The Target

in black with a bright red blazer. "Call me Molly."

    "All right. Good. Now, the man called at about-" She looked at her watch, did some calculations. "He called about ten after three. He said what exactly?"

    "He said he had Emma. He said that stupid judge had just left her on the beach, didn't care about her at all, that he was flirting with this girl and throwing a Frisbee for her dog. He said it was a piece of cake. He said he'd never let her escape him again. He said I'd never see her again. Then he laughed. He said he was going to drive close to the house so maybe I could see him and Emma. He said he'd let Emma wave good-bye to me. Then he hung up. I was staring at the phone. I couldn't think of anything to say. Then I thought if I went outside maybe I could catch him. I ran outside. I've been running all through Sea Cliff. I'm surprised neighbors haven't called the cops to report a crazy woman."

    "He called her after I got Emma back," Ramsey said slowly. "Just to frighten her?"

    "Like I said," Virginia repeated, "he wanted to terrorize Molly. He wanted to make himself feel powerful. He'd failed to get Emma, but by calling Molly, he could win, at least for a while, until the both of you got back here."

    His brain was beginning to function again, thank God. He could tell that Molly, too, was getting herself back together. As for Emma, he didn't know what they'd be facing with her. "Emma says he hit her on the head."

    Molly patted her daughter's shoulder. "Em, does your head hurt?"

    Emma sat up on Ramsey's lap. Slowly, she lifted her hand to touch above her left ear. "It's just a little lump."

    "I saw you poke your head out of his overcoat."

    Emma nodded. "I bit him through his shirt, too. Real hard. You told me never to give up and I didn't."

    Virginia said, "In his side, Emma?"

    "Yes."

    "Which side?"

    "His right side. I think it hurt him."

    "Good for you." Ramsey cupped her face between his hands and kissed her nose. "Good for you, Em." He looked into that small face that had become so inexpressibly dear to him. It broke him. "Oh, Emma, I'm so sorry." He touched his forehead to hers. He felt the panic well up again, and that awful foreboding of sheer helplessness.

    Slowly, Emma raised her small hand and lightly ran her fingers over his cheek. "I'm okay, Ramsey. You didn't do anything wrong. He was so fast. I was patting down one of my sand castle walls, and then he hit me."

    Virginia Trolley turned away, cleared her throat, and said over her shoulder, "Emma, does your head hurt?"

    "No, ma'am. It's just sore."

    "Perhaps we should call Dr. Haversham again, Ramsey."

    "All right. I'd sure feel better."

    "I'm like my mama. I hate hospitals."

    Ramsey and Molly exchanged glances.

    "He wasn't wearing a mask this time, but he still had bad teeth."

    Her voice sounded almost normal. She was sitting up straight now on Ramsey's legs. She was looking at Virginia.

    "Did you notice anything else about him, Emma?"

    "He smelled funny, just the way he did before."

    "Funny how?" Virginia asked, taking a small pad of paper out of her purse and writing on it.

    Emma shrugged. "Strong. Not nice."

    "Whiskey," Ramsey said. "Was it whiskey?"

    Emma wasn't certain. Ramsey lifted her in his arms and carried her over to the sideboard. He pulled the cork out of a bottle and lifted it to her nose. "Is this the smell?"

    She scrunched up her face and jerked back. "Yes, Ramsey, like that. It's not a nice smell."

    "No, it's not."

    "And he had bad teeth?"

    "Yes, ma'am, all black and yucky. I remember one was missing." She pulled open her lip and pointed to one of the incisors on the left.

    "Good," Virginia said as she wrote. "Did he say anything to you, Emma?"

    She shook her head. Ramsey returned to the sofa with her and sat back down beside Molly. "Think, Em. What were you doing just before he hit you on the head?"

    "I was packing down sand."

    "Then what?"

    "I heard something. I looked up but something hit me and I don't remember."

    "That's fine, Emma," Molly said. "All done in an instant of time." Emma slipped her hand into her mother's.

    Virginia Trolley quietly closed her small notebook. She nodded to Ramsey. "He's made a mistake. He's close. Now maybe we can get this monster. Emma, you're the greatest. Ramsey told me you got away from this jerk before. You did it again. Now, you need to take care of Ramsey and your mom, okay? They aren't doing so well right now."

    "Yes, Officer, I will."

    Ramsey said,