"Damn difficult!" Zack jumped up and followed her to the cold fireplace. When she turned to face him, he put his hands on her arms. "Just tell me what I have to do."

Maddy suddenly felt small and unprotected. She was surprised to discover it wasn't altogether a bad feeling. "Well," she said, smiling slightly, "for starters, I'd get a lawyer."

"I have one." Zack brushed that impatiently aside. "What else?"

"You've already got Larry Whitlaw on your side. That helps."

Zack looked at her speculatively. "You've already talked with Larry about this."

She nodded.

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What about you? Are you on my side?" His voice was soft.

He touched the side of her face, then fingered a strand of damp hair back behind her ear.

Light shivers ran through her scalp and down her neck, just under her skin. She felt an urge to tilt her head and nuzzle her cheek against his hand. "Yes," she whispered. It was a kind of sigh. "Of course I'm on your side."

His triumphant laughter woke her from the sensual daze his nearness had induced. She muttered something vague about its being time to go and ran up the stairs to the bathroom where she had left her clothes.

Oh, yes, she was on his side. She'd do anything for that man. She'd just realized that, and it scared her a bit. She'd do what she could to help him win custody of Theresa, even though she wanted the little girl so badly herself, she ached with it.

Oh, be honest with yourself, Amanda, she thought as she drove home through the winding streets that bordered the golf course. You know what you really want!

She tried it on in her imagination, and it made a lovely vision through her tears, haloed in a pink shimmer of sunset: a dark-haired little girl smiling happily up at the two people on either side of her; one hand lost in the brawny grip of a man with powerful, swimmer's legs and unruly hair frosted with gold; the other held securely in the hand of a tall woman with Nordic coloring and a touch of self-consciousness in her walk…

Zack wasn't looking forward to the hearing. He didn't know what to expect, but had a vague idea he ought to be making a good impression, so he'd put on a sport jacket and a tie.

He'd even gotten a haircut, in a last-ditch effort to subdue his hair. As far as he could see, it hadn't done anything but leave a telltale strip of untanned skin on the back of his neck, letting the whole world know just exactly what he'd tried to do.

"Relax," Larry Whitlaw told him as they were crossing the courtyard of the county building complex. "It's routine. The judge will ask a few questions, you answer in simple sentences, and that's it."

"Yeah, sure." Zack hadn't been in a courtroom since the day he'd faced a judge in juvenile traffic court about his first-and last-speeding ticket. He didn't remember it as having been a particularly pleasant experience. The judge had bawled him out and given him a choice of paying a fine or going to traffic school and having his driving record wiped clean. It hadn't been a hard decision to make. And then his dad had taken the fine out of his allowance anyway, and impounded his car keys for two weeks to boot.

That had been another time, another place, another courthouse, but Zack had an idea they were all pretty much alike. Big, dim, cold, and intimidating-a hell of a place for a little, tiny kid. He said as much to Larry.

The psychologist threw him a look as he dodged a gardener with a leaf blower. "Oh, Theresa won't be in the courtroom. The judge will talk to her privately in chambers." He raised his voice above the noise of the blower. "You won't even see Theresa today."

"Oh." Zack was surprised at how disappointed he was. "I don't see how a judge's chambers are much better," he said irritably. "It still seems like a hell of a thing for a little kid to have to face all alone."

"Don't worry about her," Larry said, chuckling. "I know what you're thinking, but believe me, Theresa will be okay. Judge Bergman's chambers happen to be about as depressing and intimidating as a bowlful of daffodils. And besides, she'll have Maddy with her, and probably another caseworker-"

"Maddy?" Zack halted in the middle of the courtyard beside a huge fountain inlaid with Spanish tile.

Larry checked his long stride and looked back at him, frowning at the interruption.

"Yeah, Maddy Gordon. Know her?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. We met at the pool. She's the one who told me to keep an eye on-"

"That's right. I'd forgotten." Larry snapped his fingers and took off again at his top speed-a loose-jointed lope. "Great girl… terrific with the kids. Uses puppets." He beamed at Zack over his shoulder.

Zack had to stretch some to catch up. "Yeah, I know."

Larry held the courthouse door open wide. He was trying hard to keep his expression innocent. "Let's see… How long's it been since Carol died?"

Zack threw him a look. "Two years. Why?"

All Larry would say was "Hmm," as he sprinted for the elevator. Zack caught up with him in time to squeeze through the closing doors. In silence they watched the numbers above the door light up, one by one.

"I'm giving her swimming lessons," Zack announced as the bell dinged for the fourth floor.

"Good for you," Larry murmured placidly, bolting through the door and down the hall.

Zack felt a lot better, knowing Maddy was going to be with Theresa. Larry was right-she was good with kids. He remembered the way Theresa had clung to her instinctively that day at the pool. In fact, he remembered everything about the way they'd looked together, with Theresa's great big owl-eyes peering at him, and her head just about on a level with Maddy's thighs…

Well, he was glad she was here-for Theresa's sake.

He actually managed to sustain that fiction until the moment she walked into the courtroom.

She was wearing tan slacks and a short-sleeved pink sweater, something so soft and fuzzy-looking, it made him want to cuddle it. Her hair… She really didn't wear it in any particular style, nothing faddish or trendy, anyway. It just hung there, down to where it brushed her shoulders, and when she moved, it swung with a silky ripple that reminded him of ripe wheat blowing in the wind. Everything about her made him want to touch.

"Hi, Larry," she said. She sat down next to the psychologist, then leaned across him to add in a breathy whisper, "Hi, Zack." Her cheeks were flushed and her mouth looked soft. Zack found, to his dismay, that he wanted to touch that part of her too.

She smiled at him, mercifully unaware of the images in his head, and murmured, "You've worn a tie." She seemed to want to say something else, but at that moment there was a small commotion at the back of the courtroom. Maddy glanced over her shoulder, then quickly faced front.

"That's the uncle and aunt," she said in a low voice. "Doesn't look as though they've brought counsel."

"Told you they wouldn't contest," Larry said smugly. "We'll be out of here in ten minutes."

Zack had told himself he wouldn't look at the man he'd reported for abusing a child. He'd told himself he had to stay calm and in control to make a good impression on the judge. But he couldn't help himself. The compulsion to turn his head was overpowering.

He didn't know what he'd expected. Some kind of monster, for sure. Something subhuman. He hadn't expected a perfectly ordinary-looking couple, just a couple you might run into in the supermarket, or at a PTA meeting. The man was dark, with curly hair and a receding hairline and a moustache. He wasn't a big man, but he looked fit. The woman had light brown hair cut short. She seemed nondescript, and wore a scared look that Zack thought was probably permanent. She kept looking around as if she expected something awful to pop out at her any minute. Her he could feel sorry for.

He turned back to face the judge's bench, but he wasn't seeing it. He kept seeing Theresa's face, all bruised and swollen, with that one red eye. And then, without warning, he saw something he'd thought he'd managed to banish from his memory: Josh's face, as it had looked when he'd carried him out of the pool. And then the two faces, overlaying each other…

"Zack. Are you okay?"

It was Maddy's voice, tight with concern. Her hand was on his knee. He stared at her like a person waking from a nightmare. He wanted to say something to her, to reassure her, but at that moment the bailiff intoned, "All rise…"

The present reclaimed him; the hearing had begun.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Larry asked. His grin was disgustingly cheerful, but his eyes were kind, and Zack knew he meant to be soothing.

They were back in the courtyard again, basking in welcome sunshine beside the Spanish fountain. Zack scowled at the merrily tumbling water, forgetting he'd ever touted its tranquilizing properties. "Still think you should have pressed charges," he grumbled. "That guy should be put away."

"So his wife can go on welfare?" Larry said mildly. "And the guy comes out angrier and more violent than when he went in?" His eyebrows lifted reproachfully. "Are you interested in justice or revenge, my friend? We've got the child. He'll never harm her again."

"Temporarily."

"Oh, well, that's just procedure. The permanent-custody hearing's been set-"

"For July seventh. That's only thirty days." Zack shot a look of appeal at Maddy, who seemed to be avoiding his eyes. Either that or she'd developed a sudden fascination with Spanish tile. "That doesn't seem like very much time."

"It's a little shorter than usual," Larry said, "but that's because the aunt testified that there aren't any other relatives willing and able to take in a child. The court just needs enough time to verify that fact-they don't want her in limbo any longer than necessary- and then…" Larry beamed. "Theresa's ours."