“Why didn’t you see your father again? After you and your husband split up?”
“There are two truths. The one I tell people if they ask is that Eve doesn’t want to be seen with a stepdaughter who is older than she is. And a step-granddaughter? Please.”
“And the other truth? The real truth?”
She began rubbing her arms. ‘To most people, if they’ve even heard of my father, they just think he’s a very rich successful businessman. He’s in Silicon Valley, into communications, he owns lumber mills in the Northwest, he has a chain of restaurants in the South, lots of other enterprises. He’s never been convicted of or indicted for anything. His accountants are top-notch, so he’ll never go down on a tax-evasion charge. People like you know that he’s a lot more than that. He’s a kingpin in extortion, gambling, prostitution, just about everything except drugs. He hates drugs.
“My mother was very wise. After the divorce, she took me far away from him, all the way to Italy. I wasn’t raised with his influence. I remember how she’d cry every time she had to put me on an airplane to come to the United States, to him, for those summer months every year. I don’t want Emma near him. My mother kept me away from him and I intend to do the same for Emma.”
“Sanction a kill. That’s what you said.”
“You’re right. It came right out. It’s insidious, that kind of influence. Can you believe I ever want Emma to even know those words go together? A child growing up with a man like my father-I’d fear for that child and I’d be afraid of the adult that child would become. Now, that’s enough. No more for you, Mr. Hunt. I think we should get some sleep. You don’t know Emma. She’ll be awake and raring to go at six o’clock in the morning.”
“I know. She waited until seven after I got shot in the leg. I’d wake up with this soft little hand on my forearm, just lightly stroking up and down.” He was silent a moment. “She’s a great kid, Molly.”
“I know,” she said. “I know.”
“We’ll keep her safe.”
“I know we will,” she said.
It was deep in the middle of the night when a loud piercing scream brought Molly straight up in bed.
She grabbed her daughter and shook her. “Em, wake up, honey. Come on, wake up!”
She shook her again. Ramsey stood in the doorway, his heart pounding, his Smith & Wesson in his hand. He watched Molly sit up and pull Emma onto her lap. “Come on, love, wake up. It’s all right. I’m here with you. Ram-sey’s here too. Wake up, Emma.”
Emma suddenly arched then twisted around, throwing her arms around her mother. She was shuddering and sobbing. Ramsey quickly sat down beside them and held them both tightly. After a few moments, he eased his hold and leaned back. He pushed back Emma’s tangled hair from her ear. “It’s okay, really, Emma, it’s okay. We’re here. No bad guys, just us.”
She slowly stopped sobbing. She hiccuped. He looked at Molly over Emma’s head. Her eyes were shadowed, then he saw her mouth was tight, saw the pain deep within her, visible now to him, and he knew what that pain felt like because he felt it as well. Emma said in a flat singsong voice, “I dreamed about him, Mama. He tied my hands and feet to the bed. He used twine. He said he didn’t need rope because I was just a little girl. He said I was perfect and that he needed me more than God needed him. Only me. He took that twine and he wrapped me like a package.” She fell silent. Ramsey and Molly waited, stiff, enraged, but she said nothing more.
They held Emma between them for a very long time. Finally, Molly said quietly, “She’s asleep. Thank you, Ramsey. I’ll hold her real close the rest of the night.”
It was a very long time before Molly fell asleep again.
When she awoke, she felt Emma’s wet kiss on her cheek. Emma took her arm and pulled it and she naturally turned over to curl around her daughter’s back.