3
"I think she's asleep," Gia whispered.
She sat on the bed next to her sleeping daughter, holding her hand. Jack stood on the other side.
"About time," he said, looking down at the skinny little form curled under the covers of her bed. He reached out and smoothed her dark hair. "Poor kid."
Vicky had huddled between Jack and Gia in the back of the cab, shaking and sobbing all the way home. Even the safety of her own bedroom hadn't calmed her.
"What kind of human garbage would frighten a child like that?" Gia said.
She hadn't actually seen what had happened, so she didn't know that the guy hadn't been trying simply to frighten Vicky—he'd been on the verge of tossing her down the steps and possibly to her death. Jack saw no point in enlightening Gia. She was already furious. Why make her sick?
"Never seen anything like it," Jack said. "Like they all went crazy at once."
"Who were they?" Gia said, then set her jaw. "No, never mind that; I don't care about the others. I don't care about the one who was pawing me. I just want to know who it was that frightened Vicky like this. And then I want to press charges against him and have him put away."
"Where they'll put him in a cell with a three-hundred-pound serial killer who'll rename him Alice?" Jack said.
Gia nodded. "For life."
"You think that'll happen?" he said softly.
"I'll make it happen."
"Can you identify him?"
Gia looked up at Jack. "No. I didn't get a good look at him. But you…" She looked away. "No, I guess you can't identify him, can you. Can't have testimony from someone who doesn't exist."
"And you don't want to put Vicky in the middle of all that—making identification, testifying, all for what? At best, his lawyer will get him off with a fine and a suspended sentence."
Gia shook her head and sighed. "It's not fair. He attacks me, scares my little girl half to death—he shouldn't be able to just walk away."
"Well, he's not walking. Looked like he wound up with a broken leg."
"Not enough," Gia said, staring at Vicky's face. "Not nearly enough."
"My sentiments exactly," Jack said. He leaned over and kissed the top of Gia's head. "Gotta run."
"Where are you going?"
"Gotta see a guy about something."
"You've got that look…"
"I won't be long."
She nodded. "Be careful."
Jack let himself out onto Sutton Square and walked toward Sutton Place in search of a cab. Usually Gia would try to stop him, telling him to stay calm and stay put. But not tonight. Someone had frightened her daughter—touched her daughter—and she didn't want anyone thinking he could do such a thing and get away with it.
Neither did Jack.
He knew the guy could've killed her, and looked like he'd meant to. Jack tried to keep that fact at a distance, to maintain an oblique perspective. Not easy to do, but he knew if he got too close, if he thought about where Vicky might be now if he'd been delayed a single heartbeat, he'd blow again.
Needed to be cool and deliberate in his approach to this guy. Had to find a way to pound home the message that he must never try something like that again, not to any child, but especially not to Miss Victoria Westphalen. Jack considered Vicky his daughter. Genetically she had another father, but in every other way, in every corner of Jack's mind and heart, Vicks was his little girl. And someone who looked like Porky Pig had tried to kill her.
Bad move, Porky.