Catherine Coulter - The Target

He saw Ramsey Hunt coming down the wide staircase to his right. He was dressed well in black slacks and a white shirt. No tie, but that was all right. They'd been on the run. He called to him, "Did you deal with Molly?"

"Yes."

"You told her how she was to behave in my house?"

Ramsey wanted to laugh at the heavy-handed tactics. He just smiled. "She knows exactly what to do.

Now, I hear from Miles that you want to speak to me."

"Yes, but just you, not Molly. She doesn't understand either business or strategy."

"Last I knew, Molly was in her bedroom, giving Emma another reading lesson. The kid's really bright."

"I read Moby Dick when I was five years old."

"I understand that Molly was reading very early on as well. That's remarkable."

Mason Lord had forgotten that. He nodded. "Come to my study. It's quiet there." He shut the double oak doors, cutting off the repulsive sound of that game show in the living room and all those shouting low-class slugs.

Ramsey said without preamble, "I understand that when you heard that Louey Santera had beaten Molly you were out there like a flash. That was well done."

Mason Lord stared at the big man standing in front of his desk, at ease, his face open, his expression even admiring.

He wouldn't have even gone to Denver if it hadn't been for what Louey had done. "I wasn't about to let that little creep hurt one of mine."

And that was the bottom line for Mason Lord, Ramsey thought, relieved and pleased. "And naturally you'd feel the same about Emma. She's also one of yours. Who do you think is behind this?"

"It's a kidnapping. Louey is rich-well, not as rich as he was before my daughter divorced him, but he's doing very well. His European tours net him literally millions, the wretched little shit."

"No, it's not just a kidnapping. I told you there were a lot more men after us. How many more people would you need to mount a tracking operation like that? Say at least two more, all of them professionals.

Not a kidnapping, sir. Something else. I'd stake a lot on that." Ramsey paused a moment, then said, "I'm sorry to have to tell you, but you don't know yet that Emma was taken to a cabin in the woods, high in the Rockies, and sexually abused and beaten. It's another thing we have to think about. Emma needs to see a doctor and a child psychiatrist. She has nightmares. Neither Molly nor I have spoken about this because we're afraid of making things worse."

The blood drained from Mason Lord's face. For a moment Ramsey thought he'd be sick-that, or explode. He did neither. Gradually the color returned. His breathing was slow now, calm.

He looked directly at Ramsey. "The bastards have just signed their death warrants."

"I shouldn't, but I feel the same way."

"You're supposed to uphold justice and the precious laws that protect scum like that."

"Yes," Ramsey said. "I'm supposed to uphold the rights of all sorts of scum."

Mason Lord looked at him sharply, but Ramsey's expression didn't change. "As much as I don't want to even consider it, you're probably right that there's got to be either a connection to me or to Louey. I will think about that. Actually, I'd already spoken to Buzz Carmen about my enemies being behind this. We'll see."

"I want to leave Molly and Emma here with you. At least here I know they'll be safe."

"Just what will you do that I can't?"

"Your people didn't do much of anything in Colorado. No, my resources are more far-reaching."

"Just who are your resources other than a whole bunch of cops and lawyers in San Francisco?"

Ramsey shook his head. "You wouldn't approve, so I'll just keep that information under my collar."

Mason Lord felt red creeping up his neck. He rose slowly, his palms flat on the beautiful mahogany desktop, but he didn't have time to say anything. The door opened and his daughter walked in. She was smiling. She said to her father, "Have I missed much? I'm sorry for being late, but Emma wasn't ready to go to sleep. You know, it's true- a mother's work is never done. Now, tell me what you're thinking and I'll tell you what I think."

Ramsey winked at Mason Lord. "Might as well, sir. She's got a really good brain. It'd be stupid not to use it. You should have seen her drive the getaway car."

Mason Lord heard the mindless music from the game show. He shouldn't have, not in his soundproofed study. Had she turned the volume up? He looked at his daughter's face. "Go back to see to your daughter."

"Your granddaughter is peachy. She's with Miles. Let's talk."

"Go watch the game show with Eve."

"I don't know Eve. I don't like game shows. Actually, on my list of priorities at this moment, neither of those is very high."

He wanted to tell her to butt out, that this was his home and he was the boss here. Then he looked at her eyes, filled with pain and defiance and determination.

"Well, hell," he said.

Ramsey Hunt smiled and nodded at him. He still had to tell Molly that he was leaving her and Emma here. He'd been avoiding it. He wondered if she'd take him apart. But he had to do something.

Molly smiled at him, patting his arm. "Don't even think it," she said. "I overheard you speaking to Dad.

No, Ramsey, no way am I letting you go out there on your own."

Ramsey looked at Mason Lord. "Well, hell," he said.

DlLLON Savich said to Agent Sherlock, who happened to be his wife of six months, two weeks, and three days, "This whole thing just doesn't make any sense. I've tried lots of different approaches with MAX but he can't seem to get a reasonable handle on it."

MAX was Dillon's laptop and partner, so he called him. Dillon's reputation in the Bureau was that he could make the laptop dance, and he did, that was true enough. Sherlock patted MAX's case. "You've got lots of supposition, but just a few facts. Unfortunately MAX likes solid facts, not wussy guesses from the ether."

"That true, MAX?" Savich punched a key on his laptop. A deep mellow voice said, "Right, boss."

Sherlock laughed. "I still can't get used to that voice. You're a sicko, Dillon. You're going to have to change the voice when MAX has a sex change again to MAXINE."

"You want to audition?"

"Do I strike you as a Maxine type?"

He stared up at her face and just shook his head. "No, but don't worry, I'll think of something when the inevitable sex change happens. You should see Jimmy Maitland's face when I ask MAX a prearranged question. The first time he nearly fainted. Now he sits forward, just like a kid waiting for a Spiderman cartoon to come on." As a matter of fact, she had seen his boss's face when MAX had come out with "Actually, Savich, I don't think I wish to deal with this confusion anymore." Maitland had run out of his office, shouting for everyone in the vicinity to come in and hear this.

She poked him lightly on the shoulder and said, "We've got to get more information. Ramsey called you this morning from San Francisco to check in. Has he called since then?"

"No. But at least we know where he is."

"Just imagine Ramsey Hunt-a federal judge-at Mason Lord's house in Oak Park. It boggles the mind."

"Just to imagine that Molly's his daughter. Now that's got to be a real shock to Ramsey's system, having to go to Mason Lord. At least the little girl should be safe now. I hear that place is a fortress." He sighed.

"Unfortunately, with Mason Lord's resources, I don't blame Ramsey a bit for not wanting to try his protection. I did try to talk him into calling the FBI, but he refused, said this was the safest way to go for the moment, and he's probably right. He also wants the little girl protected from the cops asking her questions, psychologists all over her. At least until we find out who's behind all this." Savich sighed again.