He sneered. “Your idea?”

“How about tomorrow around noon? Please?”

Again he eyed me. Then he gave me the “smile.” I pretended to be looking the other way. When we reestablished eye contact, it was gone. “Yeah, okay.”

“You’re a peach, Detective.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Decker.”

“Don’t be mad. If I find something out, you’ll get all the credit.” On that positive note, I gave him a thumbs-up and walked away.

When I got home, there were two new messages—another one from Dad, and another from Hayley. I picked up the phone but thought better of it.

Instead, I turned on my computer and checked my e-mail. I saw his screen name sandwiched between an AOL discount special and LOW-RATE MORTGAGES FROM HOUSE EQUITY FUNDING. I wasn’t wild about electronic communication, but I was the one who had started it. I clicked on it.

Dear Cindy,

Doing a double shift. That is good. Better than thinking about the accident. Call you later.

Love, Koby

It was a rather curt e-mail, especially compared to my gushing phone calls. But he was probably dealing with life-and-death issues and didn’t have time for the niceties. So I wrote him back, again telling him how impressed I was with his swiftness of action. I wasn’t quite as effusive, but I was complimentary.

Maybe it would make him smile.

Maybe it would induce him to call.

22

This time, Decker was late. From down the aisle, he saw her in the corner booth, sipping coffee while reading the paper. From this distance, she looked so young and vulnerable. Maybe he just perceived her that way because she was his daughter. He took a deep breath, his heart skipping in his chest, and slapped a smile on his face. He slid into the booth on the opposite side.

“Sorry. Bad traffic.”

Cindy put the paper down and squeezed her father’s hand. “It’s fine. Just relaxing.”

“That’s good.”

“It’s rare these days.”

“You’ve been busy?”

“Always.”

“How’s Koby?” Decker asked.

“Fine.”

Immediately, he heard the catch in her throat. Feeling like an idiot, he quickly changed the subject. “Well, our Tuesday breakfast is turning out to be a ritual.”

“One that I like,” Cindy stated.

She was somber. That made him feel real low. One of these days, he’d disconnect from his kids. His heart felt heavy. “You doing okay, sweetheart? Must have been pretty traumatic witnessing the accident.”

She started to talk, thought better, and answered him with a nod.

“Traffic accidents in general are horrible. One of my most vivid memories in police work is a bad accident from twenty years ago. Just …”

Cindy regarded her father’s pained expression. “Did you witness it?”

“No …” Decker exhaled. “No, just the first unit to arrive at the scene. That was horrible enough. I couldn’t even imagine seeing it unfold. I don’t understand how you can be working.” He held up a finger to the waitress for coffee. “You’re much stronger than I am.”