Cooked Goose

glass as well, looking like a cover model for GQ. “Hear, hear. To the most beautiful women in the room tonight and the men fortunate enough to be their escorts.” Margie blushed sweetly. She actually looked pretty and feminine tonight, having taken Savannah’s advice and “spiffied up” for the occasion. Her cobalt blue shift was simple but elegant, and she wore an antique, marcasite choker and matching bracelet.
    Savannah thought that, for once, the teenager seemed to be enjoying her own femininity. Ryan and Gibson seemed to have that effect on females.
    “Thanks,” Margie told Ryan, not quite meeting his eyes. “This is a nice place.” She sighed and looked a bit sad. “We used to go to restaurants like this when I was a kid,” she added, “before my dad... well... before my mom kicked him out. Now, he doesn’t sit down and eat at a table. He just grabs something and eats it at his desk or in his car.”
    Savannah , Ryan and Gibson sat silently for a long moment, digesting this information and what it revealed about Captain Bloss’s grownup little girl.
    Finally, Ryan said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Margie. We all get busy sometimes.”
    “But I haven’t sat at a table and ate with him even once since then.”
    “Have you told him that you’d enjoy sharing a nice dinner with him sometime?” Savannah asked, unable to believe it… until she reminded herself this was Old Man Bloss they were talking about. Not so tough a stretch for the imagination after all.
    “No, I don’t tell him I want to eat with him,” Margie replied, petulance covering her hurt. “He’s a dad. He’s supposed to just know stuff like that.”
    “He’s a man, Margie,” Ryan said softly. “And I’m ashamed to admit that we men don’t know a lot of things we should. The ones we love have to teach us. Tell your father what you need and—”
    “Oh, I do. I nag him for stuff all the time.”
    “I’m not talking about a new outfit at the mall or the latest CD,” Ryan told her. “I mean truly important things— things you really need, not just material things you want — like sitting down to a table, eating a nice meal and spending some time with him.”
    “Ryan is absolutely right,” Gibson added. “We chaps are a bit thick-skulled at times. You must be frightfully blunt with us. Don’t expect your father to know how much that would mean to you; tell him. Give him the opportunity to do the right thing.”
    Margie thought it over for a long time, staring down at her plate. “And if he doesn’t?” she asked, tears puddling in her eyes.
    “Then he really is a miserable asshole,” Savannah mumbled under her breath. She looked around the table to see the three of them staring at her and realized they had heard. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean that. It just sorta slipped out.“
    “You meant it,” Margie said, but she was grinning.
    “All right, I did, but I shouldn’t have said it. He’s your dad and Ryan and Gibson are right. You need to give your relationship with him all you’ve got. He might surprise you and come through for you. It’s possible; it’s worth a try.“
    “Excuse me for changing the subject,” Ryan said, turning to Savannah , “but speaking of giving something your best effort, I understand your partner is working night and day on this case of the missing officer. Has he come up with anything?”
    “I talked to him on the phone right after the defense class, and he said there’s nothing new. Titus’s girlfriend, Christy, is coming back for a few days to see if she can help with the search for him. I don’t know what she thinks she can do.”
    “She probably needs the comfort of being with those who love him, who are worried about him,” Gibson said.
    “You never know; she might come up with something.” Savannah’s enthusiasm was subdued at best. “Dirk’s over at Titus’s house right now, going through his papers and personal stuff, trying to find anything that might point to a motive for the attack.”
    “Does Detective Coulter believe the officer’s disappearance is connected to this unfortunate rapist affair?” Gibson asked as he motioned for the waiter to bring the dessert tray.
    “It may be related,” Savannah said, perking up at the sight of chocolate cakes, berry tarts, Napoleons and eclairs, rolling toward her on a dainty, deliciously overburdened cart. “But Dirk doesn’t know how. Titus answered the call when Charlene Yardley was