Steady, steady!

“Okay…” He caught his breath. “Okay, here’s the deal. If we’re going to sort this out, we’ve got to lay it all out in the open. But nothing—and I mean nothing—goes beyond the van!”

No one spoke. Cars continued to speed by, front bumpers perilously close to the van’s rear end. Decker grumbled, “We should get off the shoulder before we get hit.”

“In a minute.” Jonathan raked his beard with his fingernails, breathing hard. “Okay. It stays between the two of us. Who was Shayndie staying with?”

It took a few moments for Decker to get the name out. “Christopher Donatti.”

Jonathan’s expression was stunned. “Christopher Dona—”

“Ever hear of him?”

“Of course, I’ve heard of him. His father’s trial was front-page news for six months! What the hell was she doing with him? What the hell were you doing with him?”

“I’ll answer your second question first. When Ephraim’s murder scene was examined, one of the cops mentioned that the hit looked like Donatti’s work, but probably wasn’t—too low level and too sloppy. But having nothing else to go on, I went to see him.”

“You went to see Christopher Donatti?”

“Yes, I went to see him.”

“Just like that?”

“If you let me explain—”

“You went to see a hit man!” Jonathan was agitated. “Not just any hit man. You went to call on one of the most notorious criminals in mob history whose father ran the New York Family for over fifteen years? And for what reason?”

“Could you get the sarcasm out of your voice. It’s pissing me off.”

Jonathan looked away. “I’m just… speechless.”

Silence.

“I apologize for my rudeness,” Jonathan whispered.

Decker said, “S’right. I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. I assume you were trying your best.…” Jonathan blew out air, then wiped his smudged glasses with his handkerchief. “Why did you go to see Donatti if you suspected him of killing Ephraim?”

“I didn’t suspect Donatti because the cops didn’t suspect him.” Decker became morose. “I went for help, Jonathan. Donatti and I had a past history together. I thought he might be a good source of information.…” Decker hit the dashboard. “It was asinine! I’m a stupid schmuck, okay?”

“You’re not a schmuck, and you certainly aren’t stupid.” Jonathan sighed. “Who knows what drives our actions? We think we do, but we don’t. God is behind everything and He may have had His reasons.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“I’m certainly in no position to judge, am I?”

No one spoke as cars continued to speed by.

Decker continued. “I saw Donatti a few times. He told me he had her.”

“What does that mean?”

“Donatti collects runaway kids—strays. Young girls and gay boys with nowhere else to go. He uses them… pimps them—”

“Oh my God! Did he—”

“No, no. He didn’t pimp her. She hadn’t been with him long enough. He had picked up Shayndie over the weekend… before I got to him. But he didn’t tell me right away. We had to play this little cat-and-mouse game first. That’s how it’s always been between us—head games. Later on, he told me he had her. He said he told me as a favor so I wouldn’t worry about her and I could concentrate on Ephraim’s murder. At the time, I thought he was being truthful, but you can’t tell with psychos. The man is a stone-cold killer and a pathological liar. You work with whatever you can get.”