Don’t say anything.
Her lips formed an open smile when he pulled in the driveway next to the house.
Take a deep breath.
As he got out of the car, he tried to smile back. He feared that it came out forced, like a smile after a Lidocaine shot from the dentist.
“Welcome.” Rina handed him the coffee mug. “It’s got cream in it. You want me to give you a fresh black cup?”
Decker took a sip. “No, this is great, thank you.” He brushed his lips against hers. “How was dinner?”
“Everyone says hello. I saved you some rack of lamb.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of cottage cheese and fruit, but lamb doesn’t sound half bad. Do you have the hot plate on?”
“I do. Want me to warm it up for you?”
Decker put his arm around his wife as they walked to the front door. “Sure. Live dangerously, I say.”
“With or without home fries?”
“The works.” They went inside the house, Decker following Rina into the kitchen. “You know when Randy and I were in high school, Mom always made us eggs, potatoes, and sausage for breakfast.
As long as I drink orange juice, I’ll just say it’s a variation of what I used to eat as a kid.”
“There you go.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to shower first. I smell like I’ve been around dead bodies.”
“Dead bodies-as in more than one?”
“Just one.”
“One is enough.” She took the lamb out of the refrigerator and put it on the hot plate. “One is too much. Did you have an identity?”
“We think it’s Denny Orlando, one of the two missing guards.”
“Oh my. That’s so sad.” She searched in the fridge to find the home fries among the containers of leftover food. “What about the other one?”
“Rondo Martin. He’s still missing. We checked every inch down there and didn’t find any sign of him. Let me clean up and get dressed. We’ll have breakfast together, and then we’ll go to shul.”
Rina turned to him, perplexed. “You want to go to shul?”
“I need some godliness in my life right now.”
“Then I’ll go with you. I’ll wake up Hannah and see if she wants to come with us. It’s still pretty early. I’ll give her a little more time.”
“Let her sleep. She doesn’t have to go just because we’re going.”
“Ordinarily she probably wouldn’t, but she’s meeting Aviva for lunch. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Peter?”
“Absolutely. Isn’t there a guest rabbi this week?”
“There is.” Rina lifted her dark eyebrows. “I’ve heard he’s kind of long-winded.”
“The longer the better. As soon as he opens his mouth, I’ll be asleep.”
ABSENCE MAKES THE heart grow fonder…or at least more talkative. On the mile walk to synagogue, Hannah informed her father of every single detail of her life for the past week. This friend and that friend and after a while, Decker’s mind went to autopilot with well-placed uh-huhs whenever his daughter took a breath. Although the content was inane, her voice was music. He didn’t care what she talked about as long as she was talking to him. When they approached the storefront house of worship, she gave Decker a quick peck on the cheek, then ran off with her friend before he could say an official good-bye. He watched the two girls embrace as if they were long-lost relatives. He was more than a little jealous.
Rina said, “It’s amazing.”
“What is?” Decker said.
“At no point during the diatribe did she realize that you were sleeping with your eyes open.”
“I heard every word.”
“You heard it like you heard the birds chirping.” Rina kissed his cheek. “You’re a wonderful father. Don’t snore. I’ll see you later.”
The speech lasted for nearly an hour, allowing Decker a terrific catnap. When he was nudged in the ribs by Barry Gold after the sermon was over, he was actually able to stand up and concentrate on the Mussaf prayers. In honor of the guest rabbi, there was a kid-dush. Most of the parishioners were grumbling about the length of the address, but not Decker.
“Best sermon I ever slept to,” he told Rina as he ate a small Styrofoam cup’s worth of chulent-the traditional meat and bean stew provided gratis after services.
“Lucky you.” Rina popped a grape into her mouth. “The Millers just extended a last-minute invitation for lunch. I excused us on the grounds of your exhaustion.”
“That’s a fact. You ready to go?”
“I am.”
As soon as they left the synagogue, Decker felt his heart race, his thoughts interlaced with anxiety.
The two of them walked home hand in hand. He knew he should be making small talk, but his mind was elsewhere.
How do I bring this up? Before or after lunch? Before I sleep or after I sleep?
When they reached home, Decker had yet to figure out a game plan. He supposed the best way to approach the subject was with honesty. “Can I help you set up for lunch?”
“Are you hungry after eating all that lamb and chulent?”
“Not really, but you may be hungry.”
“I’m still dairy. I’d be fine with a yogurt and a cup of coffee.” She patted his hand. “Should I tuck you in?”
Decker plunked himself down on the couch. “I need to talk to you for a few minutes.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Nothing bad.” He patted the cushion next to him for her to take a seat. “Just a few minutes.”
“Sure.” She snuggled next to him. “What’s up?”
Decker took in a deep breath, then exhaled. “Okay…here’s the deal. Yesterday around three in the afternoon, I got a visitor at the station house. He said he might have some relevant information about the Kaffey murders. Every time we get a tip, we have to take it seriously-even if it’s from Aunt Edna who channeled the information from Mars. Sometimes substance is buried in the lunacy.”
“I understand. What are you getting at, sweetie?”
“The tipster said he overheard a conversation between two men speaking in Spanish. He related this conversation to me and in it were some names that no outsider should have been aware of. So I’m listening pretty carefully.”
“Okay.”
“So he’s telling me about this conversation between two Hispanic men, but there’s a problem. The tipster can only hear them. He can’t describe the men to me because he’s blind.”
“I could see where that would be a problem,” Rina said.
“But he’s aware that he might have overheard something important. So he asks a woman next to him to describe the men across the way. She asks him why and he won’t say. She persists and he feels a little foolish, so he drops the issue. But later, he can’t get the conversation out of his mind, so he comes to the station house.”
“This is sounding a little familiar.”
“A little?”
“More than a little.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Rina said, “I don’t know the guy’s name. He works as a translator for the courts. He’s in his thirties-curlyish hair, long face, dresses pretty sharp.”
“His name is Brett Harriman.”
“How did he find out my name?”
“He didn’t. He recognized your voice from the voir dire and said you were impaneled on one of his cases. He remembered you telling the judge that you were married to a police lieutenant. I filled in the blanks and hoped I was wrong.”
“You’re not.”
Decker leaned back and ran his hands down his face. “Did you get a peek at the men, Rina?”
“I looked at the two Hispanic men that I thought he was referring to.”
“A good look?”
“A decent look. He told me to be discreet.”
“He did?”
“Yes, he specifically told me not to stare, so I didn’t.”
Decker exhaled. “Thank you, Brett. Did they notice you?”
“Probably not. So these two men are involved?”
“It sounds like they had inside information. So you don’t think they noticed you?”
“I doubt it. It was right before the afternoon session began and there were lots of people milling around the hallways.” Rina paused. “Would you like a description of the men?”