The Target

She gave him a small smile. She turned away from her piano and pressed herself against his chest. "I don't know, Ramsey. Will Mama be happy?"

"I can make her delirious, just ask her."

Emma raised her head and stared at her mother. "Mama, do you think we can keep Ramsey safe?"

This was a wallop in the gut, Molly thought, smiling at her daughter, whose piano was slipping off Ramsey's lap. She nodded. "Yes, I think we can keep him safe. You see, Em, he's right. He's big and strong. We're not as strong as he is, so we'll be thinking more. We'll be the brains of the operation. Yes, we'll keep him safe."

Emma nodded slowly. "Who shot Grandfather?"

"We don't know yet," Molly said. "But he's alive, Em, and they're taking care of him at the hospital."

"Look at the time," Ramsey said. "We've got to get going or we'll miss your appointment with Dr. Loo."

"I hope we can avoid the media," Molly said, worry lacing her voice as she looked down at Emma.

They did manage to lose the press, and in Dr. Eleanor Loo's office thirty minutes later, Emma said, "Dr. Loo, Ramsey and my mom are going to get married. What do you think?"

"I think," Eleanor Loo said, fascinated, "that I need to have my secretary go buy us a bottle of champagne. You, Emma, can have a Sprite, is that all right?"

"I'd rather have a Dr. Pepper, Dr. Loo."

"That's great." Dr. Loo got on her phone for a moment, then turned back. "In half an hour, we'll have a toast. Congratulations to both of you. Now, Emma, tell me why you're worried."

"Because Ramsey could get killed like my daddy."

'That's true," Dr. Loo said slowly. "But you see, Emma, anything can happen to anybody in the world at any time. I'll never forget when Princess Diana died so tragically. I'll never forget the shock of it, the realization that none of us has any guarantees on anything. Life is one day at a time and trying to enjoy each day we're given. You've got to discover the knack for doing that. Do you understand?"

"That was different," Emma said. "Bad people are after us. It isn't just bad luck."

"You understand all too well," Dr. Loo said. "Okay, let's look at it this way. Ramsey and your mom want to give you a home. They want the three of you to be a family. They love you and want you to know that they'll always be there for you."

Emma sighed. She looked for a very long time at Ramsey, saying nothing, just studying him. Then she looked at her mother. Then, she turned back to Dr. Loo, and smiled. "I think Ramsey will make me a good papa. He already loves me bunches."

"He does, does he?"

"Yes. He went crazy in San Francisco when that bad man grabbed me again."

Molly had told Dr. Loo on the phone what had happened on the beach.

"Were you scared?"

"Yes, but it was over so fast. Ramsey said I saved myself again."

"What did you do?"

"The man hit me real hard, but I stayed awake. I bit him through his shirt, in the side. He's kind of fat around his stomach. I bit him real deep. He jerked and I got unburied by his coat. Ramsey saw me and the man had to drop me." She turned to Ramsey. "I wish you could have caught him."

"Me too, kiddo."

Dr. Loo spoke alone to Emma for a while and then they drank champagne, Emma drank her Dr. Pepper, and they all accepted congratulations from the staff there and two waiting patients.

One of the patients, an old man with a severe eye twitch, said, "I saw a blurred photo of you, Judge, in one of the rags. You were hugging a little girl."

"No," Emma said loudly, holding her piano really hard to her chest, "he was hugging me. He was upset."

"No, I didn't see anyone," Mason Lord said to Detective 0'Connor. He paused, sucking in his breath with a sudden twinge of pain. He shot a hit of morphine into his vein by pressing the medication button.

Detective O'Connor waited until he saw the pain clear from Lord's eyes. "No shadows, no warning, nothing?"

"No. Gunther and I were just coming from a friend's office. We'd had a little chat with him. A good fellow, a politician."

"His name, sir?"

"State Senator Quentin Kordie. Don't worry about him, Detective, he wouldn't try to shoot me. We're simply friends, that's all."

"Very well. Now, sir, who knew where you would be?"

It was obvious to Molly that her father had thought about that. She hated the calculation in his eyes, the drawing of pain as he sorted again through the few people he believed had known where he would be at that particular time.