“No … I’m okay.” I picked up my fork again. “But thanks.”

“Anything you want, my love. That is my motto.”

“Did you take your charm pills today, Koby?”

“With you, I don’t need them. It is all natural feelings.”

“That’s sweet.” I gave him a shy smile. “Really. I mean that, Yaakov. I feel the same way. I think you’re wonderful and sexy and brilliant … fun … just the best.”

He grinned. “It is you who takes the charm pills.”

“Yeah, I’m the one who needs them.” I laughed. “I wish a little of your smoothness would rub off on me.”

He took my hand. “You are not slick, Cynthia, but you are always sincere.” He kissed my fingers one by one, then gently swiped my nose with his index finger. “Eat.”

I speared another leaf of romaine, my eyes sweeping over his face. Again he was studying me, those long, luscious lashes sweeping over those magnificent pale whiskey eyes.

He really looked fine!

I nibbled on salad, but suddenly everything was tasteless. Who was I kidding?

Oh my God, I was sinking again.

I summoned the waiter, requesting our entrées to go, along with the check.

40

The coast of California is God’s kissed countryside from San Diego to the Oregon border—blue iridescent seas on one side, towering verdant mountain majesty on the other. Traveling north from Santa Barbara on 101, Decker couldn’t have asked for lovelier weather. It was in the low 70s with the sun playing peekaboo behind woolen tufts of crystalline clouds. As he turned east onto 234, going deep into the Santa Ynez Valley, the Porsche began to climb between granite walls of imperial rock and twist seamlessly through the winding canyons. The temperature dropped and a fine mist hovered above.

“Spectacular,” Rina whispered.

“Hannah’s getting bigger,” Decker answered. “We should really do this more often.”

“Yes, we should.” Rina adjusted the baseball cap on her head, enjoying the wind and sun on her face. “It’s nice to feel young.”

“Free,” Decker said. “We never had much of this.”

“I know. Instant family when we married. Poor you.”

“Not poor me,” Decker told her. “Rich me. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Still, you’ve got to find a balance. We shouldn’t have to use a project as an excuse to get away for a weekend. But since we did come up with a purpose, what is the game plan here?”

“I have a couple of questions about the murder, but if I don’t get to ask them, I’ll be fine.” Rina took in a deep breath and let it out. “It’s really all about my mother’s childhood. I don’t even care about the murder anymore. That was just the catalyst.”

“I’m thrilled to hear you say that. Basically, I think we should just let the ladies talk.” Decker took in a lung’s worth of pine-scented air. A minute later, they were off the freeway, the exit for Solvang putting them onto Mission Avenue, a two-way boulevard lined with imposing cedars, regal in size and wide in girth. For a few miles, they passed farm country and orchards, patches of foot-high baby avocado trees dotting the earth like plugs in a hair transplant. A hundred yards later, they drove by an ostrich ranch. No sign of the big beasts, but coming up from L.A., they had seen a genuine llama ranch, so Decker was sure the flightless birds were somewhere near.