“I didn’t bother bringing the pinkies,” Annie said. “But you’re right. This could have been the victim’s pinkie ring. Except that the band would be so thick, it would practically take up all the space between the hand and second knuckle. A nurse wearing something uncomfortable like that? I didn’t see it. But it could be an ill-fitting pinkie ring.”

“You think the ring doesn’t belong to the body you found,” Decker said.

“That’s my off-the-record observation,” Annie said. “It’s inconclusive. I was just fooling around in case it took you a while to find the radiographs. Might set your thinking in a different direction.”

“I’ll say.” Marge licked her lips. “So if the ring belonged to Marie…and the ring doesn’t match the bones…whose bones were in Marie’s car?”

Decker ran his hand over his face. “Good question.”

Annie gave a wry smile. “Good question indeed.”

22

Expecting turmoil, Decker was surprised to find the house in solid working order. The living room had been cleared of blankets and diapers, and the dining-room table had been set for dinner with real dishes. Something aromatic was brewing in the kitchen. Decker followed his nose and opened the oven. Two roasting pans held stuffed Cornish game hens that were browning nicely. He poured himself a glass of milk.

In Jewish law, the mixing of meat and dairy was prohibited, but one could drink a glass of milk before eating flesh. He thought about the reasoning behind the seemingly antiquated law. In Hebraic times, pagan tribes would eat suckling calves because they were the tenderest. And, as an added bonus, the cooks would boil the calves in the milk from the engorged udders of the nursing mother. Generally, he gave little thought to the law other than a twinge of annoyance at having to give up cheeseburgers. But now that Hannah was born—and seeing Rina nurse her—he recognized the kindness behind the prohibition.

He took a deep breath, enjoying the quiet until he realized that the house was too quiet.

He drew back the curtain from his kitchen window. Underneath the veranda, his mother-in-law and the baby nurse were having a coffee klatch outside. Actually, it was more like an iced-tea klatch, judging by the amber-filled pitcher and two frosted tumblers. He wondered where Rina and Cindy were, but was hesitant to go outside. The women would probably consider him an intrusion. His eyes swept over his back acreage. The land was dry and dusty. The horses needed to be checked. He finished his milk, took a deep breath, then went out the back door. The women looked up and bid him welcome. Everyone was in a good mood. That was novel.

“Ladies.” Decker kissed his mother-in-law’s cheek and took a seat. “Where are my other pretty ladies?”