"I counted four empty bottles. I didn't have anything to do, so I counted them. They were really big."
"How long did it take him to drink those four bottles?"
"Five days."
"That's how many days it was until you escaped?"
"Yes," Emma said, her voice not quite so choked now.
"Were there certain times of the day or night that he drank out of those bottles?"
It was loud, that mewling sound that ripped Ramsey's guts. She was trembling, wheezing for breath, making those awful sounds. "No, no, sweetheart," Ramsey said, pressing his cheek to hers, holding her tightly, rocking her, keeping her close and closer still. "It's all right. You're safe now, with me and your mama. If Dr. Loo had been there I bet she would have kicked that miserable man in his butt."
"That's right, Em. She would have kicked him with her cast. That would really hurt."
The mewling sounds stopped.
"Emma?" It was Dr. Loo. Emma didn't say anything, just pressed closer to Ramsey's chest. "I would have kicked him really hard. Count on it."
Emma jerked. Then, slowly, she raised her head. She looked at her mother, at Ramsey, then at Dr. Loo.
"Mama wanted to shoot him," she said at last. "She might have shot Ramsey if I hadn't said something."
"You did well, kiddo," Molly said. "You did really well."
"Can you answer another question for me, Emma?"
The little girl looked at her clearly now. "I don't want to but I know that my mama wants me to, and Ramsey."
"Yes, but only if it doesn't make you sick afraid. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Was this man who kept you at the cabin for five days the same man who took you?"
"Yes."
"How did he get you?"
"Mama was taking pictures in the park in front of our house. I was with Scooter-he's the neighbor's dog.
Mama said I could get one just like him. I was throwing his stick. It took me a long time to teach him to bring me back the stick because Mama said that Dalmatians weren't genius dogs, just dumb dogs and really cute. I threw the stick and when Scooter didn't come back I went to him. There was a man petting him. I heard Mama call my name and I called back and said I was getting Scooter. Then the man smiled at me and he hit me on the head. I tried to call my mama but I couldn't."
Ramsey thought: It was that easy. It took just an instant, just that one instant when the adult believed everything was all right. And then it was too late.
He glanced over at Molly. She looked stricken, guilt ridden. He'd have to shake her out of it. It hadn't been her fault, but he knew just how deeply self-blame could burrow in and corrode.
Then Emma just turned her face in against Ramsey's chest. It was as if she'd frozen, stiff and cold. He held her, kissing her hair.
Molly rose slowly at a nod from Dr. Loo. "Thank you, Dr. Loo."
"It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Santera, Mr. Hunt. I like you, Emma. You've got guts. You've got a good mind. You're going to do just fine. Now, I want us to talk some more when you're feeling less overwhelmed with bad memories. All right?"
Emma slowly turned to face the doctor. She said finally, "I don't know, Dr. Loo. Maybe we can talk next week?"
Ramsey noticed that Molly was flushed with relief.
Emma slipped off his lap and went to her mother. She took her hand and held it hard. She dragged Molly out of the office.
"Mr. Hunt, just a moment, please."
He turned and smiled. "You did that very well. I was wondering about your approach, but it worked."
"Emma's a smart child. You've always got to take a chance, though, on your initial reading. I don't know your part in all of this, but Emma certainly trusts you. So, whatever you and her mother have done, it's been good. It's up to me to get it all out of her so she can look at it, dismantle it, study it, then come to terms with it. Are the police in any way involved?"
He shook his head. "Not right now. Neither Molly nor I wanted to give her over to strangers. This is just for Emma. She's had some doozy nightmares."
"No wonder. I understand you had her examined?"
"Yes, the pediatrician put her under, at our request, then examined her. She'd been sexually abused, she'd been beaten, as we thought, but she's healed nicely, at least on the outside. Oh, yes, one other thing. A couple of times, coming out of a nightmare, Emma said things about this man. She talked about him tying her up with twine because she was just a little girl. She mentioned that he told her he needed her more than God needed him."
"Now that's a real lead. Give the FBI this information, Mr. Hunt, if you haven't already."
"I will."
Dr. Loo nodded. "Just you and Mrs. Santera keep doing what you're doing. I'll see you on Tuesday?"
"Yes, that's fine." It was only four days away. "There was something else."
She reached out to pick up a scratching stick. He watched her ease it down into the cast. She smiled.
"Ah, that feels good. You never realize how important scratching is until it's a pain to be able to do it.
Now, your something else-you think I'm going too fast. I am. But you see, you want to get all the poison out of her as quickly as possible before it has a chance to fester. Talking about all the hideousness is like the psychological equivalent of using a stomach pump. Don't worry, I'll pull back if I think it's too much at a time."
She stuck out her hand. "Tell her mother she's doing a great job. Tell her mother, too, that if she continues to blame herself for what happened then she won't be much good to Emma in the long run. All right, Judge Hunt? Don't look so surprised. You're a famous man."
"I'll tell Molly what you said." He turned, then said over his shoulder, "Dr. Loo, what I am really is a very frightened man."
17
MOLLY CAME OUT of the kitchen to see Emma standing beside a hallway table, one of Miles's chocolate-chip cookies in her hand, staring up at her father. Louey looked profoundly discomfited.
"I remember you," Emma said slowly, and took a bite of cookie. "You're my papa. Mama said you were coming to see me."
"Yeah, well, here I am all right. You've really grown, kid."
"You haven't seen me for a long time," Emma said, staring at a man she dimly recognized. He looked tired and nervous. "Mama says I grow taller than a Dr. Pepper can every month. That's my favorite drink."
"You look pretty tall to me. Look, Emma, I've got to go. I've got to see some people, do some things, you know?"
"Yes, Papa," she said slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "I know."
Molly caught up to Louey in the upstairs hallway just after she'd tucked Emma into bed an hour later. He was just coming out of his bedroom. Gunther stood some twenty feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, chewing on a toothpick.
"You saw Emma for all of two minutes, Louey. The first time you've seen her, I might add, in two years. I was thinking that you could have her play her new piano for you. You'll be impressed, I promise."
Louey Santera looked more harassed than scared at the moment, and he knew he had good reason to be scared. "Look, Molly, I saw her. What was I supposed to do, for God's sake? She's just fine. Oh, all right. The next time I see her, I'll ask her to play that ridiculous piano."
"All right, how about this after she's played for you- how about telling her you love her? You are her father, and she needs you, although that's a concept that never really took root in your brain."
"You wanted her, I didn't. You were a lot more fun before you had a kid, Molly. Remember those photos you took of me that Rolling Stone featured? Now those could have made you, but what did you do? You just laughed and said they were okay, not all that great. The editor at Rolling Stone said you were terrific, but you wouldn't hear about doing any more work for them."
"Louey, you're not remembering quite right. I was pregnant with Emma at the time and puking my toenails up on a very regular basis. I've been getting back into it since Emma's older."