Decker shook his head no.

“So from the boys’ perspectives,” Rina went on, “they just walked in their front door and saw that their parents weren’t home. Why would the boys have taken off?”

Another very good question. If the boys weren’t involved, how did they know something was amiss. He said, “The only thing I can think of is that the parents left them a sign.”

“A sign?”

“A signal of some sort.” Decker thought out loud. “Arik knew that Milligan had a lot to gain if she could get hold of his stocks. Maybe he knew she was capable of doing some pretty ruthless things to further her ambition. So he was worried. He told his sons that if they ever came home and saw such-and-such picture was crooked, or if such-and-such lamp—”

Decker suddenly stopped talking.

“What?” Rina asked.

Decker’s eyes were on Rina, but his mind was elsewhere. “Or if a certain porcelain dog was turned around…” He wagged his finger in the air. “If you see that damn dog in the open shelf in the entry hall turned around, you go grab the money I left hidden for you in the inside mezuzah, you go grab your passports, and you get out of town immediately!”

His focus returned to Rina.

“There was a porcelain dog sitting in Yalom’s entry hall facing backward. It would have been a very easy thing for Arik Yalom to do. Just a simple flick of the wrist on his way out the front door. The boys saw it and fled.”

“They must be terrified.”

“I’m sure they are.” Suddenly, Decker pulled his wife into an embrace. “I love you so damn much!”

“I like it when you’re passionate.”

“That’s not passion, baby, that’s relief.” Decker blew out air. “Let’s go find the boys.”

Decker opened the door, then turned to his wife. “By the way. Did I mention that Honey Klein’s probably in Israel?”

Rina stopped in her tracks. “What? She’s here? You can’t just drop that on me, Peter!”

Decker slipped his arm around Rina’s shoulder and scooted her out the door. “Tell you all about it on the ride over to Jerusalem.”

31

Rina looked out to a grove of sunflowers, stalks bending under the weight of their fruit, black faces with golden manes craning their necks toward the sunlight. Her eyes stared out the window, but her mind was on other things. She couldn’t believe that Honey Klein had set out to murder her husband. The police and their conclusions just didn’t square with the girl Rina had known, the woman and mother who had visited their home.

She faced her husband. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it.”