“My family’s origins are Jewish. But that doesn’t mean that I know Hebrew. It’s like assuming every Italian knows Latin.”

Decker was taken aback. “Your family’s Jewish?”

“No, my family is not Jewish. We’re humanists with ancestry in the Jewish race.”

The Jewish race—a Nazi buzz phrase.

“I don’t want to repeat myself,” Jaime stated bluntly, “but what is going on?”

Decker said, “Did you listen to the news this morning, Dr. Dahl?”

“Of course.”

“Then you must know that a local synagogue was broken into and vandalized. I was down there. Most of the damage was ugly, but it can be repaired. The one thing that was reported stolen was a silver benediction cup.”

Jaime looked at Ernesto, then at Decker, who held up the cup. “This family heirloom is inscribed with the words ‘Beit Yosef.’ That’s the name of the vandalized synagogue.”

“It’s a family heirloom,” Ernesto insisted. “We’re doing a family history. A family tree for honors civics. Dr. Dahl is aware of this assignment. Back me up on this one, Doctor.”

“There is a family-tree assignment in honors civics—Dr. Ramparts.”

“Yeah. Third period.” Ernesto rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “I brought this in specifically to illustrate my family’s past, and to give Dr. Ramparts a more…genuine feel for where I came from. I’m sure there is more than one Beit Yosef in the world.”

The kid was oh so cool. And he probably thought he was pulling it off. Never mind about the beads of sweat that dotted his upper lip. “I’m sure there are, Mr. Golding. Even so, you’re coming with me.”

“I want a lawyer.”

“That can be arranged.”

They took him to Dr. Williams’s office, Decker standing over Ernesto’s shoulder as the kid called his parents—Jill and Carter Golding. Decker could hear outraged voices on the other side of the line. He couldn’t discern much, but he did hear them instruct Ernesto to refrain from talking to anyone. From that point on, things moved quickly.

Mom made it down in six minutes. She was a pixie of a thing with pinched features and thin, light brown hair that was long, straight, and parted in the center. She wore rimless glasses and no makeup. Behind the specs, her eyes were smoldering with anger that only a parent knew how to muster. First, there were a few choice glances thrown in Decker’s direction. The stronger ones were reserved for her son. Decker knew what that was about.

Dad arrived about ten minutes later. He was short and thin. The eyes were dark and most of the face was covered with a neatly trimmed brown beard flecked with silver. He appeared more befuddled than angry. He even shook hands with Decker when introduced. Ernesto didn’t resemble either of his parents, leaving Decker to wonder if the boy had been adopted.