Stone Kiss (19 page)

“No, Mr. Donatti, I’m a grown woman, and I choose to take care of my own problems. I have found in the past that involving
the lieutenant makes matters worse.”

He sat back and stared at her. “Does your silence extend to this little tryst?”

She met his eyes. “It isn’t a tryst. On the off chance that you may actually help my husband out, perhaps it’s best if I don’t
tell him. Because if I did tell him, he’d probably kill you.”

“If I didn’t get to him first.”

“If you had wanted to do that, you would have done it a long time ago.”

“Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

“Still, I have no intention of telling my husband about our little chat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m not asking anything.”

“Okay. Then I’ll ask something of you. It would make my life easier if you didn’t tell him about it, either. Because if he
hears about it from you, he’ll not only be irate with you, he’ll get mad at me for not telling him. Can you do me this favor?”

“I like doing favors.” Donatti smiled. “We’ll keep it our little secret.”

Turning everything into an act of intimacy. A prime-time manipulator. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Donatti stood up and leered at her. “Hey, why spoil what could be a beautiful relationship?”

“We have no relationship, Christopher.”

“Not you and me, Mrs. Decker. The lieutenant and me.” Donatti handed her his empty coffee cup. “There’s a recycle bin over
there. Toss that for me, please?”

“Not a problem.”

Again he gave her a hard, wolfish stare. “Maybe we’ll
chat
again someday.”

Rina raised her eyes to censure his. “And maybe pigs will fly.”

Donatti broke into laughter. “Mind if I give Terry your phone number, Mrs. Decker? If she’s gonna play chess with the big
boys, she may as well learn from an expert.”

I
f anything seemed to fit
, it would have been a drug deal that went sour. But then why would Ephraim take Shayndie with him, putting her in danger?
Could the man have been that cowardly to use a young girl as a screen? And then there was Raisie, warning him that his investigation
could be endangering Shayndie. That told Decker that Chaim was sitting on something. He considered calling up Novack, going
over some ideas with the detective. But what if Raisie were right? If his probing lessened Shayndie’s chances even fractionally—well,
then, what choice did he really have?

Maybe the girl had gotten away and was in hiding. Maybe she had contacted her parents but was tentative about coming home.
Or maybe there was another reason for her disappearance. Maybe she was pregnant and the whole thing about her being with her
uncle was just an alibi. Maybe she was holed up in some home for wayward girls, and maybe Chaim didn’t want Decker finding
that out.

Maybe Decker’s imagination was swirling out of control.

Drug dealers usually like to prove a point. Yet this time the kill was done at the hotel, with no evidence of torture.

Clean hit. Donatti’s M.O.

The plane was due to take off tomorrow night at six. By then, it would no longer be Decker’s business. Perhaps he should start
having a good time right now. He was taking the entire family out to a very popular kosher steak house, and then afterward,
he and Rina
would go hear the Harley Mann Quintet at one of the hotels. Initially, Rina felt squeamish about going. How could she go out
and have a good time when the Liebers were suffering?

“If being miserable would help them, I’d agree with you. But right now, the best thing we can do for us—you and me—is to try
to appreciate our own lives and have a little fun,” Decker argued.

Rina certainly had no comeback for that. Maybe a couple of glasses of wine would put her in a festive mood. At this point,
he felt as if he could drink an entire bottle by himself.

He was supposed to meet the crew at six. He arrived twenty minutes early. At five to the hour, Decker spied three-quarters
of his progeny—Sammy, Jacob, and Hannah—walking up the street. Two good-looking young men and a squirt—all of them with their
entire lives ahead of them. God, just let them be well. Decker felt that instant jolt of parental alarm but quelled it. Then
he gave himself a psychic pat on the back for a job well done.

Hannah skipped over to him and took his hand. She was wearing a denim skirt and a green sweater, her red curls bouncing over
her shoulders. “Where’s Eema?”

“She’s meeting us here.” Decker bent down and kissed the top of her head. “How was the museum?”

“Very good,” she replied. “I liked the whale.”

“The whale was cool.” Jacob was rolling a carry-on bag. “Very big.”

“We also took her to the old Hayden Planetarium,” Sammy said.

“Sounds like a busy day,” Decker said.

“Yeah, my feet are tired,” Sammy complained. “Can we sit down?”

“Let’s give Eema a few more minutes, okay?” Decker suggested.

The kids weren’t happy with the suggestion, but, for a change, no one argued. The boys were dressed similarly—dark sweaters
and jeans. Jacob had on a thick denim jacket; Sammy wore a nappy, flannel plaid shirt that subbed as an overcoat.

“How’s it going?” Sammy asked his father.

“Well, this is certainly the highlight of the trip,” Decker said.

“That good, huh?”

“It’s good to see you guys.”

“There’s Eema,” Jacob announced. “At least, I think that’s her. She’s sort of buried underneath all that cargo.”

“What’d she do?” Sammy asked. “Buy out the store?”

“Lord only knows.” Decker sighed. “Why don’t you two go help her?”

“I don’t know, Dad,” Sammy said. “I think she has a certain balance. Far be it from me to disrupt what might have taken five
hours to build.”

Decker glared at him. The boys hurried over to their mother and relieved her of the packages. She gave half to Jacob, half
to Sammy. “You’ll take these back for me?”

“I’m not going back to Brooklyn,” Jacob said. “I’ve got a train to catch, Eema.”

“I’ll take them back,” Sammy said.

“The good son,” Jacob countered.

They stopped at the entrance to the restaurant. Jacob smiled at his mother. “Buy anything for me?”

“A couple of shirts,” Rina said. “Most of it is for Hannah.”

“Great.” Jacob pouted. “First you send me to a school that locks me up in a cell and scalps me. Then all I get is a couple
of shirts.”

“Such neglect.” Rina threw her arm around her younger son and kissed him ten times on the cheek.

“How about me?” Sammy asked.

Rina kissed him as well. When she reached over for Hannah, the girl pulled away. “Not in public.”

Both she and Decker laughed. It was hard to tell the babies from the adults without a scorecard. Rina said, “I think you both
grew.”

“You just saw me yesterday,” Jacob said.

“You grew from yesterday,” Rina said. “Shall we go inside and eat?”

“Yeah, it’s better than being dysfunctional out here for the whole world to see,” Sammy said.

Jacob added, “Besides, this is the best food we’re going to have in the next six months.”

Sammy said, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Go in and get our table, boys,” Decker said. “Take Hannah with you. I need to talk to your mother for a moment.”

“Do I really have to carry all this stuff?” Sammy held the bags aloft. “Can’t we just check it in at a bank vault or something?”

“Go now, please!” Decker toughened his voice.

“Uh-oh…” Jacob took his sister’s hand. “We don’t want to hear this.”

Decker waited until the two of them were alone. He said, “You’re going to make fun of me, but I’d like to stay another day.
They’re releasing the body tomorrow, which means the funeral will be on Tuesday. I think we should go.”

And Decker’s last conversation with Donatti had been promising. He was hoping that Chris might come through with something.

Rina said, “Far from making fun of you—although it is tempting—I admire your flexibility and your compassion. It shows what
a true man you are. I will, once again, change the tickets.” She threw her arms around Decker’s neck and kissed him hard on
the mouth. “It’s not religiously modest, but it is heartfelt.”

“I like that!” Decker said. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Just for being you. Now, we should go inside so the kids don’t think we’re fighting.”

It took them ten minutes to be seated. The tables were so close to one another that Decker could have lap-danced with his
neighbor’s Cornish hen. With all the packages and Jacob’s valise, they were as tight as pack animals. The tables were covered
with red-checkered paper and there was sawdust on the floor. It was loud and noisy and smoky, but boy did it smell good.

It took another five minutes to get menus from a waiter wearing a blue denim shirt, white jeans, and sneakers. All the servers
were dressed alike. They scuttled and scurried as if their job consisted of aerobic exercise. Another five minutes produced
five glasses of ice water and bread and margarine.

Next everyone got up to ritually wash so they could break bread.

The bread was gone five minutes later.

They had been in the restaurant for a half hour, and all they had to show for it were crumbs and ice cubes. Prison could have
done just as well.

“Hey, Sammy,” someone called out.

Sammy turned around. “Ari!” He got up and talked to Ari for five minutes. He made introductions. Rina and Decker smiled. Hello,
hello. Ari left; then a busboy came, holding more bread. He took orders for drinks, then left.

Rina asked Decker, “How hungry are you?”

“I was hungry when I started out. Now I’m ravenous. And
no
, I don’t want to split anything.”

“Boy, someone’s blood sugar has taken a nosedive,” Sammy said.

“Eat the bread,” Rina offered.

“I don’t want bread!” Decker groused. “I want meat!”

The waiter finally came back, pad in hand. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for forty minutes—”

“Peter—”

“Chateaubriand for two for one,” Decker ordered.

“It’s big,” the waiter remarked.

“So am I.” He handed the waiter the menu.

The boys decided to split the Chateaubriand. Rina chose the rib steak. Hannah ordered a hot dog and fries. Jacob heard his
name called out, then turned around.

“Reuven! What are you doing here?”

“Probably the same thing you’re doing here,” Reuven answered. “Bumming a meal off my parents. These are your parents?”

Jacob said, “These are my parents.”

Reuven smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Lazarus.”

“Actually, it’s Mr. Decker,” Decker answered. “I’m his stepfather.”

“Yeah, but he pays all the college tuition, so that qualifies him as a dad,” Sammy answered.

Reuven’s father broke into laughter. He offered his hand to Decker. “Shragy Miller.”

“It’s Rav Miller,” Jacob told him.

Decker shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Rav Miller.”

“Shragy, please! This is my wife, Rivka, my daughter, Rachel.”

Miller was squat, dressed in rabbinic black. His wife was tall and bone thin, and was wearing a
shaytl
. Her features were as pinched as her husband’s were round. The daughter’s face had combined the best of her parents—regular
features, sparkling hazel eyes, and hair
the color of chestnuts. She was very pretty, and Decker wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Sammy had made eye contact with
her. Now he was looking at his napkin.

The adjacent table had just opened up. The obvious thing to do was invite them to sit down. Rina did exactly that. She introduced
herself to Rivka, and after a few disorganized minutes, everyone was seated. The girl actually managed to speak with Sammy
without looking at him. A pretty neat trick; Decker supposed that she had learned it in Being
Frum
101.

She asked, “So where do you go to school?”

“One guess.”

“YU.”

“So what else is new?”

“YU and Columbia,” Jacob added.

“Ah,” Rachel said. “One step above the riffraff.”

“I am the riffraff,” Sammy said. “YU was a little weak in my major, so they let me do a joint program.”

“What’s your major?”

“Neuropsychophysiology…premed. But I didn’t want to take the YU premed major. I actually wanted a real major.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to do that with Stern, but I’m getting a little resistance.” There was tightness in her voice. “I don’t
suppose you had problems, being
male
and all.”

Sammy was quick with the comeback. “I’m sure some of the older rabbis at Stern have some antiquated notions of what girls
can and can’t do.”

“If you come from a black-hat religious family, they have definite ideas.”

“You have to know where to finagle.”

“Any pointers?”

“A few if you want them.”

“That would be nice.”

Rina said, “You know, kids, why don’t you all sit on one side, and let us sit on the other side?”

Another several minutes of reorganization; this time, Rachel and Sammy sat next to one another.

“Lucky me,” Rav Miller announced. “I get to sit next to this
motek
.”

“Say hello, Hannah,” Decker said.

“Hello.”

“And what are you learning in school?” the rabbi asked.

“Right now, the
dinim
of Pesach. And the Haggadah of course.”

“And what can you tell me about the Haggadah?”

“I know that
Hashem
had to take the Jews out of Egypt very fast.”

“Yes, and why is that?”

“Because the Jews were so bad that if
Hashem
didn’t take them out real fast, they would have been stuck in the lowest level of
Tumah
—sin. That’s why
Hashem
took them out after two hundred ten years and not four hundred years.”

Everyone burst into laughter. Rina blushed. “I think the
rav
was referring to taking the Jews out quickly before
Paroah
changed his mind about letting the Jews go.”

“Oh,” Hannah said. “Yeah, that too.”