Except that Rina still ascribed to this outmoded concept of modesty as dated as Mayberry, USA. Over the last ten years, he guessed he had become an old-fashioned guy, and outmoded was just fine by him.

As requested, Buffy gave them a hidden booth in the corner, away from the flesh display, more like a peep show from where they were sitting.

“I’ll get you the coffee, Detective.”

And she did… right away. “Anything else?”

“Jon?”

The rabbi shook his head, keeping his eyes off Buffy’s ample bosom.

“A bagel if you have it,” Decker answered.

“We have a bagel, lox, and cream cheese platter.”

“That’s fine. And I’d also like a cup of ice and a napkin.”

Buffy nodded. “Does it hurt?”

“Not too bad.”

“I’ll place the order and get you the ice,” Buffy said. “Ambrosia will be your server.”

“Thank you.” When she was gone, Decker said, “Where do they come up with these names?”

Jonathan attempted a smile, but his eyes were glued to Decker’s bruises.

Decker ignored the unstated question mark. “When I worked Sex Crimes, I used to come to places like this all the time. Sleazier places, actually. Real down-and-dirty stuff. The girls were older, much more shopworn, perfect fodder for psycho bullies who liked to punch and rape. It was very sad.”

Jonathan nodded.

“These girls look healthier.”

“But for how long?” Jonathan asked. “They’re all under twenty-five, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

“It’s only a matter of time before their looks go. Then what?”

“Well, if they haven’t sucked it up their veins or blown it up their noses, they might be okay. There’s money to be made here. It’s not as if they lost their opportunities to become rocket scientists.”

Buffy came back with the ice and napkin. “I have some aspirin.”

Decker reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of Advil. “Thank you, but I’m fine.” He poured the cubes into the napkin and placed them on his face.

“What happened?” Jonathan finally asked.

“Some street psycho took an instant dislike to me.”

“That’s awful!” A hesitation. “He just punched you?”

“I probably shouldn’t have made eye contact. At least, he didn’t jab any lethal bacteria up my veins.”

“Good Lord, don’t say that!” Jonathan shook his head, rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “I am so sorry. Are you in pain? I could probably get you a prescription for something stronger.”

“I’m fine. How bad is it?”

“You haven’t looked in a mirror?”

“I’ve avoided it.”

“The entire right side of your face is reddish purple.”

“I’ll just tell people I got hit in the face with a blueberry pie.”

“This is all so horribly depressing!”

“We’ve both had better days… better years.” Decker poured two cups of coffee. “Anyone say how she died?”

“She was shot.” Tears in his eyes.

“Where?”

He shuddered. “Why?”

“I’m just curious to see if there are any similarities to Ephraim’s murder.”

“I would think it’s a given—the same people who murdered Ephraim murdered Shayndie.”