The Target

"Mr. Hunt, just a moment, please."

He turned and smiled. "You did that very well. I was wondering about your approach, but it worked."

"Emma's a smart child. You've always got to take a chance, though, on your initial reading. I don't know your part in all of this, but Emma certainly trusts you. So, whatever you and her mother have done, it's been good. It's up to me to get it all out of her so she can look at it, dismantle it, study it, then come to terms with it. Are the police in any way involved?"

He shook his head. "Not right now. Neither Molly nor I wanted to give her over to strangers. This is just for Emma. She's had some doozy nightmares."

"No wonder. I understand you had her examined?"

"Yes, the pediatrician put her under, at our request, then examined her. She'd been sexually abused, she'd been beaten, as we thought, but she's healed nicely, at least on the outside. Oh, yes, one other thing. A couple of times, coming out of a nightmare, Emma said things about this man. She talked about him tying her up with twine because she was just a little girl. She mentioned that he told her he needed her more than God needed him."

"Now that's a real lead. Give the FBI this information, Mr. Hunt, if you haven't already."

"I will."

Dr. Loo nodded. "Just you and Mrs. Santera keep doing what you're doing. I'll see you on Tuesday?"

"Yes, that's fine." It was only four days away. "There was something else."

She reached out to pick up a scratching stick. He watched her ease it down into the cast. She smiled. "Ah, that feels good. You never realize how important scratching is until it's a pain to be able to do it. Now, your something else-you think I'm going too fast. I am. But you see, you want to get all the poison out of her as quickly as possible before it has a chance to fester. Talking about all the hideousness is like the psychological equivalent of using a stomach pump. Don't worry, I'll pull back if I think it's too much at a time."

She stuck out her hand. "Tell her mother she's doing a great job. Tell her mother, too, that if she continues to blame herself for what happened then she won't be much good to Emma in the long run. All right, Judge Hunt? Don't look so surprised. You're a famous man."

"I'll tell Molly what you said." He turned, then said over his shoulder, "Dr. Loo, what I am really is a very frightened man."

17

MOLLY CAME OUT of the kitchen to see Emma standing beside a hallway table, one of Miles's chocolate-chip cookies in her hand, staring up at her father. Louey looked profoundly discomfited.

"I remember you," Emma said slowly, and took a bite of cookie. "You're my papa. Mama said you were coming to see me."

"Yeah, well, here I am all right. You've really grown, kid."

"You haven't seen me for a long time," Emma said, staring at a man she dimly recognized. He looked tired and nervous. "Mama says I grow taller than a Dr. Pepper can every month. That's my favorite drink."

"You look pretty tall to me. Look, Emma, I've got to go. I've got to see some people, do some things, you know?"

"Yes, Papa," she said slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "I know."

Molly caught up to Louey in the upstairs hallway just after she'd tucked Emma into bed an hour later. He was just coming out of his bedroom. Gunther stood some twenty feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, chewing on a toothpick.

"You saw Emma for all of two minutes, Louey. The first time you've seen her, I might add, in two years. I was thinking that you could have her play her new piano for you. You'll be impressed, I promise."

Louey Santera looked more harassed than scared at the moment, and he knew he had good reason to be scared. "Look, Molly, I saw her. What was I supposed to do, for God's sake? She's just fine. Oh, all right. The next time I see her, I'll ask her to play that ridiculous piano."

"All right, how about this after she's played for you- how about telling her you love her? You are her father, and she needs you, although that's a concept that never really took root in your brain."

"You wanted her, I didn't. You were a lot more fun before you had a kid, Molly. Remember those photos you took of me that Rolling Stone featured? Now those could have made you, but what did you do? You just laughed and said they were okay, not all that great. The editor at Rolling Stone said you were terrific, but you wouldn't hear about doing any more work for them."

"Louey, you're not remembering quite right. I was pregnant with Emma at the time and puking my toenails up on a very regular basis. I've been getting back into it since Emma's older."