Authors: Faye Kellerman
T
HE DECKER HOUSE
was much smaller than Gabe’s home in New York, and with everyone coming in and out, the space had become crowded. The brothers had called up a bunch of their old friends, and within hours, dudes were occupying every inch of usable space. The cramped conditions and the noise were making him nervous. When he tried to take refuge in the kitchen, he found it a mess of pots and pans, although the cooking smells were wonderful. Rina was wearing an apron, her forehead moist with sweat. Out of politeness, Gabe asked if he could help. He was relieved when she declined the offer.
“In that case, maybe I’ll go out for a walk.”
“It’s pretty insane around here. Even I’m not used to it anymore.” Rina handed him notepaper and a pencil. “Write down your cell number just in case. And put my cell number into your phone. You should have it in case of an emergency.”
“I’ll do it, although I think I’ll be okay.”
“What if your mugger comes back for revenge?”
Gabe took out his iPod and smiled. “I still have my right hand. Can I pick up something for you while I’m out?”
“No, I’m covered.” Rina tousled his hair. “Don’t get lost in your music.”
“Actually, it seems like a perfect thing to get lost in.”
He left the hubbub and hadn’t been gone more than ten minutes when he felt the vibration of his phone against his leg. He retrieved the phone, looked at the window, and saw that the number was restricted. He knew that the Deckers’ landline phone was unlisted. It was probably Rina checking up on him. He debated letting it ring, but she’d probably keep calling until he answered. He took out his left earbud, clicked the green on button, and said, “Hi. I’m still alive.”
“That’s good to hear. What happened to your hand?”
The deep voice on the other end wasn’t Rina. “Chris?” Gabe started shaking. “Where are you?”
“Answer the question. What happened to your hand?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Then why’d you go to a hand surgeon?”
The man had eyes in back of his head. “It’s nothing, Chris. It isn’t even worth talking about.”
“Talk about it anyway.”
“I got in a fight. It was a little sore. It was fine, but Rina…Mrs. Decker insisted I go to the doctor. How’d you know about it? Where are you?”
“You got into a fight?” The line went quiet. “You’re the most nonconfrontational person I know. What the hell happened?”
“Someone tried to grab my briefcase. I fought him off.”
“Why the hell did you do that?”
“Because I had all the stuff you gave me in there.”
“Gabriel, all that shit is replaceable. Your hands aren’t. Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Well, I didn’t know how replaceable the stuff was, seeing you’ve been hard to reach lately and you get very piqued when I bother you.”
“So I get piqued. It’s better than ruining your life. Don’t fuck around with your hands, okay?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose. Where are you?”
“I’ve got to go.”
“Decker thinks you’re innocent.”
Donatti gave out a mirthless laugh. “He’s feeding you shit. He wants to fry me.”
“Maybe. He wants you to come down and take a lie-detector test.”
“Fuck that.”
“He thinks it’ll clear you. He said you could pass it even if you did murder Mom.”
This time, Donatti’s laugh was genuine. “He’s right about that. Tell him to fuck himself.”
“How about if I say you’re not interested. He’s going to know about this phone call. He checks my phone records. What do you want me to tell him?”
“Whatever you want.”
“What’s going on with Mom?”
“Ask your pal Decker. He’s been following in my footsteps. What else has he been telling you?”
“Lemme think…”
Note to self: pretend to think
. “He knew you were in town on Tuesday. He said you’re both on the same path, only he’s a couple steps behind you.”
Silence on the other end. “Go on.”
“Decker thinks that maybe he’s found Mom’s car. He said you were looking for it at the same spot as he was.”
“And?”
“The car he found wasn’t registered to Mom. So maybe it wasn’t her car. He’s looking into that. Did you find Mom?”
“No, Gabriel, I have not found her. What else did he say about the car?”
Note to self: try not to sound rehearsed
. “He said that the car was owned by some Indian guy. Indian Indian. He told me the name but I forgot it.”
“Atik Jains.”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Name sound familiar?”
“I don’t know the guy. What about you?”
“No.” Donatti paused. “So you never saw Mom with an Indian man? You were with her a lot more than I was.”
Here was the part where he really needed to sound convincing. “I didn’t see her that much. I was either in school or locked up practicing. The only reason we saw each other at all was because my lessons were in the city.”
“Interesting, Gabe, but you didn’t answer the question. Did you ever see her with an Indian man?”
“I don’t remember Mom being with
any
man, let alone an Indian,” he lied. “I mean I’m sure I saw her talking to men, but nothing that sticks out as weird.”
There was a long pause. “Okay. If you find out anything, you’ll let me know, right?”
“Of course,” Gabe lied again. “Are you in L.A.?”
“No. I’ll call you if I find your mother.” Donatti was silent. For a moment, Gabe thought he’d hung up. Finally, Chris said, “You okay where you are?”
“They’re real nice for perfect strangers.”
“When the dust clears, you can come live with me. If you want to go back to New York, I’ll get you a housekeeper. Personally, I think you’re best off where you are.”
“I agree mainly because I found a teacher.”
A pause. “Who?”
There was real curiosity in his father’s voice. He and Chris had only two things in common: Mom and music. Both were dominant factors in their lives.
“Nicholas Mark.”
Again, Donatti was silent. “How the hell did you wangle that?”
“His doctor is the hand surgeon that saw me. By accident, he heard me play and afterward he agreed to take me on for a few lessons. I’m hoping my dedication will convince him to take me on permanently. I’ll need someone of his caliber if I have any hopes of doing the Chopin International in five years.”
“What’d you play for him?”
“Fantaisie-Impromptu and ‘La campanella.’”
“You played ‘La campanella’ with a sore left hand?”
“Yeah. I made mistakes but it wasn’t too bad, considering. I was relaxed. I didn’t know I was playing in front of Nicholas Mark. The main thing is he agreed to give me a few lessons.”
“Maybe you’re finally reaching your goddamn potential. I always told you if you quit fucking around, you could be one of the greats.”
“Thanks for the compliment—I think.”
“Don’t be a snot nose.” A pause. “Guys like Mark can’t come cheap. If you need more money, call up one of my places and I’ll put more cash in your accounts. As nice as it’s been to chitchat with you, Gabriel, duty calls. I’ve got to go.”
But Gabe wasn’t ready to hang up. “Aren’t you worried about this call being traced?”
“They trace cell calls by relay towers. And towers can get scrambled if you have the right equipment.”
“If you find Mom, please don’t hurt her.”
“I’m not going to
hurt
her. I’m done with that.” Said more to himself than to Gabe. “I’m pissed as hell, but I’m not without insight. I’m impossible to live with. If she needs to get something out of her system, I can handle it. I want to find her mainly because I love her. But also all my businesses are in her name. I’ve got taxes coming up and she’s got to sign papers or I’m screwed.”
“Why don’t you forge her signature?”
“I do that all the time. That’s not the problem. The problem is if she’s officially missing—not dead, just missing—she can’t sign anything. That means everything she owns is in limbo until there’s a legal resolution. I’d rather have her alive. But I’d rather have her dead than missing. If she was dead, you’d own everything. I could deal with that. If you need something, call up one of my places in Elko, okay?”
“What do you mean, I’d own everything?”
“You’re her legal heir, not me.”
“But it’s not mine, it’s yours.”
“But legally it would be yours.”
“So like do I have to sign something to hand it over to you?”
“Gabe, I can’t own brothels and casinos. I’m a felon.”
“I thought you were pardoned.”
“I was let out of prison but I still have a record. I’m not worried about my assets being in your name. You’re not going to steal from me. That would be really stupid. If you need money, it’s the one thing I can give you. Take care of yourself. And lay off the fighting.” A pause. “I can’t believe you fought off a mugger. That’s so unlike you.”
“Maybe I’ve got more Whitman in me than either of us thought.”
“Maybe.” Chris was silent. “So maybe you actually are my kid.”
Gabe laughed. “You have doubts?”
“You’re the only carelessness that led to an accident and I’ve been careless all my life.”
“Thanks for relegating my existence to a fluke.”
“Stop being such a wuss. I support you, don’t I?”
“Take a paternity test, Chris. I’m willing.”
“Maybe you are, but I’m not.” A pause. “You have blood relatives, Gabe. You got a mom and an aunt and a grandfather. You have a father—whoever he is.”
“You know you’re being ridiculous—”
“Who knows?” Donatti continued. “I’m betting that in the future, your mom will conceive a kid from someone else and you’ll have a sister or a brother. Even more so, unlike me, you’ll probably have your own children.”
“You know that I’m commonly called your son—”
“Me? I got no one. I got no mom. I got no dad. I got no brothers and no sisters and no grandparents. Both my parents were only children, so I have no aunts, uncles, cousins. I have no known blood relationships except you.
“If I found out that you weren’t mine, that your mother had cheated on me and fucked some other guy while I was penned up, I’d say adios and eat a gun. To me, it’s better to die than to live out life as an extinct species.”
MARGE KNOCKED ON
the open door sash, then walked into Decker’s office. “From what the dealers say, it’s a 2004 Honda Civic. Same car that Garth drives.”
Decker pointed to the seat across from his desk. “We’ve already got a BOLO on it in California. Call up Vegas Metropolitan and ask them for help. Tell them it might be part of a crime scene.”
“Already done.” Marge sat down.
“Were they cooperative?”
“Not too bad. I think that Detective Silver would take us more seriously if we went down in person. I’ve talked to Oliver. We’d like to drive down and hunt around over the weekend.”
“Fine with me. I’d go with you except that my whole family is in town and I’ve got to go to Adrianna Blanc’s memorial service tomorrow.”
“Pete, if you want, we can drive down later and I can go to the service. I know how you feel about working on Shabbos. And how often do you have all your kids in one place?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I have to go. If I don’t show up, Kathy Blanc will be pissed at me, and she’s pissed enough as is. It’s at eleven o’clock. I’ll have plenty of time with my family in the afternoon. Besides I’ve got this irrational scintilla of hope that maybe Garth or Mandy will show.”
“Delusions make life worth living.”
“I can get you money for airplane tickets to Vegas if you don’t want to drive.”
“Thanks, but we both decided that driving will probably not only be less of a hassle but will probably take less time. Plus we won’t have to rent a car. We’ll save our gas and hotel receipts for reimbursement.”
“Fair enough. Where is Scott?”
“He’s still at St. Tim’s trying to track down someone who might have seen Mandy or Garth at the emergency vehicle dock. He’s talked to some of the EMTs who were on shift that Monday. The guys and gals he talked to said they were too busy concentrating on what they were doing to notice a few strays.”
“Good to know that EMTs take their jobs seriously.”
“Good for society, bad for us.” Marge stretched. “I’ll go make that call to Lonnie Silver at Vegas Metropolitan. Also, I have some information on the Beretta you gave me yesterday.” When he looked blank, she said, “The one from Hannah’s mugging?”
“Oh, right. Stolen of course.”
“Of course. Two years ago. It belonged to…” She checked her notes. “Dr. Ray Olson of Pacific Palisades. We’re running it through ballistics. I’ll let you know if we get some hits.”
“It would be nice if something positive came out of it.”
“How’s Hannah doing?”
“She seems okay.” He shook his head. “What a terrible thing to go through. I should have been more sympathetic to her.”
“Why don’t you bring her some flowers. That’s always a crowd-pleaser. There’s a florist a few blocks away. I’ll pick up something sweet like sunflowers.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Don’t even go there.” Marge laughed. “By the way, Chuck Tinsley called. He wants his jewelry back.”
His brain cells finally sparked. “Marge, where’d you find the jewelry?”
“Where?”
“Yeah, where in his apartment. Was it in plain sight?”
“I think it was in his underwear drawer.”
“In a bag or what?”
Marge thought. “Yeah, they were in a paper lunch bag.”
“And you itemized them?”
“Of course.”
“And you gloved up when you sorted through them?”
“Absolutely. Didn’t want to ruin any DNA if one of the pieces was from Adrianna.”
Decker nodded. “Tell Tinsley we misplaced the pieces but we have a list of the items. If the stuff is permanently lost, we’ll replace them for cash value. And at the current price of gold, he shouldn’t complain.”
“Are the pieces lost?”
Reaching into his desk drawer, he pulled out the paper evidence bag with the jewelry. “Look for yourself.”
“What’s up, Pete?”
“When did Tinsley’s mother die?”
“I have no idea.”
“Why would a guy like Tinsley keep his mother’s jewelry? Some of these pieces look valuable. There’s a big gold bracelet studded with rubies and there’s a necklace pendant—an
R
made out of diamonds. Those could bring in some bucks. Does Tinsley look like the sentimental type to you?”