It was the stunned, pale look of bad news. Decker
immediately thought of his parents, both in their mid-
eighties, and though their health wasn't failing, they had
had some problems over the past year. Right away, Rina had
the good sense to tell him that the family was fine.
Decker was holding his daughter's hand. Looking down at
the little girl, he said, "Hannah Rosie, let me fix you up
with some videos and a snack. I think Eema needs to talk
to me."
"It's okay, Daddy. I can do it myself. Eema taught me how
to use the microwave."
"Nine years old and ready for college." "No, Daddy, but I
can use a VCR and a microwave." She turned to her
mother. "I got an A on a spelling test. I didn't even
study." "That's wonderful. Not that you didn't study, but
that you got an A." Rina kissed her daughter's
cheek. "I'll be with you in a minute." "Whatever..."
Hannah left, rolling her wheeled backpack into the kitchen.
"You should sit." Decker regarded his wife. "You're
colorless." "I'm all right." But she sank down into the
couch, hugging a blue-and- white-checked throw pillow like
a life preserver. Her cerulean eyes skittered around the
living room, first landing on the lamp, then bouncing off
Decker's special leather chair, onto the white wicker
rocker. Anywhere but on his face.
"My parents are fine?" he asked specifically. "Perfect,"
Rina reiterated. "Jonathan called—" "Oh God! His
mother?" "No, she's fine."
Jonathan's mother was Frieda Levine. She was also Decker's
biological mother, making Jon his half brother. Ten years
ago, by accident rather than by design, Decker had met up
with his maternal family, which included five half
siblings. Ties had been forged: more than mere
acknowledgments, but less than time-tested relationships.
Decker still considered his only parents to be the two
people who had adopted him in infancy. "Then what's going
on?"
They both heard the microwave beep. A moment later, Hannah
came out, juggling a pizza bagel on a plate, a big glass
of milk, and her backpack. Decker said, "Let me help you
with that, sweetie."
Wordlessly, she handed her father the food and her
schoolbag, skipping off to her bedroom, orange ringlets
flying behind her. Like the faithful valet, Decker
followed several steps behind. Rina got up, went into the
kitchen, and started a pot of coffee. Nervously, she
pulled off her head covering and unclipped the barrette
holding a ponytail, shaking out a shoulder-length sheet of
iridescent black hair. Then she tied it up again, but left
the head covering off. She picked imaginary dirt off her
jeans skirt, then moved on to the imaginary lint on her
pink sweater. She gnawed the edge of her thumb, but that
only made the hangnail worse.
Decker came back in, sat down at their cherry breakfast
table—a bit scarred but still rock solid. When he carved
it, he had used the best-quality wood he could find, and
it showed. He took off his blue suit jacket and draped it
over the back of his chair. He loosened his tie, then ran
a hand through rust-colored hair heavily streaked with
white. "What's with the Levines?"
"It's not the Levines, Peter; it's Jonathan's in-laws, the
Liebers— Raisie's family. There's been a terrible
incident. His brother-in-law Ephraim was found dead—" "Oh
no!"
"Murdered, Peter. They found him in some seedy hotel room
in upper Manhattan. To add to the confusion, he was with
his fifteen- year-old niece—his brother's daughter. Now,
she's missing. The family's in shambles." "When did all
this happen?"
"I just hung up with Jonathan about five minutes before
you came home. I think they found the body around three
hours ago." Decker looked at his watch. "Around 4 P.M. New
York time?" "I guess."
"What was this guy doing in a 'seedy hotel room' with his
fifteenyear- old niece in the middle of a school
afternoon?"
A rhetorical question. Rina didn't answer. Instead, she
gave Decker a slip of paper with Jonathan's phone number.
"It's horrible." Decker fingered the paper. "I feel
terrible for them. But this call... Is it just a comfort
call? I mean, Jon doesn't expect me to do anything, does
he?"
"I don't know, Peter. I suppose he'd like you to work
miracles. In lieu of that, maybe you should call him up
and listen to what happened."
"He can't expect me to go out there." "I don't know.
Maybe. You have a pretty good track record."
"A prisoner of my own success. I have a job, Rina. As much
as my heart goes out to them—it truly is horrible—I can't
leave at a moment's notice and run off to Boro Park."
"Actually, Chaim Lieber and his family live in Quinton,
which is upstate. His widowed father lives there as well.
Jonathan's wife, Raisie, is Chaim's younger sister. It's
Chaim's daughter who's missing." "In upstate?" Decker
thought a moment. "Is the family religious?" "Yes. Quinton
is a very religious enclave. The family's black hat,
superreligious except for Raisie. She's Conservative like
Jonathan." "The outcast," Decker said.
"She and Jonathan were lucky to find each other." Rina got
up and poured two cups of coffee. "They both came from the
same background and have altered their lifestyles for
similar reasons." "And her father lives in Quinton. By
himself?" "I believe so. Raisie's mother died around ten
years ago. Don't you remember their talking about her
memory at Jonathan's wedding?"
"No, but I wasn't paying close attention." Decker stared
at the number. "Why don't you tend to Hannah while I do
this?" "Don't want me hanging over your shoulder?" He
stood up. "I don't know what I want." He gave Rina a kiss
on the forehead. "I know what I don't want. I don't want
to make this phone call."
Rina took his hand and squeezed it. "Why don't you talk
from the bedroom? That way I can get dinner
started." "Fine. I'm starved. What are we having?" "Lamb
chops or salmon?" "I get a choice?"
"Both are fresh. Whatever you don't want, I'll
freeze." "Hannah hates fish."
"She hates lamb chops, too. I have some leftover schnitzel
for her." "Lamb chops, then." Decker made a face, then
went inside the bedroom and closed the door. He kicked off
his shoes and stretched out on his California king bed,
dialing the number. It wasn't Jonathan's home phone in
Manhattan, so Decker figured that it must be either his
cell or possibly his synagogue, located near Columbia
University. His half brother was a Conservative-pulpit
rabbi. On the sixth ring, he answered.
"Jon!" Decker said. "Akiva!" A loud whoosh of air. "Thank
you so much for calling!" "My God, Rina just told me.
That's terrible! You must be going through hell!"
"Not as bad as my wife's family. At this point, we're all
shellshocked." "I'm sure you are. When did this
happen?" "About three hours ago. About four o'clock
here." "Jeez. And what do the police say?" "Not much of
anything. That's the problem. What does that mean?" "It
means they probably don't know much." "Or aren't telling
us anything." "That could be. I'm so sorry."
There was silence over the line. Jonathan said, "You
didn't ask how it happened."
"If you want to tell me the details, I'm here." "I don't
want to burden you...."
But that's exactly what he was going to do. "Tell me
what's going on, Jon. Start at the beginning. Tell me
about the family." "Oh my." A sigh. "Raisie comes from a
family of five-two boys, three girls. Both of her brothers
are older. Chaim is the eldest, then Ephraim, the one who
was... murdered. Raisie's the oldest daughter. Chaim
Joseph is a typical oldest son... reliable, responsible.
He and his wife, Minda, have seven children. He's a good
man who has always worked hard in the family business."
"Which is?" "Several retail electronic stores in
Brooklyn... one on the Lower East Side. You know, TVs,
stereos, cameras, computers, mobile phones, DVDs,
etcetera. The second brother, Ephraim Boruch... the one
who this happened to... he's had some problems in the
past."
"What kind of problems?" "Relationship problems—married
and divorced." "Kids?" "None." Silence. "And?" Decker
prompted.
"Drug problems," Jonathan admitted. "Addiction and
rehab." "That probably had a lot to do with his
relationship problems." "No doubt. Ephraim has been
divorced for ten years. His ex is out of the picture. She
remarried and now lives in Israel. As for Ephraim, he's
straightened himself out. He's been sober for the last two
years. About that time, he also joined the family business
with his older brother."
"How's that working out?" "Fine, as far as I know. He was
always the favorite uncle of all the nieces and nephews.
He especially got along well with his niece Shaynda, who
is the oldest in Chaim's family." "The missing niece."
"Yes, the missing niece. Shaynda, like Ephraim, has a
rebellious streak. She has been typecast as the problem
child in the family since grade school. She's a beautiful
girl, Akiva, with incredible spirit, and maybe that's part
of the problem. She has not walked the walk or talked the
talk." "Specifically?"
"Skipping school, hanging out at the mall with public-
school kids. A couple of times, she had sneaked out of the
house at night. My brother and sister-in-law came down on
her with an iron fist. Unfortunately, the tougher they
got, the more Shayndie fought. She and the mother have a
miserable relationship. But the shining light had been
Uncle Ephraim. He and Shayndie seemed to have had this
rapport. More and more, she began to confide in him. They
began spending time together—"
"Hmm..." "I know what you're thinking. I would have sworn
up and down that it wasn't that at all." "Wasn't what?"
"That he wasn't molesting her. When they first started
spending time, I thought it was odd-the amount of time
they spent together. So did Raisie. We had a long talk
with Shaynda because we figured no one else would. We
asked her point-blank. When she said no— she seemed
genuinely shocked—we gave a step by step of what to be
aware of. After the conversation, both Raisie and I were
satisfied that Ephraim really had the girl's interest at
heart. We had no reason to suspect that Ephraim was
anything more than just a loving uncle trying to reach out
to his troubled niece."
"But now you think differently." A long sigh. "Maybe. The
two of them were supposed to be going on an outing this
morning... to the Met. To see the new Dutch/ Vermeer
exhibit."
"This morning?" Decker paused. "It's Thursday. She doesn't
have school?"
"I don't know, Akiva. Maybe her mother gave her the day
off. Maybe her allergies were acting up. I didn't think it
appropriate to question my sister-in-law." "Of course. Go
on."
Jonathan stuttered a few times, trying to get the words
out. "Ephraim was found dead in a hotel room. Did Rina
tell you that?"
"Yes." "He'd been shot, Akiva. He was also...
naked." "Good Lord!" "I know. It's awful!" "Any sign of
the girl? Clothes left behind? Personal effects... like a
purse, maybe?" "Nothing that I've heard."
"Any sign of a struggle? Torn sheets? Things in disarray?"
Decker licked his lips. "Blood other than from..." He
wanted to say the kill spot. "Blood other than where
Ephraim was shot?" "I wouldn't know. The police aren't
saying much. They claim that they're just gathering
information at this point, but we all know what they're
thinking."
Defensiveness in his voice, but it was seasoned with
anguish. Decker said, "And what are the police
thinking?" "That somehow we're guilty. Of course, they
have to ask the family lots of questions. But they've made
all of us feel more like criminals than like victims.
Believe me, Akiva, I didn't want to call you. I know it's
unfair of me to call you. But no one here is able to
handle this. Is there anything—anything at all—that you
can say to advise us?" Decker's head was awhirl.
Jonathan added in a gush of words, "And if it's not too
difficult, perhaps you could make a couple of calls? As
one detective to another."
The words hung in the air. Jonathan said, "I shouldn't be
asking you this—" "It's all right, Jon. I just have to
think for a moment." "Take all the time..." Decker closed
his eyes and felt a headache coming on. "Can I call you
back in a few minutes?" "Of course—"
Decker clicked off the line before his brother could add
another obligation. He went to the bathroom, took two
Advils, then treated himself to a needle-hot shower. Ten
minutes later, he slipped on soft worn denims and a work
shirt. With trepidation, he punched the phone's redial
button.
"Hello?" "Okay, Jon, listen up. First thing you need to do
is hire a lawyer." "Hire a lawyer?" Surprise in his
voice. "Why?" "Because you don't like the way the police
are questioning you. You need protection." "But won't that
make us look bad?"
"It will raise a couple of eyebrows, sure. But weighing
the pros and the cons, it's no debate. Go out and find the
best criminal defense attorney in town, and see if you can
get an appointment with him ASAP. See if he'll take you on
if things get... complicated. You've got to entertain the
real possibility that someone in your family knows more
about this than he or she is letting on."
"I can't accept that." "Fine. Don't accept that. Just
listen to me, okay? And don't talk to the police without
an attorney present. Just as a precaution." No response.
Decker tried to hide his irritation. "Are you
there?" "Yes, I'm here. Sorry. I'm writing this down. Go
on." Decker slowed it down. "Jon, I don't mean to snap at
you. I'm used to barking orders."
"It's fine, Akiva. Believe me, it's wonderful to talk to
you... to someone who knows what he's doing." "That
remains to be seen. After you've talked to a lawyer, have
him call me. I'll talk to him directly."
"That's it?" "For the time being." "What about the police,
Akiva?" "Let me talk to the lawyer first. New York law is
different than L.A. law, and it would help all of you if I
didn't act precipitously." There was a long silence.
Decker knew what was coming. Jonathan said, "I know this
is dreadfully wrong to ask, Akiva. But it would really
help us out if you could maybe..." "Come out for the
weekend?" Decker completed the sentence. "I'll understand
if you say no." Decker said, "Let me call you back in
five, all right?" "Akiva, thank you so much—"
"Wait until you get my answer before you thank me." Decker
hung up. Rina was standing at the doorway. "You've been
listening?" "Just for a minute. I think you gave him good
advice—about the lawyer."
"I'm glad you approve. He wants me to come out there. What
do you think?"
"I can't make that decision for you, Peter." "I know that.
But I still want to know what you think." "How do you feel
about flying?" Decker shrugged. "It's a big hassle now,
but I'm not nervous if that's what you're asking."
"If you don't go," Rina said, "you'll feel guilty." He
cursed under his breath, soft enough that it wasn't
offensive, but loud enough so Rina could hear. "It isn't
fair to get me involved." "No, it isn't."
"It's a family member. If I uncover muck or deliver bad
news, I'm going to get blamed." "Probably."
"Definitely." Decker smoothed his mustache, chewing on the
ends. It was the one part of his body where his hair was
still predominantly red as opposed to gray. "On the other
hand, it's not just a murder. There's a missing girl."
Decker filled in some of the blanks to the story, watching
his wife grow paler by the moment. "The girl might have
been a hidden witness to the murder. Or maybe she escaped
before the whole thing happened. That would be the most
favorable outcome."
No one spoke. Decker rubbed his forehead. "Dinner's
ready," Rina said softly. "Can you eat?" "Not a problem.
What do I tell Jonathan?" "It's up to you, sweetheart."
She sat down next to him. "I love you." "Love you, too."
He looked at the ceiling. "I suppose I could hunt around
for a few days. By then maybe she'll turn up... one way or
the other." He faced his wife and kissed her cheek. "How
many miles do we have?"
"Actually, I have enough for you to fly free.
Interestingly enough, I also have a companion ticket for
Hannah and me if we do a Saturday-night stayover." She
patted his hand. "And we do have two sons back East—"
"Just hold on!" Decker interrupted. "My flying is one
thing. You and Hannah are quite another thing." "I haven't
seen the boys in a while," Rina told him. "I'd much rather
fly with you than by myself." She patted his
cheek. "You're a tough guy."
"Real tough." It had been a while since they had seen the
boys. "You'd like to come with me?" "Yes, I would love to
come with you." Decker thought a moment. "I have a
condition. Promise me you won't get involved."
"Good heavens, why would I do that! I wouldn't dare take
any chances as long as Hannah's with me." She gave him a
swat on his backside. "Go call back Jonathan. I'll make
the reservations on the other line."
With great reluctance, Decker called back his half
brother. After working out a few more details, he walked
into the kitchen, where Rina had just hung up on the land
phone. "Jonathan wants to know when we think we'll be
arriving." "I've booked us on the red-eye."
"When?" "Tonight—" "Tonight?"
"It's Thursday, Peter. If we don't take the red-eye, we
won't be able to leave until Saturday night, because I
won't fly on Friday in case of delays. Too close to
Shabbos. Besides, I figured you'd want maximum time out
there."
"Well, then, I'm going to have to start making phone
calls." Rina could overhear Jonathan telling him to forget
it if it was too hard. Decker interrupted him. "We'll be
there around six in the morning."
"Give me the flight number," Jonathan said. "I'll be
there. Even though it's been eight years, you won't have
any trouble recognizing me. I'll be the one with the
sheepish look on my face."
Decker pushed his seat tray up in the locked
position. "Why do I have to use up my vacation time doing
this?" "Because you're a caring person?" Rina tried
out. "No, it's because I'm an idiot," he snarled as he
moved about in his seat, trying to get his long legs
comfortable. Flying under the best of circumstances was
now an ordeal. And this certainly wasn't the best of
circumstances. "I despise molestation cases—"
"Can you keep your voice down?" Decker glanced around.
People were staring at him. Rina whispered, "You don't
know it's that." "Yes, I do know. The uncle was a
sleazeball—" "Peter, please!" Rina pointed to Hannah.
"She's sleeping." "She still hears things." "I'm
resentful." "I know that. I am, too." Decker looked at
her. "You are?"
"Yes, I am. People take advantage of me because I'm such a
softy. I'd like to say no, but then I'd feel bad about it.
What can I do? It's the way I am. I was born with
a 'sucker' gene." "You and me both, darling." Decker made
a face. "We'll give it a few days. In the meantime, we'll
see the boys. That's not so bad." "No, that's the good
part. Sammy's no problem because he's in the city. Yonkie
has a bit more arranging to do, but he swears he'll be
with us for the weekend."
"You're excited." "Of course. So are their grandparents.
They're beside themselves with joy."
Rina's late husband's parents. Not his family. What the
heck? They were nice people who had endured a horrible
loss. "At least I'm making someone happy."
Rina patted his hand. "Being with you, Peter. That's the
good part, too." "You have this way of dissipating my
anger." "Then why do you look so sour?"
"But sometimes I like being angry. You're robbing me of
one of my few pleasures."
"Don't worry," Rina told him. "After dealing with New York
City traffic, Jonathan's family, my family, and Jews in
general, I'm sure you'll have plenty to be angry about."
Copyright © 2002 by Faye Kellerman