told at dinner, about why you’re called Daisy. How you made daisychain princess crowns out of the arboretum’s prized orchids.”

She rolled her eyes. “They were flowers, for God’s sake. Mom would take us to the park and we’d make daisy chain crowns and pretend we were princesses. Who knew orchids were worth a few hundred bucks? No flower should be worth a few hundred bucks.” Then she kissed him softly. “My dad likes telling that story a little too much. But it made him smile, so thank you.”

“He sent me a photo of you and your sister, wearing the orchid crowns. I’m going to make it the wallpaper on my phone.”

“We were pretty cute,” Daisy admitted.

“So now I know why you’re called Daisy, but why do you hate ‘Eleanor’ so much? It’s a pretty name.”

“I was named for my great-grandmother and there’s a photo of her in my grandmother’s house that used to terrify me when I was really little, before my mom died. The old Eleanor was sitting in a rocking chair, clutching the arms, you know? And her fingers were like witch’s claws. She scared me so much.” She shuddered and he chuckled.

“What?” Gideon asked. “It’s cute.”

“Yeah, yeah, cute me,” she grumbled.

“You don’t want to be cute?”

“No. I want to be badass.”

She watched as his eyes grew dark. Intense. “I’d say there’s a wanted killer out there who thinks you are. And I’d have to agree. I hate that you have to protect yourself, but I’m so damn glad that you can. You are very badass, Miss Dawson.”

She didn’t want to think about the man who’d attacked her twice, who’d sat inches away talking about jobs in radio and his dog. Who’d killed Trish. And others. She swallowed hard, not caring that she was blatantly changing the subject. “And sexy. I want to be sexy. To you.”

One side of his mouth curled up, his tone growing much lighter. “Oh, you definitely are that.” He slid his hand under the hem of her sweater, toying with her skin. “Isn’t this sweater uncomfortable?”

“Oh, very,” she said with mock seriousness.

His finger traced lazy circles on her back, making her shiver. “I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.”

“You are such a gentleman.”

He laughed quietly. “I can’t do this with a straight face. Just take it off, Daisy.” Sobering, he stared up at her for so long she actually did feel uncomfortable. “Please,” he whispered. “I want to feel your skin.”

She pushed to her knees, grabbing the hem of the sweater to pull it off . . . when his cell phone rang again.

He let his head fall back against the pillow. “Fuck.”

“Or not,” she said unhappily. She reached for his phone and frowned. “It’s Rafe. Maybe he found something on Eileen?”

“Put it on speaker?” He waited until she did. “Hey. I’ve got Daisy here. What did you find today?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Rafe said, his voice tense. “Where are you?”

“Your parents’ house.”

“Sasha?” Rafe asked.

“Also here,” Gideon told him. “Should we get her?”