Peter Decker 2-Book Thriller Collection: Blindman’s Bluff, Hangman

The first was from Rina at 7:02. She was just about to light candles and wanted to wish him a good Shabbos. She loved him and hoped to see him soon. Her voice immediately put a smile on his face.

The second call was at 8:26 last night.

“Hi, Lieutenant Decker, it’s Brett Harriman. I don’t know why I didn’t mention this before … maybe I was too overwhelmed with everything to remember correctly. Anyway, I of course couldn’t see the men talking beside me, but I did ask a woman next to me to describe them as discreetly as possible. She kept asking me why and I didn’t want to tell her. I felt a little foolish, so I told her to forget about it. So she may have seen them and could give you a description.

“The problem is I don’t know her name, but I recognized her voice from the voir dire and I know she was impaneled on one of my cases.

“I don’t know if you can get the list of jurors from that case, but it’s worth a try. I’m sure she’ll remember me because we didn’t have a typical conversation. We can talk more about this if you want. Give me a call. Bye.”

Decker saved the call in the archives. Harriman was sounding a little like an attention seeker, feeding him information bit by bit. Or maybe he was after the reward. Before Decker returned the phone call, he’d check out Harriman’s credentials to ensure the man didn’t have a truth problem.

The last call came in at 10:38 last night.

“It’s Brett Harriman again. The woman that I told you about. I just remember that in the voir dire, she told the judge that she was married to a police lieutenant. Maybe she was trying to get out of jury duty, but they still impaneled her. I don’t think she mentioned LAPD, it could have been some other city, but how many wives of police lieutenants could there be who served on a jury panel in the last week? Could be you even know her. That’s it. Bye.”

The line disconnected.

Time passed in very slow increments.

Did she see them?

Did they see her?

It took a long time for Decker to throw the gear in drive and when he did, he noticed his hands were shaking.

13 (#ulink_728c1207-cb01-5ad6-92b6-e055b616c897)

He cursed Brett Harriman the entire ride home.

You couldn’t have asked someone else for a description? It had to be my wife?

Hypocritical of him because if it had been anyone else but Rina, he would have been making phone calls, trying to get that damn jury list.

Did he really think she was in danger? Be logical, he told himself.

First, the men couldn’t have been too concerned if they’d been talking about the Kaffey case openly. Second, maybe Rina didn’t give them anything beyond a quick glance. Third, even if they had been aware of her at the time, they’d probably forgotten about her since.

Damn it, Harriman.

As he rounded the corner, he saw his wife picking up the morning papers. She was wearing a robe and slippers and was holding a mug of coffee. Her hair was loose and flowed down her back, and his heart stopped in his chest.

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.