“No, I’m …” Decker reached the door and knocked. “It’s me. You want your phone back?”

From behind the door, Donatti told him no.

“What about your gun?”

A moment passed and then the door opened. Chris stared at him with an open palm. Decker retrieved the gun and gave it and the phone to him. Donatti put the gun in his holster. He said, “I’ll get you some bedding.”

“It’s not necessary—”

But Donatti was already out the door.

Rina said, “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Decker asked. “Sad for the kids and Gabe, but otherwise okay.” He paused. “How do we plan a funeral?”

“I can do it,” Rina told him. “I’ve done enough of them in my time.”

“They’ve all been Jewish.”

“I don’t suppose there’s that much difference.”

“She was Catholic. It’s usually open casket. And then there’s a wake.”

“I can do a wake,” Rina said. “But I’ll try to talk him out of open casket. It’s a horrible thing to do to the kids. To see their mother like that …”

“Unless he burns the bitch.”

“He’s just ranting because the alternative is too dark for him to face. Whatever he does, it’ll be solemn.”

Donatti came in later with bedding. He turned on the lights. “When are you two going back?”

“Peter wants to make sure that Talia’s properly charged.” No comment from him. Rina sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I think we’ll stay until after the funeral.”

Donatti dropped the bedding on the couch. “Suit yourself.” He headed toward his office. He stopped and turned to Rina. “You’ll take care of it for me?”

Rina said, “Of course I will, Chris.”

“Can you take care of Devek also? He wants to come. I think he wants to say his good-byes, but he also has to pick up the kids.”

“I’ll call him. Do you have his phone number?”

“I do.” Chris sighed. “He asked about cremation. It’s part of his culture. I told him it’s a possibility, but I don’t know yet. Terry’s Catholic. I’m Catholic. I don’t know if that would be respectful of her wishes.”

“What do you want?” Rina asked.

“I want to go to sleep and never wake up again.”

Decker said, “Maybe you should give me the gun back.”

Donatti said, “I have more than thirty pistols, semiautomatics, rifles, and shotguns in a safe in my bedroom. One Glock is not going to make a difference if I wanted to blow my brains out.” A pause. “I’ll see you in the morning. You want lights off?”

“Please,” Rina said. Once shrouded in darkness, she said, “I guess I’d better get to it tomorrow. I’ll start calling around to funeral homes.”

“What do you need from me?”