Milk and Honey (9 page)

“I was just asking,” Karen whined. “Geez.”

Brian walked in, carrying a two-year-old. She was wearing nothing but a diaper. Decker stared at the face. Old Jane had a good eye. There was a resemblance. It wasn’t unusually strong, it wasn’t uncanny, but both little girls shared a certain look.

“That’s the little one?” Decker asked.

“My bundle of trouble,” Patty said. “Here’s your coffee.”

“Thanks.” Decker kept glancing at the baby as he drank. Maybe it was the playful look in the baby’s eyes. Sally had playful eyes.

“So,” Patty said. “How long have you been a cop?”

Decker gulped the coffee as fast as he could. “Too long.”

“Seen it all, haven’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So have I,” Patty said.

“Give me a break,” Brian muttered.

“Keep your damn thoughts to yourself,” Patty said.

Decker put the mug on the countertop. “Thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Bingham. I’ve got to go now.”

“You’re a fast drinker.” Patty nudged him in the ribs. “Hope you don’t do everything that fast.”

Decker groaned inwardly.

“How ’bout a refill?” Patty said.

“No thanks.”

The air conditioner suddenly blasted cold air atop his head.

“Gotta go,” Decker said.

Patty said, “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around, huh?”

Karen rolled her eyes.

Decker said, “Maybe.”

He left as quickly as he could.

“How was Patty
Bingham?” Marge asked.

Decker loosened his tie and said, “Patty has strong, unfulfilled sexual needs.”

“What?” Hollander looked up from his paperwork. “What’s this about unfulfilled sexual needs?”

Marge said, “Go back to sleep, Mike.”

“A crime-lab report came in for you, Pete,” Hollander said. “It’s on your desk.”

“Thanks,” Decker said. He sat down, opened a bottle of aspirin, and swallowed a couple of tablets without water.

“Unfulfilled needs, huh?” said Marge.

“Can I get this woman’s phone number?” Hollander asked.

“You wouldn’t want it,” Decker said. “She’s a piece of work.” To Marge, he said, “Her youngest kid looks a little like Sally.”

“Is that significant?” Marge asked.

“No, not really,” Decker said. “Just a point of observation. As far as Patty goes, maybe she does know who Sally is, maybe she doesn’t. I had a hard time reading her, because she was coming on to me so strongly.”

“Is she listed in the book?” Hollander said.

Decker said, “I talked to some more neighbors. No one knows Baby Sally by name.”

Marge shrugged. Decker broke the seal on the manila envelope. He pulled out several sheets of paper and began to scan them.

“What did you order?” Marge asked.

“Lab report from the scene of my friend’s crime.”

“Still delusional,” Marge said.

“A little delusion never hurt anyone.” He read on. “They didn’t lift any prints off the shiv. It was cleaned.”

“Your friend wiped it,” Marge said.

“Why would he wipe the shiv?” Decker said. “Supposedly it was his shiv, not hers. Of course it would have his prints on it. Seems to me he’d just stick it back in its sheath and leave.”

“Decker,” Marge said. “Watch TV. Criminals clean their weapons.”

Decker said, “Let’s reenact this. My friend rapes and cuts this girl. He wipes the shiv and puts it on the table. Now, presumably, he’s getting ready to go and intends to take the shiv with him.”

“Okay,” Marge said.

“Now if you were cut like she was, you’d scream, right? You couldn’t help yourself.”

“I would think so.”

“So say she screamed when he sliced her. Are you going to wipe your shiv calmly and lay it on the table, or are you going to get the hell out of there, figuring her screaming may have alerted someone?”

“He was cocky. Or he was a psycho who enjoyed watching her suffer.”

“I can’t buy that,” Decker said. “Margie, he’s seen it all—arms and legs and shit blasted all over the place, moaning lumps that used to be people. Some guys got off on torturing anything with slanted eyes. Blood lust or they just went nuts. Not Abel…not Abel.”

Decker covered his mouth, felt himself breathing through his hands.

“You all right?” Marge said.

“Yeah,” Decker said quietly. He wiped his forehead with his jacket sleeve. “Logic tells me that a true rape-o would leave as soon as he was done and worry about cleaning the knife another time. And consider this. His prints were found elsewhere—all over the apartment, as a matter of fact. But
not
on the weapon.”

Marge said, “Maybe he intended to wipe the apartment clean, but she stopped him by clobbering him with the lamp.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing. The gal’s dripping blood and has a collapsed lung, but she has enough strength to hit him with a lamp. And what’s he doing while she’s crawling on the floor and retrieving a lamp?”

“In the john?”

“She didn’t bong him as he exited the john. If I were him, I would have noticed her and stopped her.”

“He was too busy cleaning the shiv to notice.”

“Which brings us back to the first point, do you calmly clean your weapon after all this commotion took place?”

“Maybe he had her terrified.”

“Not too terrified. She bopped him with a lamp.” Decker thought a moment. “I wonder who called the incident in?”

“The PR would be on the tape. Look up the incident number and give Hollywood a call.”

Decker read further. He said, “There are gross inconsistencies here—the clean shiv, the statement of the whore, the time frame…. Hey, we’ve got a bloody footprint lifted from the kitchen floor that didn’t match the shoe Abel was wearing. It was a size-nine left-foot, rubber-sole number.”

“Maybe he changed shoes.”

“Marge…”

“It’s possible.”

“Abel doesn’t have a left foot,” Decker said. “And he
rarely wears a shoe on his prosthesis. Someone else was in the room.”

She didn’t answer.

Decker said, “Sixty-forty a
good
lawyer could get him off right now, without any further investigation.”

“Is that what you want?” Marge asked.

“No. What I want is to find the mother who did this and clear Abel’s name altogether. But that may not be possible.” Decker checked his watch, then locked the file in his desk. “I’ll go over it later. Gotta go to court now.”

His phone rang.

“Sergeant Decker? It’s Ms. Rawlings.”

“Hello, Ms. Rawlings,” Decker said. “How’s my baby Sally?”

“Fine, Sergeant. I just want to tell you that I’m taking her to the doctor’s this afternoon. Would you like to come pick up the report around four o’clock?”

“Unfortunately, I’ll be at the airport,” Decker said. “How about if I come pick it up first thing tomorrow morning?”

“That would be fine, Sergeant.”

“Thanks for phoning, Ms. Rawlings,” Decker said. “Take good care of my baby girl.”

Rina slipped her arms under Peter’s jacket and hugged him tightly. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy, so
relieved
. Strong arms, something to
lean
on. She could feel her muscles loosen, her shoulders and jaw go wonderfully slack. Peter bent down and kissed her gently on the lips. She knew they had to move, that they were blocking the path of people deplaning, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the embrace. Peter finally did it for her.

He looked at her at arms’ length. Metallic blue eyes, creamy, smooth skin, pronounced cheekbones highlighted by a windswept stroke of blush. Her hair was long and loose—a beautiful ebony wave sheathing her back. She
wore a navy shirtdress gathered at the waist, bisected by a white belt.

“You look gorgeous,” Decker said.

“You do, too.”

Decker laughed. “That’s not true, but it’s nice of you to say it.” He picked up her carry-on and her wardrobe. “Did you bring a suitcase?”

Rina shook her head.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

The freeway was jammed rush-hour traffic in the afternoon heat. The unmarked’s air conditioner tried desperately to cool off the sticky upholstery, but the temperature gauge’s needle was grazing the red zone. Horns blasted, the sun reflected blindingly off chrome fenders, side mirrors, and rear windows. Decker shut off the air conditioner and cranked open the window.

“Car’s going to overheat, honey,” he explained.

Rina nodded, rolled down her window. A gust of exhaust fumes from a bus assaulted her nostrils.

“Welcome back,” Decker said with a smile.

“This would be welcome weather in New York. I left one-hundred-degree heat and ninety-percent humidity. At least it’s dry out here.”

Decker took her hand. “Your hair’s uncovered.”

“You noticed.”

“Is that a statement?”

“Sort of.”

Decker took his suit jacket off, inched the car forward. “You want to talk about it?”

“First tell me how you’ve been,” Rina said.

“Nothing changes around here. God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” She took a tissue out of her purse and dabbed his forehead. “It’s so good to see you, Peter. Sometimes I wonder why I left.”

“I’ve been wondering about that, too.”

“I think I wanted you to find God…or my concept of God…I don’t know. How are you and God doing?”

“I can’t speak for the Big Man, but I’m doing okay.”

“How’s Rav Schulman and the yeshiva?”

“Rav Schulman’s fine.”

“Did you spend Shabbos with him last week?”

“No, I changed my mind,” Decker said. “I have a hard time staying in someone else’s house. I’m better off spending Shabbos at home, davening by myself. I’m just not a group person, Rina.”

She nodded. “How’s Cindy’s vacation coming?”

Decker grinned. “She’s having a wonderful time. Jan’s having problems with it. I think she’s going to have a hard time letting go, and is going to dump on anyone who’ll let her. I pity Allen.”

“Is she giving
you
a hard time?”

“Nah. Not too bad considering that in four months my child-support payments will stop and Jan’ll lose her last little leash on my life. Now, when my daughter needs me for money, I can send it to her directly.”

“Is that an improvement?”

“I’m going to find out.” He kissed her hand. “You’re stalling.”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with me, Peter,” Rina said. “It seemed like a big deal over there. Now, it seems…silly. I just had to get out of New York.”

“Are you planning on going back there?”

“That all depends.”

“On what?”

“On if I have a home here.” She faced him. “Do I?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you do.”

“Then I guess I’m moving back.”

Decker grinned.

“Great,” he said.

Rina stepped out of the car and inhaled deeply. “Soil!” she said. “Land. Look at your citrus grove! The trees grow out of the ground instead of pots. It’s so beautiful.”

“Never thought of it quite like that,” Decker said.

“Everything looks so green,” Rina said.

“Actually, everything has been fried by the heat,” Decker said. “Come on inside, I’ll get you something to drink. I’ve even stocked my refrigerator for you.”

“Peter, take me for a ride.”

“We just got out of the car.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “On horseback.”

“Horseback? You?”

“Yes, me. You’ve always wanted to take me riding. Now, I’m giving you a chance.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

“You’re not too tired?” he asked.

She shook her head no.

“It must be ninety-five degrees out here,” Decker said.

“It’ll cool off soon.”

“I’m thirsty,” Decker said. “Can I get a beer first?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Rina brought his mouth onto hers. She felt his hot breath, smelled his sweat, rubbed her fingers into his damp hair. He pulled her closer, undid the top button of her dress, and slipped his hand down the front. Her skin was warm and moist.

“Sure you want to go riding now?” he said.

She didn’t answer, kissed him again. Sweet, long kisses.

“It stays light out for a long time,” Decker said. He unsnapped the next button, she unknotted his tie. She kissed him again.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Decker suggested.

Rina didn’t move. She stroked his chin, traced his jawline with her fingertip.

“It’s cool inside,” Decker said.

Rina laced her arms around his waist.

“You know, I’m trying to be subtle here,” Decker said.

“I can see that,” Rina said. “You’re doing a fine job.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t working,” Decker said. “Well, since Mr. Sensitivity ain’t making any hay, I’m reverting back to caveman style.” He picked her up, unlocked the kitchen door, and headed for the bedroom.

The early evening temperature settled in the mid-80’s, the sky was polished silver lined with rust and lavender. The sun was a fiery disk of orange, sinking quickly behind mammary swells of mountain. Decker pulled a brown stallion named Bear to the Left and followed the foothills, trampling through gray-green shrubbery, hay-colored grass and scrub brush. Wild flowers carpeted the rolling land—orange California poppies, white and blue alyssum, tiny white spring daisies.

Decker knew the trail by heart, but had taken a flashlight for Rina’s benefit. She sat, nestled in his arms, her dress flowing down the sides of the saddle, eyes half-shut, lips parted. She’d been more wonderful than he remembered—soft and sensual—but distant, troubled. Decker knew that she’d never let go completely until after they were married. Rina could never shake her religious belief that sex outside of marriage was wrong. Still, she had come to him willingly….

They rode for a half hour without speaking, rode until the crickets began their foot-rubbing, and low-pitched hoots from woodland animals echoed in the air. A sliver of bleached-white moon peeked over the hilltop.

“This is beautiful,” Rina said.

“I should take more time off,” Decker said. “You’re good
for me. You slow me down. If you weren’t here, I’d be working.”

“I can’t believe I was battling the subway yesterday,” Rina said.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s bothering you?” Decker asked.

“Don’t spoil the moment.”

“Stop stalling,” Decker said.

Rina sighed. “It’s my brother-in-law.”

“Which one?”

“Pessy. Esther’s husband. The one who owns the fur factory.”

“The one you do the books for,” Decker said.

“Yes.”

“He came on to you,” Decker said.

Rina sat up in the saddle. “How’d you know?”

“And you’re shocked. Especially because he’s
frum
.”

She slumped back against him. “Obviously, you’re not surprised.”

“What’d he do to you?”

“Oh God…”

“What’d he do?”

“He backed me up into a corner a couple of weeks ago.”

“And…”

“He was inappropriate,” Rina groaned.

“How? Details.”

“Stop acting like a detective.”

Decker laughed. “Did he kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“What’d you do?”

“I was so shocked, I didn’t do anything.”

“Nice move, Lazarus. Did he feel you up?”

“Peter, could you cool the blow-by-blow?”

Decker grew serious. “Did he get rough with you?”

“No,” Rina said. “No, he didn’t. As soon as I recovered
from my shock, I got out of there, and he didn’t try to stop me. Oh, Peter, how could he have
done
that? Betrayed his wife as well as me. What gets into people like him?”