The Mercedes Coffin (44 page)

“Then I suppose I got what I came for.” Genoa stood. “Although not entirely solved, I’m satisfied. And I intend to make good on my promise, much to the delight of your captain.”

“Much to the delight of the entire police force.”

“I understand that your captain is taking me to a dinner in my honor tonight. I’m meeting the commissioner and the police chief. I assume you’ll be there as well?”

Decker’s smile was tight. “No, ma’am, I have prior arrangements.”

“And you can’t cancel them?”

“Not unless I want a divorce.”

DECKER WAS IN
a suit and tie. Rina was in a black dress and black pumps and wearing pearls. Just as they pulled up to the valet, Rina said, “I’m not in the mood for this.”

Decker was silent.

“Not that I don’t want to be with you, I’m just not in the mood for a dog and pony show… nor the giant bill that will surely follow. I packed a picnic dinner. Let’s find a nice spot at the beach and eat in the car.”

If Decker never saw the ocean again, it would be too soon. “Sure. Where?”

“How about Sunset Beach?”

As long as it wasn’t Santa Monica, it was tolerable. It took about a half hour to drive and find a good spot on a paved parking lot right off Pacific Coast Highway. Decker pulled the Porsche over and killed the headlights and the motor. Looking out the window… the two of them staring out at vast nothingness. No moonlight, lots of overcast fog, and tides rolling back and forth.

“The picnic basket is in the front compartment.”

“I’ll get it.” Decker returned a moment later with the food. Rina might have still been pissed at him, but it didn’t translate in her cooking. There were smoked chicken breasts on baguettes, brisket on rye, butter lettuce salad with macadamia nuts, potato chips, strawberries dipped in chocolate and champagne.

“I’m unworthy,” Decker said.

“You’re not kidding.” Silence. “That was mean. I apologize.”

“Why don’t you just get it all out, and maybe then we can move on.”

“There’s nothing to get out.” A pause. “I can’t believe how little disregard you have for your loved ones and yourself.”

Decker didn’t answer.

“Well?” she asked.

“I have no response that isn’t going to get me into more hot water, so I plead the Fifth.”

“This is getting it all out?” When Decker remained silent, Rina said, “You want a brisket or chicken?”

“I want to get along.”

“Am I fighting?”

“You know what I mean.”

“What am I doing? I cook you dinner, I take care of your daughter, I make love to you—”

“That’s for both of us.”

“I do whatever you need.”

“You’re talking about me like I’m a house pet.”

“I don’t make love to a house pet,” she huffed. “By the way, thanks for the flowers — again — but no more. The house is looking like a funeral home.”

“It isn’t?” Decker’s attempted joke was met with silence. “Pass the brisket.” After Rina handed him a sandwich, he said, “This is much too good to eat when you’re not getting along. What do you want from me?”

“For you to promise that you’ll never do something that blatantly stupid again.”

“Done.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s probably wise.”

Rina hit him. “So you don’t care about making me a widow twice?”

“I’d only be making you a widow once. As pissed as you are, you can’t blame the first time on me.”

“You’re not funny.”

Decker put down the sandwich. “The situation probably won’t come up again, so the promise I made you will probably remain valid throughout my lifetime. I know it was stupid; people make mistakes. I love you. Can we move on, please?”

Rina was silent. She took out a chicken sandwich, said grace over her food, and bit into it. They ate in silence: a half hour of chewing and swallowing and an occasional grunt in between. When Decker offered to open the champagne, Rina nodded.

They toasted to health.

Then more silence.

Decker finally said, “In a very weak and not so subtle attempt to get on your good side, I’ve upgraded our accommodations for the cruise. I’ve booked us a room with an outside deck and an adjoining room for Hannah.”

“This is what it takes for you to get a deck — almost getting yourself killed?”

“A simple ‘that’s great, dear’ would suffice.”

“That’s great, dear.” Rina was silent. But then she smiled. “I’m excited… about the cruise.”

Decker smiled back. “So am I.”

“Eight days without any responsibility in pristine surroundings.”

“It doesn’t get any better than that.”

“And you’re sure you can get the time off.”

Decker laughed. “After what I went through, that’s not a problem.”

“We’ll go whale watching?”

“Sounds great.”

“And canoeing and kayaking.”

“I’ll row, you take the pictures.”

“Will you serve me breakfast in bed?”

“I will.”

“Will you wear a black uniform and call me madam?”

“Pass the strawberries.”

“I think you’d look cute in a butler’s uniform.”

“I’ll be the butler if you’ll be the maid.”

“I already am the maid.”

“Yeah, but I’m talking about the kind of maid that wears a black little thing with a white apron and a feather duster.”

Rina hit him again.

“What? A guy can’t dream?”

“Not if he already has a dream girl.”

“No argument there.” Decker leaned back. “This was a very good idea. Much better than a stuffy old restaurant. As usual, you were right.” He leaned over and kissed his wife. “I love you. Thanks for being the wonderful woman that you are.”

“I love you, too.” Rina’s eyes moistened. “Thanks for being a terrific husband… and thanks for just being alive.”

F
AYE
K
ELLERMAN
lives with her husband,
New York Times
bestseller Jonathan Kellerman, in Los Angeles, California; Santa Fe, New Mexico; and New York.

The Burnt House

The Ritual Bath

Sacred and Profane

The Quality of Mercy

Milk and Honey

Day of Atonement

False Prophet

Grievous Sin

Sanctuary

Justice

Prayers for the Dead

Serpent’s Tooth

Moon Music

Jupiter’s Bones

Stalker

The Forgotten

Stone Kiss

Street Dreams

Straight into Darkness

The Garden of Eden and other Criminal Delights
(short-story anthology)

Double Homicide

Capital Crimes