Catherine Coulter - FBI 3 The Target

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Catherine Coulter - FBI 3 The Target Page 12

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  "I'll buy her one of those two-octave portable pianos tomorrow. I'd like to hear her play."

  "Thank you, Ramsey."

  "Why haven't you seen your father for three years?"

  He swore he could see her stiffen from across the room. He said, "Was it because he'd hurt your husband?"

  "You're good at your job."

  "Yeah, I am, but this hasn't a thing to do with my job. I'm not being nosy, Molly, just trying to figure out what's going on here. Help me."

  "That was part of it."

  "That's a lie. I can hear it in your voice."

  "All right. Louey said he'd take Emma away from me if I ever saw my father again. He called him a son of a bitch, as I remember."

  "Why?"

  "Louey hated my father because he found out about him."

  "Found out what?"

  She sighed deeply. "Louey beat me."

  He started to jump out of the chair, grabbed his leg, and sank back down. "That scrawny little fucker beat you? As in he hit you?"

  "Yes. Don't think I'm some sort of victim here. I told him if he ever touched me again I'd kill him. To be honest, I don't know if he believed me, but I believed me and I'm sure he must have picked up on that."

  "If he had a brain he picked up on it really fast."

  "This was three years ago. What happened was that one of my friends found out and called my father. Mason came to Denver and personally beat the daylights out of Louey.

  "He told Louey that if he ever touched me again, he'd kill him. So Louey knew that he was in deep trouble, but he hated being helpless, so he told me not to see my father again."

  "Would you have killed him if he'd hit you again?"

  "Probably not, but I would have left in a flash. That first time, he was drunk, he'd gotten a bad review on his newly released CD, Danger Floats Deep, and was really angry. That same day I got a notice from a magazine that they wanted to buy some of my photos. He was jealous, which is ridiculous, if you just think about the relative proportion of things. But it didn't matter. Louey took his anger out on me."

  "I don't remember hearing a thing about Louey Santera being hurt."

  "No, there was no coverage on it. My dad had a doctor come over and check him out. I kicked Louey out the next year."

  "Ah," he said. "What took you so long?"

  She sighed, realizing how easy it was to talk to him. "I wanted to try to make a go of it for Emma's sake. Not a smart idea. Actually, when he did officially leave, it was just a formality since he'd moved out of the house and in with one of his girlfriends." Then she laughed. "My father made sure that Louey gave me more money in the settlement than Louey even had at the time. He was royally pissed, but there was nothing he could do about it. He tried the threat again, about Emma, but I wasn't buying it. I told him I'd kill him if he tried to take Emma, and this time, he believed me."

  "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.

  When Ramsey awoke early in the morning, he thought about Emma's nightmare, her flat dead words. Twine. He'd tied her with twine, as he would a package. He hadn't needed rope. She was just a little girl.

  Not that it mattered. If Ramsey could get his hands on that man, he would probably kill him. Would he send the man through the system, confident that he'd be punished as he should be? He didn't know. He just didn't know. And he should know. He walked to the other bedroom, stood quietly in the open doorway, watching Emma and Molly sleep.

  "Ramsey?" A little whisper of a voice.

  "Good morning, Emma. Did you sleep well?"

  "Oh yes. Mama's all snuggled in behind me. This is nice, but I have to go to the bathroom."

  He heard Molly giggle.

  He saw Molly kissing Emma's neck, telling her they'd both go and then they'd get her a bowl of cereal, with bananas, none of those disgusting peaches.

  He went back to bed and pulled the covers to his chin. Louey Santera had beaten her. He didn't blame Mason Lord one bit for taking the bastard down. He'd have taken him down himself. He wondered, as he got up to go to the bathroom himself, if Molly had loved her husband before that.

  12

  EMMA WAS JUMPING out of her skin she was so excited. She started playing the two-octave piano as soon as she saw it, Ramsey standing just behind her, so surprised he couldn't speak.

  She was playing a Mozart
Sonata that had been the title song to an old film called Elvira Madigan.

  All the salespeople in the toy store were beginning to gather around along with children and their parents. No one was saying anything, just watching Emma play on that little excuse for a piano and listening to the incredible music she was making.

  He looked over at Molly. He could see that she was humming to herself along with Emma's playing. She looked as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

  He bought the piano. The saleswoman said, "It's a pity she can't have a regular piano. She's quite talented. How long has she been playing?"

  Molly answered. "Since she was just three. We're vacationing here and forgot to bring her portable piano. We'll make do nicely with this one."

  "Amazing," the saleswoman said. "Just amazing. You've got a lovely, talented little girl."

  Ramsey nodded. "Yes, she is amazing."

  He felt Emma's hand slip into his. He hugged her against his leg, which was feeling nearly back to normal again. He was down to about four aspirin a day. He wondered if Emma remembered her nightmare. He wanted to ask her about it but thought better of it. No, they needed to talk to a professional. He realized he could call and get a reference.

  He said low to Molly when he opened the car door, "Do you think Emma's doing okay?"

  "I don't know. I haven't asked her. After last night, I'm more afraid than before."

  "I could probably find out the name of a local shrink, one who deals only with children. What do you think?"

  She chewed on that so hard he could practically see her thinking. Finally, she shook her head. "We don't dare take a chance. I think that for the time being we should just keep her close and let her know she's safe."

  But she knew Emma wasn't safe from those terrifying dreams. Molly forced a frown because she wanted to cry.

  He nodded, still uncertain. He looked into the backseat of the Toyota. Emma was holding the big box with her piano inside really close. Her eyes were closed. What was she thinking? Or was she just playing music in her mind? He prayed it was music there and nothing else, at least for the time being.

  He noticed the Honda Civic a half mile from the shopping center. There weren't many cars on 89, the only road to Lake Tahoe from Truckee. It was another seven miles, give or take a mile, to Alpine Meadows Road, their turnoff. He didn't say anything, just kept checking every couple of minutes in the rearview mirror.

  Finally, when he was certain they were being followed, he said quietly, "Molly, look back and see if you can get the license plate number on the Civic two cars behind us. It's fairly new and gray. Be as discreet as you can. We don't want them to notice us looking."

  She didn't even change expression, but he saw the panic in her eyes, followed by a hard coldness, the look she'd given him when she'd burst into the cabin that first morning.

  She looked back at Emma. She was staring out the window, her piano box still hugged to her chest. She didn't appear to have overheard them.

  They were nearly to their turnoff when she could finally make out the license. "It's F A R B three-three-three. That's too easy. Are you sure they're following us? It's a ridiculous plate."

  "No. But I'm not about to take any chances. You got your gun?"

  "Oh yes. What do you want to do?"

  "Let's turn and see what they do. It's two guys, right?"

  "As best I can make out. They're being really careful to hang back. I can't tell yet if it's the same two guys. My cell phone is at home getting recharged."

  "That's all right. We'll call in the number as soon as we get home." If we go home hung silently in the air between them.

  Emma said, "Ramsey, I can make out an A and an R in the license. I remember those letters really well. They're in our names. I need another reading lesson."

  He looked at Molly, who just said, "That's great, Em. I got the A and the R, too. F and B are tougher letters. We'll make up words this evening so you can learn them."

  "We shouldn't have gone out for my piano. That's how they got us. It's all my fault." Her small face was pale.

  Ramsey said clearly, "Nothing is your fault. Don't say that again or I'll have to keep you away from hot dogs for a week. Don't be afraid, Emma. We'll take care of you."

  "Listen to me, Emma," Molly said, turning in the front seat to face her daughter. "If anyone tries to get you again,

  I'll shoot them, even if it's the president. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Mama."

  "Make sure your seat belt's tight."

  "Yes, Ramsey."

  They turned right onto Alpine Meadows Road. The River Ranch Motel was sprawled out on the left-hand corner, a landmark for some time, a ski shop of nearly equal age on the right. It looked closed down. There was still some spring skiing, but not enough to lure more than half a dozen cars into the parking lot of the River Ranch Motel. He prayed the car wouldn't turn right after them.

  The day was bright and would warm to about sixty degrees. Ramsey said, "Hey, Emma, you want to go hiking with me this afternoon? We might get lucky and see some neat wildlife-foxes, deer, lots of birds, rabbits."

  The clothes he'd bought her were perfect. He was trying to distract her, but it wasn't working. "You game, Molly?"

  "Maybe. We'll see. Are you hungry, Emma?"

  "I don't know, Mama. I'm still trying to see the men in that car. Do you think they're the same men who were in Colorado, at that restaurant?"

  "I don't know," Molly said. "They're not close enough to tell yet."

  Ramsey looked behind him. The car had turned, dammit. There wasn't another car between them now. They were hanging back about forty yards. "Okay, they're after us. I'm going all the way down to the ski resort. There's a big turnaround. Then we'll head to Tahoe City. It's only a couple of more miles east. I'm not about to let them get anywhere near our house."

  He saw that Molly had taken her Detonics out and was holding it loosely by her leg. He'd put his Smith & Wesson underneath the front seat, loaded and ready to go. There were only about fifty cars at the ski resort and a couple of dozen four-wheel-drive vehicles parked up close to the ticket windows. The snow already looked slushy. The people who were here were either really serious skiers, or didn't know better. He slowly drove by the front of the resort, making the large lazy circle back onto Alpine Meadows Road, heading back toward the main road again.

  The Honda Civic paused at the row of ticket windows, but didn't stop. He knew they wouldn't stop. He wondered if they knew they'd been spotted.

  He gunned the Toyota as soon as they got back onto the road. When they got to the intersection with Highway 89, he took a right toward Tahoe City. No one had said a word.

  He was thinking about how the hell he could lose the Honda behind them in very small touristy Tahoe City with its endless restaurants, ski rental shops, and souvenir kiosks. There was a shopping center. It was good sized. There were walkways all around the indoor center. He didn't know where most of them led, but he was fairly certain he could get them lost there.

  It was on the right, he remembered, as you drove into town. He'd have to get rid of the Toyota. Pity, but no choice now. He didn't see them behind him for the moment. He turned into the huge parking lot and eased the Toyota right up front.

  "Out. Quickly!"

  He grabbed Emma's piano and they were through the shopping center doors in five seconds. "Go directly out the back, Molly. There's a walkway out there. Take the nearest one to the back door. I'll be with you in just a second."

  There were just a handful of people in the shopping enclosure. He saw Molly weave her way through, Emma pressed against her side, moving as quickly as they could.

  He didn't need to wait long before the Honda pulled around. They saw the Toyota and stopped. It was all he needed to know. He was out the back door in ten seconds, several unhappy people behind him.

  He took the nearest walkway and started running. He caught them behind a small Louisiana-type restaurant.

  "Molly, you and Emma
go into this restaurant and stay in the bathroom. In five minutes, I'll pull up out front. Be there. Five minutes, by your watch."

  He ran back toward the shopping center. He didn't see them. He walked quickly around the north side, into the parking lot. There was the Honda, double-parked right out front. It was empty.

  He smiled.

  Four and a half minutes later, he was in front of the restaurant, and Molly was opening the passenger side.

  "Excellent. Emma, you all set back there?"

 

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