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“Really. That’s great!”

“Hannah was very proud, although I’m not surprised. The kid could debate her way to the Supreme Court.”

“Ain’t that the truth? Have you spoken to Cindy and Koby?”

“They’re doing fine.”

“How’s the construction going?”

“Quote, unquote-Mike is a godsend. If you’re going to be conscious this weekend, I’ll have them over for Shabbos.”

“That would be wonderful. To prove my gratitude, I’ll make ribs.”

“Yum, but don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” He finished off his sandwich. “This really hit the spot.” Rina knew him very well. She had made him a second one without even asking. Sheepishly, he picked it up. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Food always tastes better when you’re hungry. I take it the case is going well?”

“Not perfect, but good enough.” He gave her the salient details, leaving out the gory parts.

“Do you have enough to get it past the grand jury?” Rina asked.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure of that.”

“And you believe that the wife wasn’t there when it happened?”

“I do.”

“So where does that leave you in the case against Raymond Holmes?”

“You mean what do we have against him?”

Rina nodded.

“We have a signed statement given by Holmes’s father. In it, Ray told his father that he pushed Beth, and that’s how she died. Unfortunately, the father is now backtracking, claiming his memory is fuzzy. He’s now saying that it could have been Manny who pushed Beth and being that the guy is close to eighty, maybe he was confused.”

“And what do you think?”

“First of all, Beth didn’t die by hitting the back of her head against a wall. She died because someone bashed in her head with a blunt object. According to Lindie, there was spatter everywhere.”

“Ugh!”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I should be used to it by now. So who do you think hit Beth Devargas?”

“Not that my opinion matters in a court of law, but I know it was Raymond Holmes. Manny wasn’t described as being violent or having a hair-trigger temper. By the accounts of those who knew him, he was a pretty decent guy who smoked a lot of weed and ate a lot of food. I think after Ray killed Beth, Manny couldn’t bring himself to turn in his brother.”

“Or maybe he was frightened of his brother.”

“Could be, but I don’t think so. According to Lindie, after Beth was murdered, Manny took over. Lindie described Manny as being very calm, probably more shock than anything else. After it wore off and Manny realized that he had buried his murdered wife, I think the boy was overcome with guilt. He had lost everything-his father, his brother, his wife. He was despondent. He drank himself into a fatal bar fight: his own brand of suicide.”

“Poor man. Trapped by being born into the wrong family.”

“Still, people make bad choices,” Decker told her. “He should have known his brother was bad news.”

“At least Manny was related to Ray. They had a history together. What was Lindie Holmes’s excuse?”

“Just plain dumbness.”

“And you really don’t think she was involved in the murder?”

“Not in the murder, no, but she did help Ray or Belize clean up the mess after Beth was killed. She also helped bury her brother-in-law in the desert.”

“So you’ll charge her with what? Tampering with evidence?”

“Exactly.”

“Suspended sentence.”

“Two for two.”

“And what about Roseanne Dresden? Do you think Holmes had anything to do with her disappearance?”

“That’s an open question.” Decker told her about the disposed carpet mats that shone blue with blood protein after being sprayed with luminol. “I haven’t ruled out Holmes, especially considering who he is, but he’s down on the list. After his arrest, we got access to his credit cards. I turned up a receipt with his signature on it, putting Holmes in San Jose at ten-fifteen on the morning of the crash.”

“You found him an alibi.”

“I did. There is no way Holmes could have murdered Roseanne that morning, disposed of the body, and then hopped a plane back to San Jose and signed that receipt at ten-fifteen on that same morning.”

“Could Holmes have hired someone?”

“The next question, and it’s a very good question. So far we don’t have any evidence that proves or disproves that theory.”

“So that brings you back to Ivan,” Rina said. “All that blood on the car mats…and Ivan took in the car to be completely reupholstered. There’s a logical connection.”

“Logic doesn’t always enter into the picture, but we do what we can.” He looked at his wristwatch. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

“That’s never.” He stood up. “But tuition is expensive and I’ve got to make a buck, though Lord knows there are easier ways.”

“But you love your job,” Rina said.

“Sometimes,” Decker admitted. “It’s rewarding when you solve some perplexing cases and put away some real bad people. But most of the time, the work is a lot of drudgery and just plain sad.”

MARGE WAS WAITING for him, a cup of coffee in her hand. “We’ve got news.”

She wasn’t smiling but she wasn’t frowning. He’d just have to wait for the verdict. Decker pulled out the key to his office. “It’s been that kind of week.” He opened the door. “Come in and tell me all about it.”

She handed him the coffee and stared at his ravaged face. “When was the last time you had some sleep?”

“A while back.”

“Go home, Decker,” Marge told him. “We can execute warrants without you.”

Oliver walked into the office and regarded Decker’s puffy face. “You need sleep, Loo.”

“I do, but as long as I’m here, you two might as well bring me up to speed. Then one of you has the privilege of taking me home.”

“I can do it,” Oliver said. “I’m ready to pack it in myself.”

“What happened to your car?” Marge asked.

“Rina drove me. I’m not alert enough to be behind a wheel.”

“Good call.” Oliver leaned against the wall and looked at Decker. “You want to go first?”

Decker sipped coffee. By now, his gut was on fire from all the acid, but being conscious took precedence over comfort. “I have a quick question, first, and then I want you two to tell me what’s going on. My question is: Are we still considering Raymond Holmes as a suspect in Roseanne Dresden’s murder?”

“Why?” Marge said. “Do you have anything new that would point us in that direction?”

“No, but I’ll add this. If Holmes did it, it would most likely have to be a murder for hire. A credit-card receipt puts him in San Jose at ten-fifteen on the morning of the crash. So I’m flinging the question back to you. Do you have any indication that he was involved?”

Oliver and Marge exchanged looks. Then she said, “I’ll repeat what you told me over the phone. It’s complicated.”

“This is not what I wanted to hear,” Decker said. “Okay, what do we know so far?”

“We are pretty sure that the Beemer was a kill spot,” Oliver said. “Forensics stripped off the new carpet, went down to the original metal, and sprayed it with luminol.”

“It lit up like blue fireworks,” Marge said. “There was a big pool of blue on the rear floor behind the driver’s seat, but there was also a lot of fluorescent spatter.”

“On the steering wheel, on the dash, on the gauges, on the gearshift, on the convertible roof, which wasn’t replaced, just cleaned.”

“There was a steady stream that fluoresced on the glove compartment. It looks like the initial spurt that might come from a stab wound that hit a major artery.”

Decker said, “Do we know if the blood is Roseanne’s?”

“Not yet,” Oliver said. “We called up Shareen Lodestone and asked her if she might have something that contains her daughter’s DNA, like an old hairbrush or an old toothbrush.”