Larry Bassett’s Reviews > Blossom > Status Update

"Burke…if he's in there…if you're so sure he's in there…why do you look so depressed?" "There's so many…so many. I can't bring it down too tight. I could miss him if I do. These reports are full of busted–up babies. Burned, beaten, crippled. Sexually abused. And every one of these files, they sent the kid home again. Everything all right again."

"It's a Zen exercise," I told Blossom. "Dark Zen. You have to cross over the line to where he is, you want to find him. I can do that."

They answered him. Tapped their whiskey glasses together, yelled "That's right!" up at the stage, groaned their encouragement. "And you threw her away, didn't you? You let her go. You gave up a used Cadillac for a new Ford, you know what I'm saying?" They knew.

"This is Blossom. At the diner?" "I'm here." Nothing in my voice. In my mind: how did she get the number? "I need to talk with you. Can you come by this afternoon? After closing? I get off at four." Not at six, like Cyndi? "Okay," is all I said. "Come around to the back. You…" "I know where it is."

Blossom came by, a tray in each hand. I chewed the tuna slowly, thinking about my target. A crash from the booth behind us. "Get your hands off me!" Blossom. I turned. The fat one had his hand under Blossom's skirt, laughing as she pounded at his face, warding her off easily with one hand.

BLOSSOM FINALLY IN ACTION HALFWAY THROUGH THE BOOK!

When Raitt got to singing "Guilty," I felt Belle's loss so hard I couldn't get a clean breath. I'd paid off her debts, but it didn't set me free. My soul jumped the tracks and it took a monster and a witch to save me. It wasn't just a sex–sniper I was looking for in Indiana.

Burke is kind of like a self-taught psychotherapist who has his own approach to eliciting the truth from people who may or may not be pedophiles. I know that Vachss has written some books about some approaches to treatment and I wonder what the overlap is and what is reality and what is novel creation.

Whatever it takes. You a member of the family. My wife's cousin. Blood kin. You didn't do it, we're behind you. I risked my house for you. My home. Where my children live. And it looks like I may be going back to jail for a little bit too. That's okay. A man's got no more than his family."

Them. Humans who kill for love. Torture for fun. They set fires to watch the flames. Black–glove rapists. Snuff–film directors. Trophy–takers. Baby–fuckers. Pain turns on the switch. Blood lubricates the machinery. Then the power–rush comes. And they do too. It's not sex. Castrate the freaks and they use broomsticks or Coke bottles.