The Beast A DeckerLazarus Novel (44 page)

BOOK: The Beast A DeckerLazarus Novel
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“Let me call Decker first.” The cell again went immediately into voice mail. “God, I hate this!”

“Go back and be useful, Margie,” Oliver told her. “I’m in good hands. Better than yours. Go get the idiot before someone else gets hurt!” Under his breath, he muttered, “Motherfucking asshole!”

Marge walked back toward Paxton’s house. From a distance, she saw a huddle of black uniforms on the front lawn of his home. She watched with curiosity, and as the pack parted, a little gnome of a man was hoisted up to his feet.

George Paxton was once again wearing green. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he was being escorted by two officers to a cruiser. As one of the uniforms lowered Paxton’s head to get into the car, the gnome’s eyes found Marge’s face. He glared at her and screamed out that he wanted a lawyer.

It was his right.

He was sure as hell going to need one.

SOMEONE KNOCKED ON
the doorjamb. When Decker raised his head from his paperwork, Marge gave him the thumbs-up. “We found a
stash of recently washed bills. God bless the U.S. mint. Money is hard to clean thoroughly. Some of the bills had specks of blood on them. We took those for DNA analysis.”

“Great.”

“Most important, we found the gun. Ballistics says it’s a match. Yay and double yay!”

“He actually kept the gun?”

“He did.” Marge pulled up a chair opposite his desk and sat down. She was dressed all in black, as if in mourning, although Oliver was fine. He was already home, being doted on by his three sons, daughters-in-law, and his steady girlfriend, Carmen, whom he referred to as the Latina bombshell. In reality, she was a dedicated junior high school teacher in a high crime area.

“Any reason he didn’t ditch it?”

“I really don’t know,” Marge told him. “Pride, carelessness, a lasting memory of his deed.” She shrugged. “This is what I suspect happened, although I have no proof just yet.”

“Tell me.”

“Here goes. After one of the neighbors complained about shots coming from Penny’s apartment, he went in to investigate. He saw that Penny was dead. But then rather than call the police, he began to stuff his pockets with the bloody cash left behind. Then Penny must have moved or groaned. Paxton panicked, picked up the nearby gun, and fired into his back. Then, realizing that the gun had his bloody fingerprints, he took the weapon with him along with all the cash. Maybe eventually he would have ditched it. Lucky for us, he was slow. Slow and stupid. Really stupid. Why would you open fire on the cops?”

“Some people panic and do moronic things. Some people, when faced with danger such as a charging grizzly bear, act cool, calm, and collected.”

“How is Vignette?”

“With the money from Penny’s will, she has already hired a full-time assistant.”

“Good for her.”

“They gave her extra you know . . . especially when I told them what she did for me.”

“I take it you mean Penny’s children?”

“Yep. Darius and Graciela . . . and Sabrina. It came out of their inheritance. I think they put around two million in a trust for the sanctuary. Vignette can’t stop grinning.”

“Too bad there are no enclosures for beasts like Penny,” Marge said.

“It’s called a prison,” Decker said.

Marge gave him a forced smile. “Will said that they also set up a fund for Penny’s victims once they find them. They’re also funding cold-case detectives to reopen the file.”

“They’re good folk.”

“Seems that way.” Another forced smile. Marge tried to talk but couldn’t get the words out. Decker regarded her face. “What’s on your mind?”

“I got some news for you, Pete. Good news for a change.”

Decker smiled. “Let’s hear it.”

“I’m engaged.”

“You are?” He got up and hugged her. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised. That’s wonderful. When’s the big day?”

“Somewhere in the future. But I’m getting a ring, so it’s going to be official.”

“Margie, I am happy for you. Anything Rina and I can do for you or for the wedding. Maybe give you a rehearsal dinner or—”

“Oh please. We’re both so old. No bridesmaid, no groomsmen, nothing formal. Whenever it will be, it’ll be a quiet affair and hopefully somewhere lovely. Santa Barbara is filled with beach and wineries and beautiful mountains. We just have to pick a time and a place. And yes, we will be sure not to make it on Saturday. We want you to be there. All of your family will be invited.”

Decker hugged her again. “Did you tell Oliver?”

“I’m going to tell him tonight. But I wanted to talk to you first.” She pointed to his chair. “Have a seat.”

“Uh-oh!” Decker made a face and sat down. “Bad news?”

“Not really.”

“Lay it on me, girl.”

She licked her lips. “You know, Vega is now in Silicon Valley. She’s doing great.”

Decker felt his heartbeat quicken. “And your condo feels a little empty?”

“I’m putting it up for sale. Will and I . . . we’re actually going to try and be a couple, Pete. Being a real couple means coming home after work to the same house or condo. At least, that’s what it means to me.”

“You’re making a commitment.”

“Yes. And because we’re making a commitment to live together as a married couple, we just can’t live that far apart. And that means either he comes down to L.A. or I go up to Santa Barbara. And we both know that SBPD is already full.”

“Will wants a job here?”

“No, Will has a job that he likes just fine.”

“Ah . . . I see. So where are you going?”

“Nowhere yet.” Marge’s eyes watered. “But in a year, I will have reached that benchmark of twenty-five years with LAPD. That’s a long time and a good pension.”

“You’re retiring.”

“Not exactly. I’m a little too young for that. I’ve been interviewing with Camarillo, Oxnard, and Ventura. They’ve got a couple of detectives retiring next year . . . there’ll be space.” She looked down at her lap. “Change is good . . . or so they say.”

Decker bit his lower lip. “I should be furious, but I’m not. I’m actually very relieved.”

Marge stared at him. “
Relieved
?”

“In six months, I will reach the benchmark of thirty years. That’s also a long time and a good pension.”

She stared at him. “So you’re retiring.”

“Not exactly,” Decker said. “But I wouldn’t mind something a little less hectic. I’ve been interviewing at a few places as well.”

“Where?”

“Back east.”

“Back
east
?”

“Koby got into medical school at Mount Sinai Medical School. He and Cindy and the boys are moving. That means all of our children, including Gabe, will be living near the Atlantic. I can take being away from the kids. They have their own lives. But I decided that I want to be a part of my grandchildren’s lives. Rina wholeheartedly concurs. So I’ve been talking to a small eastern town in New York near the Five Colleges of Upstate. About three hours from all the kids.”

“And?”

“And we’re also putting our house up for sale.”

Marge glared at him. “You’re
leaving
me?”

“Excuse me?” Decker said. “You
left
me first.”

“I’m not leaving yet. I’m giving you a year’s notice. When are you leaving?”

“My plan is around six months.”

“So you are
leaving
me.”

“I suppose that’s technically true.”

“It’s true in absolute terms.” She stood up with her hands on her hips. “You bum!”

Decker stood and threw his arm around her. “I’ll miss you, Marge Dunn. Truly we’ve been together a long time . . . longer than I’ve been with my wife.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Rabbi.” She looked away. “But I’ve got you where I really need you.”

“Where’s that?”

Marge pointed to her brain and then to her heart. “Enough of this soppy stuff.” She opened the door to his office. “Let’s go out and celebrate my upcoming engagement. Dinner’s on me.”

“No, I’ll pay.”

“No, I’ll pay.” Marge grinned. “I’m the only one of the three of us who is currently uninjured. Let me clear my desk, get my purse, and we’re out of here.”

“That’s fine. I have to make a few phone calls as well.”

“Rina’s invited, you know.”

“Not this time, Sarge. It’s just you and me.” It took around ten minutes for Decker to finalize his paperwork. When he got to Marge’s desk, she was staring at a pink leather bag. There was a cardboard box on the table and gift wrapping that had been torn into.

“New purse?” he asked.

“It’s from Graciela,” she said.

“Ah . . . the Berkoff bag.”

Marge laughed. “Birkin.”

“Nice. She was determined for you to have it.”

Marge was shocked. “I can’t keep this.”

“Why not?” Decker asked. “She’s a private citizen. The baroness can give you anything she wants.”

“Pete, I can’t. I mean I have no opportunity whatsoever to use this. If I put this on the arm of a chair at a restaurant, it’ll be stolen. Well, maybe not at the restaurants Will and I go to. But anywhere fancy . . . I mean, this is a partial down payment on a condo.”

“So sell it and buy a condo up north with your fiancé. Call it Casa de Graciela. And I, for one, can’t think of a more fitting title. Because everything you’ve ever handled in these past twenty-five years has been done with aplomb and grace.”

Her eyes watered up immediately.

Decker smiled. “Oh c’mon, Dunn, stop that.”

Marge flapped her hands in front of her face. “I can’t believe how weepy I feel. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Admit it, Marge. You’re just a sentimental old gal.”

She hit him. “Not old.” Marge stood up. “Let’s get out of here.”

Decker said, “How old are you again?”

“Figure it out yourself, old man.” She slipped her fingers around the strap of the Birkin bag, regarding the pink leather handbag with loving eyes. Then she looked at Decker. “Besides, you should know better than to ask any woman—even one who loves you dearly—her age.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photograph by Karen Miller

FAYE KELLERMAN
lives with her husband,
New York Times
bestselling author Jonathan Kellerman, in Los Angeles, California, and Santa Fe, New Mexico.

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www.AuthorTracker.com
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ALSO BY FAYE KELLERMAN

Gun Games

Hangman

Blindman’s Bluff

The Mercedes Coffin

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: A Book of Short Stories

With Jonathan Kellerman

Double Homicide

Capital Crimes

With Aliza Kellerman

Prism

CREDITS

Cover design and illustration by Mumtaz Mustafa

COPYRIGHT

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

THE BEAST
. Copyright © 2013 by Plot Line, Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

FIRST EDITION

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Kellerman, Faye.

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