Luke considered it. “None of the brands faced left.”

“I didn’t think so. The Nazi swastika does point right, however.”

“So this could still be tied to a neo-Nazi group.”

“Possibly, but I don’t think so. The Nazi form is very straight and almost always presented at a forty-five-degree angle. The ends are never bent.”

He glanced at her. “Why did you never get yours removed?”

“Penance, I suppose.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “And nobody was ever going to see it, so it didn’t matter.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t plan to show it to anyone ever again.”

His frown deepened. “At the beach, or in a relationship?”

“Either.”

There was a finality in her tone. “Why not?”

She made an annoyed noise. “You’re a very nosy man, Agent Papadopoulos.”

“Luke,” he said, more sharply than he’d intended, and she shrugged again, making him angry. “Earlier I was kind. Now I’m nosy.” He waited, but she said no more. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Yes. That’s all.”

He was relieved when his cell buzzed in his pocket. He’d been about to lose his temper, and that was the last thing either of them needed right now. “Papadopoulos.”

“Luke, it’s Leigh. I have some phone messages for you. Is this a bad time?”

Yes. “No, it’s a fine time,” he said. “What is it?”

“First is from the Knights. You’re supposed to meet them at two, but they won’t be here until three-thirty. Second, I got a match to your Ashley C-s name. A Jacek Csorka in Panama City, Florida, filed a missing-person report on his daughter. She’s been missing since this past Wednesday. She’s not quite eighteen.”

“Can you give me the number? Actually, give it to Susannah.” He handed the phone across the car. “Can you copy down the phone number she gives you?” Susannah did and Luke took his phone back. “What else?”

“Alex called. Daniel’s awake.”

He took his first easy breath in hours “Excellent. What about Jane Doe?”

“Still asleep.”

“Can’t have everything, I guess. What about tips on the hotline?”

“Hundreds of calls, but nothing credible.”

“Thanks, Leigh. Call me as soon as Jane Doe wakes up. No change on Jane Doe,” he said to Susannah when he’d hung up. Her eyes stayed locked on her computer screen. “Maybe Jane Doe’s not in there, Susannah.”

“No, she asked for her mom yesterday. Her mother must have loved her. I can’t see a mother not doing everything she can to find her daughter.”

There was yearning in her voice he wondered if she heard. It cut at his heart. “I have another nosy question.”

She sighed. “What?”

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

She frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“I didn’t mean it to be. In college, before Darcy, did you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” she said coldly, but he was undeterred.

“In high school, before Simon and Granville, did you?”

“No,” she said, angry now.

“And since Darcy?”

“No,” she thundered. “Will you stop? If this is what I have to listen to so I can stay alive, then just throw me to the evil Rocky and be done with it.”

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, ignoring her tantrum. “After Darcy, why didn’t you?”

“Because,” she snapped, then her shoulders sagged. “You want my soul, Agent Papadopoulos?” she asked wearily, and for once he didn’t correct her. “Fine. God knows I don’t deserve it. More importantly, no decent man deserves it either.”

“Am I decent?” he asked softly.

“I’m afraid so, Luke,” she said, so sadly it broke his heart.

“So you’ll be alone forever? Is that the penance you’ll pay?”

“Yes.”

Luke shook his head, unwilling to accept it. “That’s wrong, Susannah. You’re paying for something that was done to you. You were the victim.”

“You don’t know what I was,” she said bitterly.

“Then tell me. Talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to know. I want to help you.” He sucked in a breath. “I want to know you. Dammit.” His hands clenched the steering wheel, kneading it. “The first time I saw you… I wanted to… know you.” He, normally good with the words women wanted to hear, was stumbling. “I wanted you,” he finished quietly.

She said nothing for a long moment. “You don’t want me, Luke. Trust me.”

“Because you had a one-night stand? So the fuck what?”

“Not one,” she whispered so softly he nearly missed it. Then she swallowed hard. “I really don’t want to talk to you anymore. This is hard enough. Please.”

It was the desperate tremble in her voice that made him stop pushing her. “All right. Will you dial the number Leigh gave you?”

She did, and he talked to Mr. Csorka, who planned to leave right away from Florida, bringing DNA samples from his daughter Ashley. Luke was hoping for his first positive ID on one of the missing girls. Mr. Csorka would arrive sometime after six this evening.

Luke went over every detail of the case in his mind, trying to fill the silence in the car, but every few minutes he’d glance at her, wishing he knew what to say. In the end, he honored her request, and said nothing. When they arrived at the hospital in Atlanta, he hoped she’d say something, but she closed her laptop without a word and walked away.

Feeling very sad and helpless, he let her.

He’d parked so he could go in and visit Daniel, but his cell buzzed again.

“Luke, it’s Nate. I’ve been looking at the pictures on Mansfield’s computer.”

Luke felt a spear of guilt. “I’m so sorry to have left you with this, Nate. I’ve got time before Kasey Knight’s parents arrive. Let me talk to Daniel and then I’ll come help you.”

“Actually, I found something,” Nate said, his voice energized. “Come now.”

Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 1:25 p.m.

Susannah had intended to go straight to Jane Doe, but her feet slowed as she walked past Daniel’s room. He was alone, awake, and propped up on the pillows.

Their eyes locked, his intensely blue. She didn’t know what to say or what he’d do. Then he held out his hand and the dam inside her burst. Stumbling forward she grabbed his hand and he pulled her close. Burying her face against his shoulder, she wept.

Awkwardly he brushed her hair and she realized he was crying, too.

“I’m so sorry, Suze,” he rasped. “I can’t go back. I can’t change what I did.”

“Neither can I.”

“You didn’t do anything,” he said fiercely. “I should have protected you.”

“And I should have told you,” she murmured, and he went still.

“Why didn’t you?” he whispered, his voice anguished. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Simon told me not to. He told me that you were gone and…” She shrugged. “Simon said lots of other things. He liked to play mind games.”

“I know. Just like Dad.” He sighed. “I should have guessed. Both of them were always so much crueler to you. When I took care of you, it seemed to get worse.”

“So you stayed away,” she murmured.

“I shouldn’t have.”

I forgive you. Say it. Say the words. But they stuck in her throat. “It’s done, Daniel,” she said instead. “I understand.” It was the best she could do.

She rose, averting her face as she searched for tissues. She wiped her face, then sat next to his bed. Then she winced. “Yikes. The nurses are going to be mad at me.”

He smiled weakly. Her makeup had stained his hospital gown and the red clay from her dress had streaked the sheets. “You’re dirty, kid.”

“I fell down, kind of. I went to Sheila Cunningham’s funeral.”

He blinked in surprise. “You did?” he asked, and she nodded.

“I met Gretchen French. She sends her regards and her thanks.” She lifted one shoulder. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she stops in after they finish with her in the ER.”