If he had to work tomorrow, he would have quit and headed home. But nothing awaited him on his day off except a lunch date with a ghost. His stomach churned at the thought, and he tried to forget about it—him. Better to deal with the past in the light of day.

One more time around the block for good measure. If nothing popped up, he’d go home.

He was a tenacious son of a bitch, part of what made him a good cop. Anyway, he wasn’t tired. He’d taken a catnap earlier in the evening, right before his weekly Bible session with Rabbi Schulman. The old man was in his seventies, yet had more energy than men half his age. The two of them had learned together for three hours straight. At midnight, when the rabbi still showed no signs of tiring, Decker announced he couldn’t take any more.

The old man had smiled and closed his volume of the Talmud. They were studying civil laws of lost and found. After the lesson, they talked a bit, smoked some cigarettes—the first nicotine fix Decker’d had all day. Thirty minutes later, he departed with an armful of papers to study for next week.

But he was too hyped up to go home and sleep. His favorite method of coping with insomnia was to take long drives into the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains—breathe in the beauty of unspoiled lands, knolls of wildflowers and scrub grass, gnarled oaks and honey-colored maples. The peace and solitude nestled him like a warm blanket, and within a short period of time he usually became relaxed enough to sleep. He’d been on his way home when he noticed the flash of light. Though he tried to convince himself it was nothing, something in his gut told him to keep going.

He circled the block, then reluctantly pulled over to the curb and killed the engine. He sat for a moment, smoothing his mustache, then slapped the steering wheel and opened the car door.

What the hell, the walk would do him good. Stretch out his legs. No one was awaiting his arrival at the ranch, anyway. The home fires had been put out a long time ago. Decker thought of his phone conversation with Rina earlier in the evening. She’d sounded really lonely, hinted about coming back to Los Angeles for a visit—just her and not the boys. Man, had he sounded eager—overeager. He’d been so damned excited, she’d probably seen his horns over the telephone wires. Decker wondered if he’d scared her off, and made a mental note to call her in the morning.