When Luke opened the door, Connor looked surprised to see him. He confirmed this impression by trying to look around him to see if anyone else was home.

Somewhat sheepishly, he grinned, "Hey, Luke. We were looking for your boy."

Luke frowned at Connor. The man wasn't the sort he wanted his son associating with.

"What do you want Aaron for?"

Connor looked around suspiciously, "Come out to the van. There's something I want you to see."

Looking back on the moment, Luke liked to believe that he would have put a stop to his part in the whole affair if he'd been sober. It had been years since he'd been drunk, much less as drunk as he'd gotten tonight. It had started out as a celebration and ended up being maudlin.

When he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that his curiosity might well have led him to go out to the van and see what Connor was so excited about. After all, Connor's van was a thing of legend going back to when they'd been in high school together. It was a big, green monstrosity, built in the 1970s and more suited to hauling freight than anything else. Connor had been rebuilding and tuning it for almost twenty years. In its latest incarnation, it was configured as a family transport. But, in high school, it had been, "The Big Green Love Machine."

"Just so you understand," said Connor as Luke was following him to the van, "we only want to scare her, make sure she doesn't do anything like this again."

Luke's stomach went cold. But, he wasn't surprised when he saw Sunny Talercio wedged in the back seat of the van between Tony Cooper and Paulie, Connor's cronies fir as long as Luke could remember.

"Hello, Mr. Madison," Sunny said. She looked scared.

"Hello, Sunny," said Luke, "What are you doing here?"

"Paulie," said Connor. "Come sit up front. Let Luke have your seat."

Paulie uncurled himself from the seat. Even in the big conversion van, he dwarfed his surroundings. Next to him, Sunny looked like a child which, in the eyes of the law, she still was.

Luke took Paulie's seat. Sunny looked like she was going to bolt, but didn't. Connor went back around and got into the driver's seat. Once he'd started the van up, he said, "Tony, start the videotape."

As was popular among parents at the time, there was a small TV screen mounted between the backs of the front seats attached to a VCR. When Tony pressed a button on the remote, the screen came to life. It was a grainy picture of Connor's living room. Connor was talking to Sunny on the tape. There was no sound.

"That's the tape from my nannycam," said Connor. "Fundamentally, it's marketed to make sure that your babysitter's not abusing your kids. I set it up tonight for the first time. How was Cole tonight, Sunny?"

Seemingly surprised at being addressed, Sunny said, "H-he was fine, Mr. Anderson. He never even woke up."

"I know that, girl," said Connor. "Because he wasn't there. His mother's got him this week. Tony, fast forward to seven minutes and four seconds and press play again."

When the screen came alive again, Sunny was seen standing near a desk in the corner of the living room. There was a jacket hung over the back of the chair. The tape seemed to have recorded one second out of every twelve or so, resulting in a jerky progression. But, what was happening was clear. As Sunny sitting next to him stared in horror, Sunny on the tape lifted the jacket, fished inside the pocket, grabbed a wad of cash, and stuffed it in her own purse.

"So, Sunny," asked Connor from the driver's seat. "How much did you steal from me?"

Sunny didn't answer. She just looked miserable.

"Did you think you were taking your payment for the evening in advance?" Connor asked, his tone mocking.

"No, Mr. Anderson," she said quietly.

"So, how much did you steal from me?"

"I... I don't know," she said in the same quiet voice.

For a while, they drove in silence, the only sound that of the wheels on wet pavement. Luke took the opportunity to get a good look at the girl sitting next to him. Small and darkly pretty, she was dressed in a purple tank top and denim skirt. As seemed to be the way, she'd turned out almost the opposite of what her name meant, both in appearance and demeanor--dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair, and dark motives. A little over a year ago, she'd decided to celebrate her fifteenth birthday by running off with her boyfriend for a long weekend. When questioned, she'd made up a story about being kidnapped and gang raped by several members of the high school football team, knowing they'd been out at Connor's hunting cabin, incommunicado. It had become a media circus at the center of which was Luke's son, Aaron. Even Luke's wife had believed the girl's accusations, divorcing her husband over his strident refusal to believe that his son was a rapist.

Somehow, in his mind, Luke had imagined Sunny as a horrible monster, eight feet tall, red of tooth and claw. And, while her nails were lacquered the aforementioned color, she looked like she was barely five foot tall, not at all monstrous, but human and scared.

There was a small part of Luke's mind that was horrified to realize that the rest of his mind didn't care. He'd been too angry at her for too long. She'd cost him his wife. She'd cost Aaron his college plans. Whatever Connor had in mind for her, it couldn't be more than she deserved. She'd eventually recanted her accusation, but not until many lives were ruined.

Still, that small part that was still ruled by his conscience made him ask, "Where are you bringing her, Connor?"

"Well," said Conner, "I've got to think this is a pretty clear violation of her parole. I thought I would take her to the police."

"No!" said Sunny. Her voice and eyes were frantic. "Please," she begged. "If you do that, I'll go to jail."

"You're a thief and a liar, Sunny," said Connor. "That's where thieves and liars go--jail."

For the first time, Sunny showed real signs of life, trying to lunge forward as she gave a strangled cry of, "No! You can't." But, Tony threw an arm across her, catching her in the windpipe. Luke thought it was by accident, but wasn't sure. She collapsed backwards, clutching her throat.

"Is she all right?" Connor asked, not sounding like he particularly cared one way or another.

Luke took her hands and drew them away from her throat. There was a faint red mark there, but no obvious material damage.

"She'll live," he said, amazed at how callous he sounded.

"Good," said Connor. "We wouldn't want to be murderers here."

"You wouldn't?" Sunny asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Somehow, Connor heard it from the front seat, "No. You deserve to be punished, but nobody died from what you did. The judge did say that you would be treated as an adult if you violated parole, didn't he?"

Luke was surprised that Connor knew so many details of the case. He hadn't been directly involved. It took Luke a minute to remember that Connor's brother, Aaron's football coach, had lost his job over the allegations and declined to be rehired afterwards. The coach was such a stand-up guy that it was easy to forget that he was related to Connor.

Sunny didn't answer Connor's question. She just sat with her head down and cried great, heaving sobs. If they'd seemed at all remorseful, Luke might have felt some sympathy, but it seemed clear she was only sorry she'd gotten caught.

"What did you think," asked Connor. "You could steal from me like that and we'd just send you back to your deadbeat parents?"

"No," said Sunny more quietly this time, most of the fight seeming to have gone out of her, "please don't do that."

"What?" asked Luke. "Don't take you to your parents?"

She shook her head, "Please don't take me to my parents. Even the police would be better."

Luke stared at her, incredulous, for a good twenty seconds before he burst out laughing, "And don't throw me in that briar patch, Br'er Fox. Nice try. Take her to the cops if that's what she says she wants."

The glare she gave him told Luke he'd hit the mark. He glared right back.

Connor turned the van onto a country road, "You understand the situation you're in. Don't you, Sunny?"

Sunny lowered her head again, seemingly not willing to speak. After a few minutes of sullen silence, she asked, "Where are we going?"

Connor laughed, "Don't you recognize the place? It's where you were held hostage for three days."

"I told everyone," said Sunny. "That never happened."

"Eventually," Luke heard himself say. He realized that he was getting angrier as this progressed. A sixteen year-old girl shouldn't have the power to ruin so many lives and not suffer any real consequences.

"What do you think would happen," asked Connor, pulling onto a dirt road that led up into the woods, "if you disappeared for a weekend again and came back with the same story?"

"I wouldn't do that," she said defiantly.

"Good," said Connor. "Then, I suggest you start working on another story."

Sunny made a decent effort at escape when they were piling out of the van outside of the hunting lodge. She'd seemed docile enough when he stepped out of the van. But, as he turned to help her down, she launched herself at him, bouncing off his chest and forcing him to stagger backwards.

As he reached for her, the full realization of what he might be doing hit him like a second blow in the chest. Instead of restraining her, he released her arms like they were hot. With everyone else still in the van, she would be able to put some distance between herself and them.

Instead of running, Sunny glared at him, hatred back in her eyes, and drove her knee between his legs. Only by twisting did he take the blow on his inner thigh instead of somewhere much more sensitive. As it was, his leg crumbled and he collapsed in a heap on top of her.

Even underneath his weight, she kicked and clawed. As a matter of self-preservation, he found himself straddling her waist and pinning her hands. When Connor got around the van, Luke had just transferred Sunny's wrists to one hand.

Taking her wrists from Luke, Connor jerked her to a standing position from underneath him with one rough motion. Then, even before she'd found her footing, he backhanded her in the side of the head, sending her into a sprawling heap again.

"Paulie," he said. "Carry her inside and keep an eye on her."

Paulie leaned down and threw Sunny over his shoulder like a sack of wheat. Not exactly unconscious, she lay there limply.