Hangman

AS LONG AS Decker was in the city—about twenty miles from his front door—Rina made reservations to meet for dinner at one of the many kosher restaurants along Pico Boulevard. They left her parents’ house at six, and a half hour later, they were in a booth, sipping glasses of Côtes du Rhône. Although Peter wasn’t a big talker, tonight he seemed unusually subdued, so Rina was happy to carry on the bulk of the conversation. Maybe Peter was hungry. She figured he’d join in when the mood hit. But even after polishing off his rib steak, fries, and salad, he remained quiet.

“What’s going on inside that cranium of yours?” Rina finally asked.

“Nothing.” “I don’t believe you.”

“See, that’s where you females mess up. Whenever we men don’t talk, you ascribe it to some deep inner meditation we’re having with ourselves. In my case, I was thinking about dessert—whether it was worth the calories.”

“If you’d like, we can split something.”

“Which means I eat ninety percent.”

“How about we forgo the desert and just have some coffee. You look a little beat.”

“Do I?” Decker stroked his red-and-gray mustache as if he was thinking of something profound. While his facial hair still retained some of its youthful, fiery color, his head hair was more white than orange, but there was still plenty of it.

He smiled at his wife. Rina had changed to a deep purple satin dress that she kept in her mother’s closet. Although she was way too religious to ever show cleavage, the neckline did accentuate her lovely throat. He had given her a pair of two-carat diamond studs for her forty-fifth birthday and she wore them every chance she got. He loved to see her in expensive things, even though with his paycheck, that didn’t happen very often. “I guess I am a little tired.”

“Then let’s just go home.”

“No, no. I could use a cup of coffee.”

“Okay.” Rina touched his hands. “You’re not just tired, you’re bothered. What happened this afternoon?”

“I told you. Everything went smoothly.”

“And yet you remain perplexed.”

Decker chose his words. “When she talked to him…she appeared confident…clearly in control.”

“Maybe she was with you around.”

“I’m sure there was some of that. And he was contrite, so she had a certain amount of free rein. I don’t know, Rina. She was bossy almost. When they had lunch, she did most of the talking.”

“You could hear them?”

“I could see them. She clearly dominated their conversation.”

“Maybe when she gets nervous, she talks.”

“Could be. Before we met him for lunch, we spoke a few minutes. All of a sudden she started shaking and broke out in a cold sweat.”

“So there you go.”

“But there was something else, Rina. If I didn’t know any of the backstories, I would have sworn she was acting flirtatious at lunch—downright sexy. Something was strange.”

“What’s so strange? She likes him.”

“He beat her up six weeks ago.”

“She knows what he is and there’s still something about him that she finds attractive. She makes poor choices. That’s what got her into the situation to begin with. No one told her that she had to visit him in jail and have sex with him without birth control.”

“She’s not a stupid girl, Rina. She’s a conscientious mother and she’s an emergency care physician.”

“Like all of us, she has positive aspects and some blind spots. In Terry’s case, her weaknesses are harmful.” She leaned forward. “But like I said this morning, Peter, this isn’t our problem. You were hired help. She paid you money and you did your job. How about letting go?”

“You’re right.” Decker sat up and kissed her hand. “We’re out to dinner and you deserve a noncomatose husband.”

“How about some coffee now?”

“Coffee would be great!” Decker grinned. “I’d even go for dessert.”

“How about the peach pie?”

“Peach pie, it is. Dare we order it with vanilla ice cream or whatever frozen concoction they make up to simulate the real deal?”

Rina smiled. “Sure, let’s go crazy.”

THE CELL PHONE went off just as the car had crested the 405 freeway and began to dip into the San Fernando Valley. Mountains on either side made reception spotty. Since Decker was driving, Rina took the phone from his coat pocket.

“If it’s Hannah, tell her we’ll be home in about twenty minutes.”

“It’s not Hannah. I don’t recognize the number.” She depressed the on button. “Hello?”

There was silence on the other side. For a moment Rina thought she lost the party, but then she saw that the phone hadn’t disconnected.

“Hello?” she tried again. “Can I help you?”

“Who is it?” Decker asked. When she shrugged, he said, “Just hang up.”

“Sorry.” The voice was male. He cleared his throat. “I’m looking for Lieutenant Decker.”

“This is his cell phone. Whom am I talking to?”

“Gabe Whitman.”

It took all of Rina’s effort not to gasp. “Is everything all right?”

“Who are you talking to?” Decker asked.

“No,” Gabe said over the phone. “I mean I don’t know.”

“Who is it, Rina?” Decker said.

“Gabe Whitman.”

“Oh Lord! Tell him to hold on.”

“He’ll be right with you,” Rina said.