Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            “The people who don’t want my friends to talk tried to shoot me a few days ago, so I brought protection. We don’t care if you’re undocumented or not. I swear.”

            Sergio’s jaw tightened. “But I’m not undocumented. I’ve had a green card since I was a boy, just arriving from El Salvador with my parents. But a customer of mine didn’t like the tattoo I gave her, even though she signed off on the design before I started. She threatened to have me deported. I told her I had a green card, but she said that her father was with ICE and that it wouldn’t matter. Men claiming to be ICE agents came to my old studio and threatened me. I don’t know if they were ICE or not, but they scared me. And they scared my wife.”

            Liza ignored the temper that fizzled under her skin on his behalf. “The FBI showing up at your old studio must have been terrifying.”

            “It was. My wife, my child . . . they were very afraid. Not for themselves. My wife is a citizen. She was born in Florida. But she was afraid for me, afraid I’d be deported.”

            “I’m so sorry.” Liza considered hiding Gideon’s profession, but she was asking this man to trust her. She couldn’t lie to him. “Full disclosure: Daisy Dawson came with me. She’s the one who contacted you before. She’s waiting in the truck with her boyfriend, Gideon. He’s the friend who was forced to get the tattoo as a young man. He’s also with the FBI, but he’s here as a civilian,” she rushed to add, because Sergio looked like he’d run again. “He’s not on duty or here in any official capacity. He will not report you, but he wouldn’t let Daisy come without him. You know, because the people who hurt them are dangerous.”

            “Is Daisy FBI?” Sergio asked suspiciously.

            Liza had to chuckle. “No. I don’t think that the FBI would survive Daisy. Can she come in?”

            “What about the FBI agent?” Sergio asked nervously.

            “The off-duty FBI agent is going to stay outside,” Liza replied. “Partly out of respect for you and partly to make sure that the people who want to hurt our family don’t catch us unaware. They didn’t follow us here, so you’re safe. But Gideon is super careful about our safety.”

            Sergio drew a breath. “Yes, Miss Dawson may come in.”

            “I’ll let her know.” Liza sent a text, then withdrew her sketch from her handbag. “So you don’t worry about me blocking out your afternoon, I really do want a tattoo. I wasn’t being deceitful. I loved the detail you achieved on the angel feathers on the tattoo we’re asking about.”

            Sergio studied her sketch. “A memorial tattoo?”

            “Yes,” she murmured. “For people who were my family over there.”

            “I can do this,” he said. “When we are finished talking, I will work up a design. When you are satisfied, we can begin. You will probably need a second session. Maybe a third.”

            “I figured as much. I thought maybe you could just outline it today.”

            His lips curved. “Not your first tattoo, I take it?”

            “No. Not even my first memorial tattoo.”

            He sobered. “Then you have known much loss.”

            She was saved a reply by Daisy’s entrance. Daisy was her typical self, striding forward, hand outstretched. “Sergio. So nice to meet you in person. I’m Daisy.”

            “Please, sit. The studio is empty, so no one will hear us talking here. Shall we begin?”





FOURTEEN



MONTEREY, CALIFORNIA

            THURSDAY, MAY 25, 3:20 P.M.





Sergio Iglesias studied the photo of the Eden tattoo for a long moment. “My wife set up my Instagram account a few years ago. She went through all the photos I’d kept since I started tattooing and picked the ones she liked. This was one she liked.”

            “It’s beautiful work,” Liza murmured.

            He dipped his head once. “Thank you.”

            “Do you remember the subject?” Daisy asked.

            “I didn’t when you first contacted me, Daisy. I had to go back into my files to jog my memory. Once I saw the file, though, I remembered him well.”