Yuki turned and saw Keith Herman, handcuffed and flanked by two armed guards, walking toward the bar. He was smiling as if he’d just gotten a free pass to the good seats in heaven.
A woman in the gallery said loudly, “Oh, my God.”
Two more people had come through the double doors; John Kinsela was holding the hand of a cute little girl with honey-blond hair. The child was about eight, wearing jeans, a floral print shirt, and a pink hoodie. She looked neat and clean.
Yuki’s heartbeat sped over the legal limit. She recognized that little girl. From the rustle and gasps in the gallery, everyone did. This child’s picture had been on the news and had circumnavigated the Internet a million times since she’d gone missing.
Kinsela stopped in the aisle beside his table and said to the judge, “I apologize for being late, Your Honor, but I received an urgent call just an hour ago. Then I needed my client to confirm this little girl’s identity.”
“Explain yourself, Mr. Kinsela.”
“Judge, I’d like to introduce you to my client’s daughter, Lily Herman. She was found alive and well, sitting on the front steps of her former home.
“We respectfully request that you dismiss the charges against Mr. Herman.”
Chapter 53
YUKI THOUGHT SOMETHING was very wrong with Lily Herman. The child seemed distracted, as if she were seeing things from a distance or through a filter. She had to have been traumatized, or maybe she was drugged. Where had she been for the last year? What had happened to her?
The judge sat behind the desk in his chambers, opened his drawer, and said, “Lily, I’m a bit of a chocolate nut. How about you? Do you like M&M’s?”
“I like Jell-O,” Lily said. “The purple kind.”
Nussbaum said, “I’m sorry, Lily. I’m out of Jell-O. We’ll be able to get you some after we talk. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
Lily kicked her feet under the judge’s side chair, looked around, blinked at Yuki, then slid her gaze over Kinsela, who was sitting in a chair against the wall. Kinsela smiled, but the child turned away and brought her attention back to the judge. He asked her if she knew the difference between a lie and the truth.
“Yeppers. I know the difference.”
“It’s very important, so important that you have to swear to God to tell the truth.”
“No problem,” said the eight-year-old. “I swear to God.”
“What’s your full name, dear?” Nussbaum asked.
“Lily Baines Herman.”
“And how old are you, Lily?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know what month this is?”
“Is it summer yet?”
“Not yet, but soon,” said the judge. “You’ve been missing for a long time. Everyone has been worried. Where have you been?”
“In a room. In a house,” she said. “I had a TV and a little tiny tabby kitten. Pokey.”
Lily’s gaze wandered again as she took in the rows of law books, the many-paned windows, the heavy furnishings, and the landscape paintings. Yuki would have given a million bucks to know what she was thinking.
“Who else lived in this house?”
“Marcia and Alan.”
“Do you know their last names?”
“Nopey-nope-nope.”
“Are you related to them? Are they family members?”
“No way!”
“So help me out, Lily. Tell me all about these people and how you came to be living with them. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Yuki, Kinsela, and Judge Nussbaum waited for the little girl to elaborate on her one-word answer. Finally, she stopped swinging her legs and began to speak as if she were reading or playing a part.
“They had masks. Different ones on different days. Like devil masks. Like pig masks. They told me their names but I never saw their faces. I had my own room and a bathroom and I had a computer for games. I had three meals a day and a snack before bedtime.”
“Could you use a phone?”
“Nopey-nope-nope.”
“You were kidnapped,” the judge said.
Lily shrugged. “They didn’t hurt me.” Then, “I miss Pokey.”
“Did your father have anything to do with this, Lily? For instance, was he keeping you safe? Is that what he told you?”
“My daddy didn’t know where I was or he would have come to get me. He loves me. He would have given Marcia and Alan a beating.”
“Did Marcia and Alan take you home this morning, Lily?”
“When can I see my mommy?”
Chapter 54
I PARKED THE Explorer three feet away from the curb on Lake Street, but I was so dirty-dog-tired that I didn’t have the strength to park it again.
I opened the apartment door, and when Martha didn’t throw herself at me, I tiptoed around the entranceway to the living room. Joe was in his big leather recliner, Julie in his arms with her head on his shoulder, both of them sound asleep. Martha lifted her head, flapped her tail, then put her face back down on Joe’s slipper.
I couldn’t imagine a warmer welcome.
I ditched my gun, phone, jacket, and shoes—just dropped all of it on a chair. Then I hit the soft leather sofa with the puffy cushions, drew up the chenille throw, and settled in.
I was dreaming about Julie wearing a big-girl party dress and blowing out birthday candles when I heard Joe speaking. I opened my eyes a crack, saw that lamps were lit, and that it was dark outside. I must have gotten about four hours of sleep.
Joe was saying into the phone, “Okay. Tomorrow morning, nine a.m. We’ll be there.”
He hung up looking grim and walked with the baby to the kitchen, where he heated up a bottle in the microwave. When the oven beeped, he tested the milk, then started back across the room with the baby.
“Honey, who was that on the phone?” I asked.
“Hey, you were really out. Do you feel better?”
“Was that Dr. Gordon?”
“Uh-huh. We have an appointment tomorrow morning.”
“Did she get the tests back?”
“I think so. But she would have told me if anything was wrong. The baby is warm,” he said.
“How warm?”
“She keeps fluctuating between normal and a hundred and three. She goes up. She goes down. Our roller- coaster baby.”
“Joe. This can’t be right. I’m really getting scared. Actually, I’m way past scared. I’m terrified.”
I rolled Julie’s crib into our bedroom, next to my side of the bed. It was another night when supposedly nothing was really wrong with Julie, but I didn’t believe it. I’d been told that babies get fevers, that all new mothers worry this way, but I felt alarmed every time I touched her skin.
