The Target
Page 118

 Catherine Coulter

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Molly rolled her eyes. "Cans? All different sizes, I'll bet. You pervert."
"Mama? I can hear you laughing. Did you make a joke?"
"Oh yes," Molly said quietly. "Oh, yes."
AFTER a spicy dinner of Ramsey's favorite Chinese Szechwan Beef, and garlic noodles with eggplant, Molly said, as she watched Emma set down her fork, "It's time the three of us talked about this, Em. We've put it off long enough. You're ready to jump out of your skin." Emma's head came up. "Let me be real up-front with you. Ramsey's worried about you. He's worried because that awful man is still out there. We hoped he would have been caught by now, but he hasn't. This means, Em, that you're going to have to be super-careful. That means whenever we leave the house, you've got to stay really close to either me or Ramsey. If one
of us ever walks ahead of you, you grab Ramsey's hand or mine. Do you understand? Does that make sense to you?"
Ramsey would never have brought it right out in the open like this. He felt as if they were standing over an active volcano. He barely managed to make his throat swallow the strong black coffee he'd just brewed.
Emma said, "Yes, I think it makes sense too, Mama. Dr. Loo told me that this man thought I could save him from going to Hell. She said that wasn't true, but it was stuck in his brain like that, and so it was true to him."
She was talking. He supposed he was astounded that everything out of that small mouth made such sense.
"She's probably right," Molly said.
"If he thought I could save him from going to Hell, then why did he hurt me so much?"
Molly said, "Mr. Savich told Ramsey that the doctors at the FBI think that just maybe he hurt you because he believed you should take his punishment for him, that by hurting you, his savior, he was cleansing himself of his sins, readying to give himself into God's hands."
"I don't understand that, Mama."
"No one does, not really," Ramsey said. "He's very sick and therefore he's very dangerous because he's out of control. That's why we've really got to be careful."
"I know he's still out there," Emma said. "He's just waiting."
"I know," Molly said. "I wish I could get him right this minute, but I can't. Until we do catch him, though, things are going to be tough for us. I'm sorry, but I can't change that. You're going to have to be on the lookout all the time and stick close. Now I want you to go to the front window and look at that light blue car parked across the street. Those are police officers and they're going to keep all their eyes open for that man."
"I see them, Mama."
Ramsey cleared his throat. But the reasonable sorts of words that had just come out of Molly's mouth were stuck in his throat. He tried to say something intelligent, something comforting, but what came out of his mouth was, "Emma, do you think you could come here a minute? I need to have you close to me. I'm not feeling so good."
Emma came running back to the table. Ramsey barely had time to push back his chair and lift her onto his legs. He drew her close. Emma was patting his arms. "It's going to be all right, Ramsey. We'll get through this. I promise."
He buried his face in her French braid. "I love you, Emma Hunt."
"I love you too, Ramsey. A whole lot." She kept stroking his arm and his shoulder, giving him all the comfort she could.
THAT weekend they went to Monterey to be tourists. They went first to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Emma loved the jellyfish. The three of them sat on the bench facing the huge tank and watched the jellyfish for a good thirty minutes.
They walked through Carmel, played on the beautiful beach at the cove at the bottom of Ocean Avenue, drove down to Big Sur and picnicked off the road on the Seventeen Mile Drive.
They kept Sonny Dickerson at bay in their minds for a good three days, at least for most of the time. Ramsey called Virginia Trolley once they'd reached their hotel, gave her their number, and told her that everyone was settled in. Molly called her father. He was improving by the day. Miles missed them, particularly Emma. Her father was sleeping, Eve said, but maybe they could call him next week and he'd want to speak to them.
"Bitch," Molly said quietly as she hung up the phone.
Ramsey looked up from the blackjack game he and Emma were playing. He'd just taught her the game two days before. She was beating him, which both surprised him and made him so proud he couldn't stand it. He said over his shoulder to Molly with a grin, "It's easier for Eve to deal with your father when no one else is around, particularly if it happens to be a stepdaughter who's older than she is and a step-granddaughter who's smarter at gambling than she is, and a guy who's really handsome and witty who isn't at all interested in her. Darn it all, Emma, I can't believe you took a hit on sixteen. You should have held."