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Authors: Faye Kellerman

BOOK: Gun Games
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“Can I see the lieutenant?”

“He’s busy right now.”

“Please let me see him!”

Wanda’s heart went out to her. “Yes, you can see him, but first I need to call your mother.”

Reluctantly, Yasmine gave her the number.

The call was not an easy one. The woman fluctuated between gasping and screaming, demanding to talk to her daughter who refused to take the phone. After the conversation, Wanda noticed that her own head was throbbing.

Yasmine was still shaking. “Can I talk to the lieutenant now?”

Wanda said, “I’ll see if I can find—”

“Oh, please don’t leave me
alone
.”

“Okay, let’s go out together.”

Wanda helped her up and managed to flag down Decker. “She wants to talk to you, Lieutenant.”

“That’s fine, but take her back to the ladies’ lounge. I don’t want her seeing anyone else that we brought in.” Decker’s cell phone rang. “It’s Rina; I have to take this.”

Yasmine burst into tears. “I wanna see
Gabe
!”

To Rina, Decker said, “What’s going on?”

“I think I’m gonna faint,” Yasmine cried out.

Wanda eased her into a chair. “I need some juice ASAP!”

Decker ran to the refrigerator while holding the phone. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear well. It’s pandemonium down here. Can you shout?”

Rina said, “Gabe’s stabilized. He’s fine. He’s going into surgery in about an hour. He keeps on asking about Yasmine. He wants to talk to her. Can I have him call your phone and you can put her on?”

Decker looked around for Yasmine, but she was gone. “I think she went back to the bathroom. I’ll have her call Gabe’s cell when I see her.”

“He can’t use his cell phone in a hospital,” Rina told him. “That’s why I asked if he can call her before he goes into surgery. He keeps calling her cell, but she’s not answering.”

Decker took the carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. Scott Oliver was waving him over. Decker put out a finger to wait, then spotted Yasmine, sitting with her head between her legs. “Hold on, Rina, I found her.” He gave the carton and a paper cup to Wanda. “Do you have your cell phone, Yasmine?”

Slowly, she lifted her head up and checked her pockets. She pulled it out. “Here.”

“Drink,” Wanda told her. “Sip slowly.”

Yasmine complied. Decker said, “Gabe’s going to call you. You need to go with Detective Bontemps back to the ladies’ room. I’ll be there as soon as I can come.”

“When can I see Gabe?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Decker told her.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Wanda helped her up.

“I want to see
Gabe
!”

“He’s going into surgery, Yasmine. Go to the ladies’ lounge with Detective Bontemps, and he’ll call you, okay?”

The girl nodded, tears streaming down her check. She squeaked out, “Thank you for all your help.”

“You’re welcome, honey. I’m sorry I can’t do more right now.” He nodded to Wanda, who once again led her away.

To Rina, Decker said, “Yasmine has her phone. Tell Gabe he can call her.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

“Happy to help. I gotta run.” He hung up and walked over to Oliver. “Who’s your interview?”

“Kyle Kerkin.”

“Perfect. He’s the one over eighteen with the Glock, right?”

“Right. The Glock belongs to his father, but here’s the kicker. Dad reported it stolen eight months ago. So we’ve got a stolen weapons charge on top of the drug charges. Kyle is barely dog-paddling in the soup.”

“See if you can pull him under. Let’s find out who he blames when he goes down.”

Oliver said, “Kyle wants to talk to you, and he’s willing to do it without a lawyer.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, he asked for the lieutenant in charge. He’s just waiting to pop. We can’t blow this opportunity.”

“I can’t do any interviewing, Scott. I’ve got an obvious personal involvement.”

“He knows Gabe lives with you.”

“He does?” Decker was floored. “How?”

“Because Gabe told him that he lived with a police lieutenant.”

“He
did
?
When?

“I don’t know when, but he’s aware that Gabe has a foster dad who’s a cop.”

“There’s some background story that I missed,” Decker said. “Okay, let’s do this. You do the interviewing, you get his story, and I’ll sit in with you.”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Sooner is always better.”

Decker went over to Marge’s desk. She was hanging up on the phone call. “That was Darla Holbein’s mother. She’s furious but not at us. Darla will have some explaining to do.”

“Marge, I need someone to make up six-packs of the teens to show to Yasmine and Gabe for ID. Who’s free?”

“Drew Messing might be free,” Marge said. “He just finished with the Glock. It was stolen from Kyle Kerkin’s father eight months ago.”

“Yeah, Oliver just told me.”

“Messing’s writing up the report.”

“When he’s done with that, tell him to start on the photo arrays, okay?”

“Okay. How about if we do Dylan, Kyle, and Cameron first since they’re all over eighteen?”

“Good idea,” Decker said. “Do you have any recent pictures of them we can use? Maybe something from their yearbook?”

“I can probably get their pictures from Facebook. If not, I’ll do an image search.”

“Good. We’ll worry about the others later. Does Dylan have a last name?”

Marge smiled. “It’s Lashay.”

Decker would have smiled if he wasn’t so busy. “Okay. Take one of Lashay’s photo lineup to Yasmine and to Gabe before he goes into surgery.”

“When is he going into surgery?”

“In an hour.”

“That’ll be tight.” A pause. “Shouldn’t someone interview him?”

“Shit, you’re right.”

“I’ll do it once I’ve made the photo pack,” Marge said. “If Gabe and the girl make a positive ID, I’ll pull warrants for Lashay’s house and for his school locker. I’ll have Drew do the others.”

At that moment, a gorgeous, stick-thin woman with tied-up black hair stormed into the squad room, her stilettos clacking against the hard floor. Sohala Nourmand’s perfectly made-up face was a cross between fury and pure panic.

Decker said, “She’s fine, Mrs. Nour—”

“I want to see my daughter
now
!”

“I’ll take you to her—”

Sohala wagged her finger in Decker’s face. “I call my husband now. We go call our lawyer. You’ll hear from us very soon! Now where is my daughter so I can take her home?”

Decker tried to remain calm. “Neither you or your daughter are going anywhere—”

The woman was furious. “We are leaving now!”

“Mrs. Nourmand, your daughter may be in extreme danger and no matter how angry or scared you are, you are not going to compromise her safety! I think we both can agree on that.”

The woman was aghast. “She’s in extreme
danger
?”

“I don’t know how much you know, but from what I’ve managed to gather, she was kidnapped at gunpoint.” Decker was talking as fast as he could. “My foster son, who was with your daughter at the time, managed to get her away, but he was shot in the process. Gabriel will be undergoing surgery. We’re holding some people who may be responsible on attempted murder charges, but there’s a good chance at least some of them will make bail and I want to make sure your daughter is away and completely out of the picture if that should happen. So we need to strategize before you yank her out of her safety net and into this big, bad world.”

Sohala’s mouth had dropped open. Abruptly her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she began to sway. Then her knees buckled.

Decker and Marge caught her before she hit the ground.

Chapter Thirty-two

M
arge said, “Should I call an ambulance?”

“No, no, no,” Sohala whispered.

“Get her some water.” Decker took her pulse. It was slow but steady. “Would you like me to call your husband for you?”

“No!” Sohala moaned. “He has a weak heart.” Sohala’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Was my daughter . . . ?”

“No.” Decker assured her. “She wasn’t physically harmed at all.”

“You are positive?” she whispered.

Marge came back with the water. “Let me go make those photo packs before we lose our witnesses to surgery and Mom.”

“Good idea,” Decker told her.

Sohala sat up and sipped water. It took her a few minutes to find her voice. “Yasmine is okay?”

“She’s fine. You can go see her in a moment, but first just hear me out—”

“This is a bad dream. A nightmare . . . Do you say someone was shot?”

“My foster son, yes.”

“Dead God . . .” She regarded Decker. “Who is he?”

“His name is Gabriel Whitman,” Decker said. “He’s the boy who played piano at Hannah’s graduation. You met him at the deli about three months ago.”

“The tall white boy who goes to Harvard?”

“He got into Harvard. He’s living with us until he goes to college.”

“He is Jewish?”

“No.”


No?
Then why he was with my daughter?”

Decker just looked at her. She sat back in her chair and muttered something plaintive in Farsi. She wagged a finger at him. “I knew something was funny with that girl. She is a sneaky one, but this is too much!” She suddenly looked horrified. “And is he okay . . . your boy?”

“He’ll be fine, but it’s going to hurt for a while.”

“I am so sorry.” Tears were in her eyes. “I think I’m very confused.”

“It’s a lot to integrate,” Decker said.

“I am supposed to meet my daughter at the dressmaker in an hour. She is getting married.”

“To Aaron the doctor.”

“Yes. I have to call her. What do I tell her? I think I feel sick!”

“Take your time—”

“This is just too much. I cannot do everything.” She was in tears. “I am one person.”

“It’s a lot to absorb.” Decker was trying not to look at his watch.

“So what do you find out about my daughter?”

“Pardon me?”

“What happened to her this morning?” She sounded exasperated.

Decker said, “I’m still trying to put the pieces of this case together, and I’m needed urgently in an interview room. Can I talk about your daughter’s safety for a moment?”

“Oh God, I am in a panic!”

“Don’t panic, we need to stay calm, okay?”

“Okay.” She fanned her face with her hand. “But I still panic.”

“Mrs. Nourmand, I’d like Yasmine to stay out of the area until I have a better idea of what’s going on. Does she have a relative who lives nearby that she can stay with?”

The woman blanched. “It is that bad?”

“I don’t know,” Decker said. “Right now I’m just taking precautions.”

“My sister lives in Beverly Hills.”

“Can she stay with your sister for a little while?”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. Once I have a clearer picture, maybe I can give you a better idea.”

“She can stay with my sister, but what do I tell my husband? It is crazy just for her to move for no reason.”

“Then maybe you should think about telling him what’s going on.”

“But I don’t know what is going on. First, I need to know what’s going on. You say she was kidnapped with a gun; this is very serious. You make me panic again.”

“That’s why I’d like your daughter to stay with your sister.”

“That is not a problem. I just think what do I tell my husband. I cannot tell him truth right away. He’ll get mad at her, he’ll get very scared for her. His heart is not so good for a shock.”

“I’m sure you can phrase it in a delicate way, ma’am.”

Sohala exhaled. “So your boy and my daughter have been . . .”

“I think they’ve been seeing each other for a while.”

“How bad?”

“How bad?”

“You know . . . what do they do?”

“I don’t know.” Decker shrugged. “How serious can two teenagers be?”

“It cannot be serious, but it can be bad.” She was quiet. “My daughter is very naive. I hope he does not take advantage of her.”

Decker tried not to bristle. “Gabriel’s a good boy.”

“He can be good boy, but he is still boy.” She shook her head. “This is terrible. Okay. I got it. I tell my husband that Yasmine wants to try out YULA. Last year, she did want to try it out, but I say no. I say it’s too far from home. Now I kick myself for not listening. It is all girls. I think after what’s going on, that is good idea.”

Marge walked over to Decker and handed him two photo arrays—one with Dylan Lashay in the number four position, and another with Cameron Cole in the number three position. “Are these okay?”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll take a set to Wanda to show Yasmine. Then I’m off to the hospital. I just talked to Rina. They’ve postponed Gabe’s surgery for another couple of hours because they’re trying to find a specific surgeon who can remove the bullet without cutting too much muscle. He hasn’t even been sedated yet, so I want to talk to him pronto.”

“Go.”

Marge turned to Mrs. Nourmand. “I’m glad everything worked out with your daughter.”

She said, “Thank you for your wishes.”

After Marge left, Decker said, “I’ll take you to see Yasmine—”

“I really am sorry about the boy.” Her eyes watered up. “It is terrible.”

“As one parent to another, I appreciate your sympathy.”

“What about the boy? After he gets out of the hospital, he stay here?”

“You mean with me?” Decker raised his eyebrows. “I’m concerned for him as well. Once Gabe is well enough, I’ll probably send him to his father’s.”

“Where does his father live?”

“In Nevada.”

“That is very good.” She regarded Decker. “I have nothing bad against Gabe, but it can’t go on.” She sighed. “How much already go on? That is the question.”

“I didn’t even know Gabe was seeing your daughter until I picked them up this morning.”

“You pick them up this morning?”

“Gabe called me and said they were in trouble. I came down and got them.”

“So I say thank you.” She welled up with tears again but tried to hide it. “I want to see her . . . my daughter.”

Decker said, “Good idea, Mrs. Nourmand. She knows a lot more about what happened than I do.”

Y
asmine’s trembling finger pointed to position number four. Her eyes moistened. “This one.”

Wanda said, “Are you sure?”

Yasmine nodded as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her voice was very small. “I’m positive.”

“Could you circle your choice with this pen?” Marge asked her.

Yasmine complied, the circle wobbly because her hands were shaking so forcefully. Marge brought out the second set. “What about this group of girls? Does anyone look familiar?”

Yasmine gasped and pointed to Cameron Cole. “This one! She was
horrible
!”

“I’m so sorry, honey. Can you circle your choice for me again?”

Her voice rose in pitch. “She kept saying I was going to . . . to die.”

Marge placed the pen in her hand, and the girl managed another circle around Cameron Cole’s face. At that moment, Decker and Sohala Nourmand came through the door. Instantly Yasmine leaped into her mother’s waiting arms, clutching her with such force that her hands turned red. Her sobs were deep and frightening. Sohala started crying as well. She said, “You are okay?”

Yasmine nodded, her face buried in her mother’s bosom. “Mommy, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Marge said to Decker, “Positive ID for both. I’ll get Lee to pull warrants for the home and school. Right now, I’m off to the hospital. Do me a favor and let Oliver know what’s going on.”

“You bet. Remember to tell the surgeon to save the bullet for forensics.” Decker looked at Wanda. “Do you need anything?”

“Do you want me to conduct the interview here?”

“Everything else is occupied.”

“There’s no video camera.”

Decker said, “I’ll get you a tape recorder.” He hurried out of the room.

Yasmine sobbed. “I wanna go home!”

Wanda said, “Sweetheart, we have to ask you some questions—”

“Please, Mommy! I don’t want to talk anymore.” She was wailing. “I’m soooo sorry. I just wanna go home.”

To Wanda’s surprise, Sohala broke off the hug. “Yasmine, you have to tell the police what happened.”

“It was
horrible
—”

“So tell them.”

Decker returned with the tape recorder. He was glad to leave the hysteria to Wanda, who busied herself in setting up the equipment. Sohala tried to soothe the panicked teen. She took her daughter by the shoulders. “Yasmine, the boy got shot—”

“Oh God!” she cried out. “My poor Gabriel got hurt, and it’s all my
fault
!”

“Yasmine, I worry about
you.
Detective Decker thinks you are in danger.”

Yasmine looked at her with wide, wet eyes.

Sohala said, “I am going to send you to live with Auntie Sofi. You finish school at YULA.”


Why?

“Because Detective Decker thinks you are in danger. Don’t you hear me?”

“But what . . . about Gabe?” Yasmine’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“That is not my business or
your
business, Yasmine. But . . . I will tell you anyway because I have a soft heart. Detective Decker sends him to his father in Nevada.”

Wanda watched the teen’s face crumple. It was absolutely pathetic.

Sohala wagged a finger in front of her daughter’s eyes. “You stop crying now and tell police what happened! Afterward, we talk . . . a lot!”

The hot anger in her mother’s voice brought Yasmine back to reality. She dried her tears on her shirtsleeve. She said, “What do you want to know?”

Sohala said, “I want to know
everything
!”

Yasmine’s voice was tiny. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

Sohala’s burning fury melted into pity. “You okay?”

The girl nodded.

“No one touch you?”

“No. I’m okay.”

“That’s all that matter. Talk to the policewoman. Then we think together about what lies to tell your father so he won’t die.”

“You’re going to tell
Daddy
?”

“I have to tell him something. Why else would you live with Aunt Sofi? But not right away. You want him to have heart attack?”

Her voice was high and thin. “No.” She looked down. “Thank you, Mommy.”

“I do it for Daddy, I don’t do it for you!” A pause. “Well, maybe a little for you.” Sohala’s eyes went wet. “Talk to the lady now.”

When Yasmine nodded, Wanda turned on the tape recorder.

W
atching Oliver chat with Kyle Kerkin over the video monitor, Decker saw that the teen was on the thin side with a developed chest and wiry arms. He had a big nose, thin lips, acne, and a face framed by shoulder-length brown hair. Decker didn’t see any defiance in his demeanor. His posture was upright, his hands folded on the table. His voice was on the soft side and nasal. He wore a plaid shirt jacket, currently draped over a chair, with a black T-shirt, Levis, and sneakers. He looked up when Decker came into the interview room. He crossed his arms over his chest and slouched in the chair, his right leg bouncing up and down.

Decker sat next to the teen and introduced himself.

“You’re Chris’s foster father, right?”

Decker was confused. “Chris?”

“Yeah . . . right. The guy today. He said his name was Chris. Then he said it was something else. I don’t remember what it was.”

Decker didn’t clarify anything. “I understand you’d like to talk to me.” The kid’s leg continued up and down, up and down. “Detective Oliver will talk to you. I’m just here to listen.”

“I’m not an idiot, you know,” Kyle said. “I know I’m taking a big risk here. I haven’t called my parents yet, although they’ll know pretty soon. And I know it’s stupid to talk to you without a lawyer. The thing is, I’m putting myself on the line. I need this one shot to make this go away.”

No one spoke.

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