16

If anything seemed to fit, it would have been a drug deal that went sour. But then why would Ephraim take Shayndie with him, putting her in danger? Could the man have been that cowardly to use a young girl as a screen? And then there was Raisie, warning him that his investigation could be endangering Shayndie. That told Decker that Chaim was sitting on something. He considered calling up Novack, going over some ideas with the detective. But what if Raisie were right? If his probing lessened Shayndie’s chances even fractionally—well, then, what choice did he really have?

Maybe the girl had gotten away and was in hiding. Maybe she had contacted her parents but was tentative about coming home. Or maybe there was another reason for her disappearance. Maybe she was pregnant and the whole thing about her being with her uncle was just an alibi. Maybe she was holed up in some home for wayward girls, and maybe Chaim didn’t want Decker finding that out.

Maybe Decker’s imagination was swirling out of control.

Drug dealers usually like to prove a point. Yet this time the kill was done at the hotel, with no evidence of torture.

Clean hit. Donatti’s M.O.

The plane was due to take off tomorrow night at six. By then, it would no longer be Decker’s business. Perhaps he should start having a good time right now. He was taking the entire family out to a very popular kosher steak house, and then afterward, he and Rina would go hear the Harley Mann Quintet at one of the hotels. Initially, Rina felt squeamish about going. How could she go out and have a good time when the Liebers were suffering?

“If being miserable would help them, I’d agree with you. But right now, the best thing we can do for us—you and me—is to try to appreciate our own lives and have a little fun,” Decker argued.

Rina certainly had no comeback for that. Maybe a couple of glasses of wine would put her in a festive mood. At this point, he felt as if he could drink an entire bottle by himself.

He was supposed to meet the crew at six. He arrived twenty minutes early. At five to the hour, Decker spied three-quarters of his progeny—Sammy, Jacob, and Hannah—walking up the street. Two good-looking young men and a squirt—all of them with their entire lives ahead of them. God, just let them be well. Decker felt that instant jolt of parental alarm but quelled it. Then he gave himself a psychic pat on the back for a job well done.

Hannah skipped over to him and took his hand. She was wearing a denim skirt and a green sweater, her red curls bouncing over her shoulders. “Where’s Eema?”

“She’s meeting us here.” Decker bent down and kissed the top of her head. “How was the museum?”

“Very good,” she replied. “I liked the whale.”

“The whale was cool.” Jacob was rolling a carry-on bag. “Very big.”