"It's all right, Virginia," Ramsey said, his voice deep and gravelly this morning. He wanted a cup of coffee badly, but they wouldn't give it to him. The nurse had said he'd puke up his toenails if he drank coffee now. He wanted desperately to prove her either right or wrong. "Where's Emma?"
"I'm right here, Ramsey. Mama wanted me to pay attention to something else, but I told her I know what's going on. Does your shoulder hurt?"
"Nan, I'm a big guy, just like I told you. This isn't any-thing. I seem to be getting better at having my body parts shot all the time."
"I was afraid he would kill you, Ramsey," Emma said. "The water was all red. I would have gotten to you to help you, but that big lady wouldn't let go of me."
The thought of Emma jumping into the water like her mother had, maybe landing on Dickerson's head, nearly made his heart stop. He said, however, "Your mom saved my hide for you. Thanks. Now, Virginia, what's going to happen to Dickerson?"
"Your friend Dillon Savich is on his way out here. The kidnapping is federal so it's the FBI's call. He wants to speak to Dickerson himself. Also a profiler is coming. You know they're always interviewing sickos like Dickerson. He should be a gold mine of information for them. Are you up to giving the local boys a statement?"
He spoke to Lieutenant McPherson and his captain, Daniel Mapes. It took quite a while. He was white around the gills when Captain Mapes said, "That's enough, Judge Hunt. If we have more questions, we'll see you tomorrow."
"I didn't think they were ever going to leave," Molly said, coming to the bed. "You don't look so hot."
"I want a cup of coffee."
"I know. Here you are." It was a miracle. He avidly watched her pull the lid off a Styrofoam cup. He took three long drinks, then promptly wanted to die. It was close, but he wasn't about to let himself throw up. The nausea subsided, finally. Then he panicked. "Where's Emma?"
"She's all right. She's with Virginia, telling her exactly what happened. From a child's perspective, it should be very interesting. Now, you're to rest for a while longer. It sounds stupid to tell you how lucky you were when you're lying flat on your back feeling awful, but you are. You'll mend. The surgeon said you'd be ready to take me dancing by tomorrow night. Well, maybe Wednesday night."
Molly smiled at him, closed the door, and climbed up with him on the narrow hospital bed. She kissed his ear, his nose, his mouth. "You taste like hospital," she said, nuzzling his neck. "But since I'm dressed in silk, maybe it's that opposites-attract thing." She gave a deep sigh. "I wish we could play doctor."
"Molly, please don't make me hard. I can't begin to imagine what Nurse Hayman would do if she walked in and saw me pointing to the ceiling."
"She adores you. She'd probably pull me off you and take my place."
"Okay, enough of this newlywed stuff," said a man from the doorway.
"Not nearly as bad as Nurse Hayman," Molly said, and scooted off the bed.
It was Dillon Savich, grinning from ear to ear. Behind him was another man who looked as if he'd never smiled in his life. He looked like a medieval monk, all stiff and long and narrow, with a thin rim of gray hair circling his head.
"Hi, Ramsey, glad you're well enough to kiss Molly. Guys, this is Thomas Galviani, otherwise known as Tommy the Eye, a gentleman whose specialty is child molesters. He's one of the world's leading experts."
The man didn't change expression, just calmly nodded and shook Ramsey's hand. He said, "Savich thinks I'm too serious, but I'm not. I'm glad to meet you, Judge Hunt. I read about what a hell of a good job you did on those drug dealers in your courtroom. Everyone in the Bureau is still talking about it. I'm more than glad that this time our perp was caught before he killed. Congratulations on bringing him down."
"Thank you, Mr. Galviani."
"Tommy the Eye," he said without skipping a beat, his expression all bland, and Savich laughed.
"Where's Sherlock?"
Savich said to Molly, "She's in the women's room, cursing me. I said the P word to a doctor who was worried because she looked a bit on the pale side. I told him it had been a long trip and she was tired because she was pregnant. That was all it took."
"I hope," Tommy the Eye said, "that Sherlock doesn't shoot you before she stops having morning sickness."
They were still grinning when Sherlock came into die room. She walked up to her husband and punched him in the arm. Then she greeted Molly and Ramsey, all smiles.
She said, "I stopped by the ICU. Dickerson is still out of it. They'll let us know if and when he wakes up."
"I would like to speak to him," said Tommy the Eye. "I've read everything we've got, all the reports from his first trial, the transcripts of what he said when and to whom. He was a preferential child molester, that is to say, he's a pedophile who sexually molests children. The preferential abuses up to as many as a thousand children in his life, not like a situational molester, who may just abuse a dozen or so children.
This guy is a classic, with one exception. He brutalized Emma as well as sexually abused her. We call that a sadistic molester. Add to that the fact that with Emma he became obsessional. You don't see this all that often in child molesters, but it does happen. One particular child, the pedophile must have that child, no other. He lost all sense of survival. Most molesters would have just shrugged and moved on to another child, but Dickerson didn't. He just couldn't stop.
"He's not a stupid man, but he had to have known on some level that this obsession he had with Emma would bring him down. But he just couldn't help himself, couldn't stop himself, couldn't leave and forget her. I understand he's also excellent at disguise and makeup."
"That's what he told me when we were in the water," Ramsey said. "That's one of the reasons Rule Shaker's men hired him. Since Emma was going to be returned when Louey came around, the kidnapper couldn't be recognized, thus the disguise."
Tommy the Eye just shook his head. "He must have thought he'd died and gone to heaven when he got the job."
Ramsey said, "How does all this get confused with his religious needs? He told Emma that he needed her, actually needed her."
"I would really like to talk to him about that. He seems like a boiling cauldron with all sorts of things tossed in indiscriminately, from beliefs of how Emma would save him to hurting her so that she would be taking his punishments for him. I can't wait to dig into his brain. But we're mostly just thankful that he's out of commission now."
Molly said, "If and when you reach any understanding about him, Tommy, please tell us."
"I will, Mrs. Hunt."
He was rubbing his palms together.
33
BY THE TIME everyone had all the answers he or she wanted, Ramsey was feeling human enough to walk down to see Emma. She and Virginia Trolley were sitting in a corner of the cafeteria, their heads close together.
Emma looked up and saw him. She let out a yelp and dashed to him, wrapping herself around his leg.
"It's all right, Emma," he said, patting her head. "See? I'm walking. It's for real. Nobody's holding me up.
It was just another little bullet to a big macho guy like me. Now, let me pick you up so you can give me a proper hug."
"No, let me do it," Savich said and hoisted Emma up to eye level with Ramsey. She reached out and hugged him. He kissed her ear. "You smell good, Em. What is that? Oscar de la Renta?"
"No, that's the soap from the hotel." Then Emma drew back and said, "Was that a joke, Ramsey?"
Molly said to Sherlock, who was looking fit and quite beautiful and watching her husband with new eyes,
"Ramsey loves her so much. Maybe someday he'll even love me."
"The man's found Nirvana and he knows it, Molly,"