“Your husband.” It was the one named Bernadette. She had a smooth, round face and a stern look. She rocked from side to side. She was as tall as she was wide. “The police lieutenant.”

It sounded as if she was holding his title against him; in light of the past allegations of his department, that could very well be the case. He held out his hand to her and she took it.

Decker said, “Nice of you to help out.”

“It was nice of Wanda to call them down,” Rina said.

“Our church has an outreach program to help,” Bernadette said. “No one should be able to get away with defaming a house of God.”

“I agree,” Decker said.

“We need to start something like that in our community.” Rina turned to her new friends. “It’s not that we’re so provincial, although that’s part of it. It’s just that we’ve been so busy trying to make this congregation work. We barely have enough time and money to get our own services in order. But that’s going to change. We have to get more involved.”

“This was an eye-opener to me,” Letitia said. Her face was long and she had a wide, horsey smile. “I always thought the Jews had the big synagogues.”

“Some do,” Rina said. “We sure don’t. We’re lucky to pay the rent.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s my own prejudice talking,” Letitia said. “I’d better stop yakking and get back to painting.” She smiled again. “Go with my strengths.”

“How about some more coffee?” Rina asked. “I need more coffee.”

Decker was happy to see Rina so charged up and filled with action. It helped mitigate the pain of why she was there in the first place. He said, “The way you’re flitting around, do you think you really need more caffeine?”

“I don’t flit, I move in a purposeful manner,” Rina explained.

Bernadette said, “She just appears to be flitting because she’s so graceful.”

“Uh-huh,” Decker said. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

Rina yelled out, “Moishe, we could use some fresh coffee.”

Moishe Miller—a big bear of a man—was standing in front of several folding tables piled high with shredded paper and abused books. At the moment, the bearded dentist was painstakingly piecing together torn bits from prayer books. “Reg or decaf?”

The women looked about the room, then at each other. “Full strength,” Rina ordered. To Decker, she said, “Are you going to help out? We took down all the bookshelves. We need someone to paint them and put them back up.”

“Yes, I’m going to help out. Jacob’s bringing over some junk clothes. I have a little more work to do, and then I’m all yours.”

“Good to have someone who knows what he’s doing. House painting is a lot harder than it looks. It’s not just slopping paint over the walls.”