There was an awkward silence. She smiled. He smiled.

“I’m very nervous,” she said.

“So am I.”

“Don’t expect too much. It’s been almost three years—”

“The mechanics haven’t changed, Rina.”

“Well, that’s comforting.”

He burst into laughter, scooped her into his arms, and carried her into the bedroom, kicking shut the door behind him.

24

Waking. That delicious stage of limbo between sleep and full arousal. The senses working but not consciously coding. Decker’s body was drugged with exhaustion from all-night lovemaking, his mind groggy from words and confessions. He turned to his side and hugged his pillow as if it were a lover.

His mouth had been hopelessly manic last night. He had talked, confided…babbled. What had he told her? It made no difference. There was still so much more left unsaid. So much more for the future.

He opened his eyes. She was gone, as he knew she would be. But she had been no phantom, no dream. The room was a testament to what had passed between them, the air still redolent of musk and sweat, the sheets still damp with their juices.

He shut his eyes. Pardes, he thought. Me and Ben Azzai. Neither of us wants to go back.

Promises between passion. Vows between tears. What words of hope had filled their hearts? He had agreed to continue studying with the rabbi. No guarantees about the outcome. If something clicked, she’d meet him halfway. In a sense, she had done that last night.

In the end, it was left up to destiny. Basheert.

Marge caught him as he exited from the unmarked.

“Where the hall have you been?” she said.

“Sorry.”

“It’s two-thirty, for chrissakes!”

“I got hung up.” He tucked his tie under his collar and started to make a knot.

“Hung up?” she said skeptically. “You look like a piece of trash that the wind just blew in and smell like a whale’s testicle. I sure hope she was worth it, Pete, ’cause you’re in hot water right now.”

He’d misjudged the length and the tie came out too short. “What’s wrong?” he asked, undoing it.

“Let me do that,” Marge said disgustedly. “Armand Arlington’s in one of the interview rooms waiting to talk to you. Morrison feels he’s about to drop a dime, and the good captain is pretty damn pissed—at you and me—that Mr. Megabucks had to cool his heels for the past hour. I’m supposed to know where you are, remember?”

“Well, how was I to know he was here?”

“Try answering your phone or your beeper. What’d you do? Turn them both off?”

Decker gave her a helpless smile and shrugged.

Marge looped the tie and pushed the knot to his chin.

“What did you do to Arlington, Pete? The man didn’t come forward because he wanted to clear his conscience.”