Garrett pushed over a yellow legal pad. “You want to write your story down for us? Then maybe we can talk to the district attorney and help you out.”

Martel regarded the paper and pen and then Garrett’s face. “All this talk about food…it’s way past lunch. I’m starvin’. I need something to eat.”

“Start writing and I’ll order in some food,” Diaz said.

“I don’t want jail shit,” Martel insisted. “I be heppin’ you out, I deserve a good lunch.”

“What do you want?” Garrett asked.

“All this talk about pancakes…” Martel shrugged. “How ’bout some pancakes?”

CHAPTER 36

DECKER HAD BEEN operating on casino time—protracted periods under artificial lighting without any sense of the passage of hours. He had arrived at County Jail at nine in the morning. By the time he was back in the West Valley, it was almost six, the sun still in the sky but the shadows long. His cell’s voice-mail box was full, and there was a stack of telephone pink message slips in his in-box.

After parking in the lot at the station house, he had entered through the back door, winding his way through the halls to get to his private space. The door to his office was open, the light was on, and a wonderful aroma was wafting into the squad room. His desk had been covered with a red-checkered tablecloth and set with paper plates and plastic utensils. Rina was sitting in his chair, absorbed in a novel.

“Good book?” he said.

She looked up. “Very good.” She stood up and kissed his cheek. “I was in the mood for a picnic.”

“We’re indoors.”

“We can open a window and pretend.”

Decker smiled and drew his wife into his arms. “You don’t know how wonderful this is. I’m starved.”

“Then shall we dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business?”

“Absolutely.” Decker drew up a chair on the opposite side of the desk. “What have we?”

Rina opened a picnic basket. “Corned beef on rye or chicken salad on whole grain?”

“One of each.”

She handed him two wrapped sandwiches. “I have cucumber salad, Waldorf salad—”

“Just set them on the desk and stick a fork in it.”

“Will do.”

Decker wolfed down the corned beef, then helped himself to the salads. “Where’s Hannah?”

“In a study group. She told me that she spoke to you last night.”

“I did.”

“She said you two had a nice discussion.”

“Interesting. It’s hard to tell if she enjoys my company or finds me annoying.” He looked up from his sandwich. “I feel like I’m a litmus test. Depending what kind of mood she’s in, I’m either way too acidic or way too basic.”

Rina laughed. “How was your day?”