A long, suffering sigh. “There were a few letters. I think I know where he hid them….” Karl got up. “But it could be that Ernesto took them to camp.”

“Why did Ernesto hide the letters?”

“Because my mother snoops. Ernie did drugs. It nearly did him in.”

“Literally?”

Karl nodded. “About a year ago, we found him unconscious one Sunday morning. It was a miracle that he survived. Up until that time, my parents were really on his case—study, study, study, study. Do this because it’ll look good on your college application, do that because it’ll look good. Ernie’s a bright guy. But these days being plain bright isn’t good enough. When Ernie OD’d, all hell broke loose. My parents were one step from sending him away to boarding school. Then suddenly, they eased up.” The boy snapped his fingers. “Their therapist probably told them to do it. They wouldn’t do anything without talking to the therapist. Even so, Ernie felt that they didn’t trust him. So he hid stuff. Mostly weed, but personal stuff, too.”

“Like the letters?”

Karl nodded. “I just can’t understand why Ernie was taken in by that bitch! I know sex was part of it. But Ernie had lots of girls. Why her?”

Because she was forbidden, dangerous, and Ernesto had been a rebellious boy. But Decker maintained silence. It seemed like the smartest option.

“I’ll be right back.” Karl walked off to his dead brother’s room. Ten minutes later he came back empty-handed. “Nothing. Sorry. I would have liked to help you nail her.”

“You think the letters might be at the camp?” Decker asked.

“Possibly.”

“Did he ever read you any of the letters?”

“Once or twice, Ernie read me parts—sexual stuff. Ruby thought she was this hip anarchist. She was loco!”

“Do you think she was behind the temple vandalism?”

“Probably.”

“Ernesto never mentioned any names to you after he vandalized the synagogue?”

“No.”

“How about names of Nazi or white supremacist groups?”

“No.”

“Does the group the Preservers of Ethnic Integrity sound familiar?”

A shake of the head.

“Erin Kershan?”

“No.”

“Darrell Holt?”

“Nope.”

“Ricky Moke?”

“No. Sorry.”

Decker said, “Do you know if Ernesto got involved in any supremacist groups maybe over the Internet?”

“I don’t know what he found or where he found it,” Karl said. “Ernie was my brother, but we’re very different.”

“Did he ever mention to you any of his motivation behind vandalizing the temple?”

“Motivation?”

“I’m thinking that maybe it was some kind of ritual needed to prove his dangerous side to his girlfriend?”

“Beats me.” Karl looked down. “After it happened, Ernie said, ‘Don’t ask!’ He was upset about it, though. I could tell that.”

“Did he say anything about being in danger?”

“No, not worried upset. Upset upset. He felt bad.”

“He told you he felt bad?” Decker asked.