Cover

PROLOGUE

IT TOOK ABOUT fifty phone calls, but the family finally decided on a place to eat dinner before Decker and Rina took off for Israel from Kennedy. Decker looked around the table at their truly blended family: Rina’s two grown sons, Jacob and Sammy; his adult daughter, Cindy; their baby daughter, Hannah, who now had a baby of her own; and their foster son, Gabe. There were also three spouses, two fiancées, and five grandchildren. He and Rina had done well. Even if he died tomorrow, Decker would go out a winner.

As usual, the conversation turned lively, then loud. Adults shouting, children interrupting, along with the usual spillages and meltdowns. Right before the entrées arrived, the server came over with two big bottles of rosé champagne and flutes.

“Who ordered this?” Rina asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Group effort.” Jacob stood up and gently tinkled the glass with a fork. “Now that we’re all here, I propose a toast to the happy couple. May they find peace and solitude on this trip to the Holy Land, and may their construction plans go easily. L’chaim.”

“L’chaim,” everyone echoed.

“One more thing.” Jacob held out two envelopes to his stepfather. “For you two. A small gift for all your long sufferings with the clan.”

“This better not be money,” Rina said.

“It’s not money.” Cindy smiled. “Open it.”

Decker complied and pulled out two business-class tickets to Israel, then showed them to Rina.

Rina said, “What did you guys do?”

“Go in peace and go in style,” Sammy said.

“This must have cost a fortune.”

“Not so bad between all of us. We just upgraded your original tickets.”

“Unfortunately, we couldn’t get seats together for the outbound at this late date,” Hannah said, “but you’re together for the return flight.”

“Wow, thank you, children. It makes the trip even more exciting.” Decker held up his champagne flute. “A toast to all of you.”

Just then Gabe’s phone rang. He looked at the screen. The number was blocked. No doubt it was his father. Chris often used burner phones, although he had a regular phone with both burner and hush features. But that was just Chris. Nothing with him was ever consistent.

“L’chaim,” Gabe said. “I’ve got to take this.” He stood up and walked out of the restaurant. The street noise wasn’t much quieter, but at least his ears weren’t ringing from little kids screaming. “Hey.”

Breathing on the other end. Gabe almost hung up, except it wasn’t perverted breathing. It was labored. “Hello?”

“You’ve gotta … get me.”

A woman struggling to talk. Confusion and then the lightbulb. Gabe’s heart started racing. “Mom?” No response. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Yes.” She was crying. “They took Sanjay … Juleen … They’re gone. I’m … dying.”

“Mom, where are you?”

“L.A.”

“Where in Los Angeles?”

“Valley.”

“Mom, call 911.”