Rina lagged behind, watching her husband’s jumpiness. He was lost, depending on her to trailblaze. She stepped inside the chilly room, her hand reaching up to touch the mezuzah posted on the doorjamb. She kissed her fingertips.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m with you, I’m fine.”

He waited for his pupils to dilate, then looked around. An empty desk stood along the right-hand wall; behind it was an open door leading somewhere. He called out a hello, then wondered if hello was the greeting of choice in Israel.

It took a few moments for a young man to come through the door behind the desk, his fingers touching the mezuzah, then his lips, as he came into the room. He was good-looking with solid features and a masculine bone structure, even though his cheeks and chin were hidden by a thick, black beard. He wore a black suit, white shirt, and no tie. Atop his close-cropped head was a black hat. Big brown eyes studied Rina first, then Decker, then climbed back to Rina. It was as if he instinctively knew to whom to talk.

“Yes, can I help you?”

An American accent. Decker was elated. The man spoke English. “You’re from the States.”

The man nodded.

“Whereabouts?”

“Omaha, believe it or not. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact there is. I’m Detective Sergeant Peter Decker from the Los Angeles Police Department.” Decker took out his badge and showed it to the Nebraskan. “I’m here on official business. I’m looking for two teenaged brothers—Gil and Dov Yalom. Their parents were murdered about a week ago in Los Angeles and they’ve disappeared. We’re trying to find them—just to talk to them.”

The young man studied Decker’s badge, then lifted his eyes. “And you think they’re here?”

“I know they’re in Israel. I have reason to suspect that the younger boy—Dov—might be hiding out in a yeshiva.”

“In Or Torah specifically?”

Decker said, “A frightened, young kid alone in a foreign country. A yeshiva is a perfect sanctuary.”

“What does that mean?” The man was offended.

“All my husband meant was that the boy may be in trouble. He’s probably seeking Hashem for guidance.”

“Do you know Dov Yalom?” Decker said.

“Not at all.”

Too fast a response? Decker studied the young man. “Dov Yalom’s parents were murdered. He ran away because someone scared him away. It’s imperative that we find him before someone else does.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I think the boy’s in danger. And frankly, anyone who’s keeping him might be in danger as well.”

The man stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. “Who exactly are you two?”

Decker peered into the face. “Has someone else been asking for Dov Yalom, sir?”

“No.” Again, he spoke too quickly. “I think I should call the police.”