Jonathan caught his brother staring out the window. “It’s New York’s Corn Belt.”
“I didn’t realize it was so rural.”
“Very rural. You should feel right at home.”
Decker laid on the accent. “Yeah, that there city is too durn big for my blood.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m teasing. Mellow out.”
“I’m edgy.” Jonathan clutched the steering wheel with his gloved hands, shivering as he drove. “I’ve never been shot at.”
“No one’s shooting at us now.”
“Baruch Hashem,” Jonathan intoned as he thanked God.
“Good thing, too, with only one bullet.” Decker held the snub-nose. “That’s all right. Guns can give you a false sense of security. Lack of ammo will make us think.”
“Any new theories?”
“No, I’m not holding back. Want me to drive for a little, Jon?”
“No, I’ll do it because at least I have some idea of where I’m going.”
Decker tried the cell again. Whereas before he got a momentary dial tone, this time he got nothing.
“The farther upstate, the less likely we are to get a connection,” Jonathan said.
“How far away are we in terms of time?”
“I’d say maybe twenty minutes.”
“How’s the gas gauge?”
“Steady. He didn’t hit the tank. And I filled up right when I got into Quinton. Gas isn’t the problem. We finished those bagels pretty quickly. Are you still hungry?”
Decker was stunned. “You have food?”
“Raisie packed me Danish before I left shiva. She figured that maybe I could use a nosh.”
“She figured right.”
“It’s all the way in the back.”
Decker unbuckled his belt. “Don’t get into an accident.”
“As long as no one snipes at us, that won’t be a problem.”
Climbing over the backseat, Decker went headfirst into the back of the van and extracted a large paper grocery bag. Sitting in the backseat, he pulled out an aluminum-wrapped bundle. Inside were a dozen assorted Danish. There were also several cans of Diet Coke, as if the sugar lacking in the soda compensated for the pounds of sugar in the baked goods. Using contortion and great skill, he wedged himself back into the front passenger’s seat. “I’ve got cheese, apple, chocolate, cherry… what is this?” He smelled it. “I think it’s mun-”
“Cheese.”
Decker handed him a pastry. He chose an apple turnover and downed it in three bites. “Should I pop the top on this soda can for you? This vehicle certainly has enough cup holders.”
“Please.”
He opened two cans of Diet Coke. “Your wife is very smart.”
“All Jewish women are smart when it comes to food.”
“Yeah, I can see Rina doing something like that.”
“Did you talk to her today?”
“Just in the morning. She’s probably worried about me. Turns out for good reason.”
They rode in contemplative quiet, Decker trying to figure out Chaim’s role in what appeared to be a sophisticated ecstasy ring. Mastermind? Unwitting abettor? Dupe?
“There it is,” Jonathan told him.
“I don’t see anything.”
“The turnoff. We’re about ten minutes away.”
As they drove, Decker felt a prickling on the back of his neck. Over the years, he had learned not to ignore intuitive pulses.
“Almost there,” Jonathan told him.
Jittery, Decker swept his eyes across the terrain. First he studied what was directly in front of him, then to the right, glancing at the side mirror. He turned around and scanned over his shoulder, along with a check in the rearview mirror, then left for the side mirror.
“We should be right on top of it,” Jonathan announced.
Off the roadway, Decker spotted several glints of chrome, but there were no lights up ahead. “Jon, pull over and stop.”
“What? Why?” But Jonathan followed instructions, rolling the van over a mud-coated field. “What’s wrong now?”
“Does Chaim’s warehouse have a parking lot?”
“Of course.”
“So why are these vehicles parked here, in a muddy field?” Decker pointed to a Jeep Cherokee and a Mitsubishi Montero.
“Maybe the lot was flooded.”
“Why don’t I think that’s the case?” Decker reached into the middle section of the van and dragged over the bags of clothing resting on the seats. There was a rain slicker for him and one for his brother. Then came the gloves. Lastly, he placed plastic bags around his shoes and tied them over his ankles, instructing Jonathan to do the same. When they were finished, he took the flashlight and opened the door. Not anxious to fall, he took his time getting over to the Cherokee. He tried the door, but it was locked. He shone the light through the side windows, his eyes meticulously observing what was inside.
Jonathan had caught up with him. “Anything interesting?”
“Young person’s car… at least the taste in music is young-my son’s age. I can tell by the CD covers on the floor.” Another pass of the beam through the interior. “Pills on the seat. See how they’re stamped-the hearts, that one with a ’toon on it? It’s ecstasy. Trash on the floor-beer bottles, cigarette butts…” He looked at his brother. “A couple of Quinton kids got arrested for bad behavior with ecstasy down in Miami-Philip Caldwell and Ryan Anderson. Betcha this baby belongs to one of them.”
He went over to the Montero and peered inside.
“Neat. This belongs to a different animal. A Dwight Yoakam CD cover… a pack of Camels… nothing much else.” He checked out the rear bumper. “A D.A.R.E. to Keep Kids off Drugs sticker. Well, well, well. We definitely know who we’re working with.”
“Merrin.”
“Someone in law enforcement.”
“Ironic,” Jonathan said. “I mean… if you think he’s selling ecstasy. And he has the sticker…”
“If I were back home, I could call in the plates. If I were back home, I could also call for backup.” Decker turned to his brother. “But I’m not back home. We should leave. If Chaim’s a willing partner in this, why should I risk my life to save him?”
“And what if he isn’t a willing partner?”
“Then he’s probably dead.”
“Or being questioned… questioned roughly…” The rabbi shuddered. “My wife lost one brother… I’d hate to think that we’ve come this far only to leave another one behind. But you know better.”
No one spoke.
Decker finally said, “Show me the warehouse.”
Jonathan took the flashlight and they walked toward the destination. Neither spoke as muck squished under their shoes. Five minutes later, the giant barn became visible because light was coming from a lower window. It was typical in structure-a large parabolic shape that peaked in a roof gable-but someone had modified it for its use as a warehouse. The great door and apron, traditionally used as a passageway to let the animals in and out, had been replaced by a set of double doors that led out to a concrete driveway and loading dock. On either side of the doors were windows stacked three stories high, the lower right window being the illuminated one. Above the great door should have been the sliding doors, but they had been boarded up. The hay doors on the upper level looked to be intact.
The rain was starting to pick up. Neither man appeared to notice.
“What does it look like inside?” Decker asked him.
“Shelves filled with boxes.”
“More than one level?”
Jonathan tried to re-create a mental image. Both he and Decker were whispering. “Most of it is on one level with very high shelving. Wide aisles because the guys use a forklift to bring the merchandise up and down. But there is a second level with shelves as well. It’s an open loft, I believe.”
“Probably the original hayloft.”