Faye Kellerman - Sanctuary

Rina should be at her parents’ by now and Decker was ten minutes away. Picking up his radio mike, he called Marge.

“Are the uniforms still at the Yalom house?”

“Yes, of course. They’re waiting for you. What’s wrong? You can’t make it?”

“No, I’ll be there. I just wanted to make sure the place was secure. It may take me a while. There’s lots of traffic.”

“Where are you?”

“Still on the freeway. I’ve just finished with Honey Klein’s abandoned van. Nothing jumped out at me, but I don’t like it, Marge. Technically, it’s West LA’s case. But personally, it’s mine.”

“But you are going to call West LA, right?”

“Of course, just as soon as I get off the horn with you. What’s happening over there?”

“Kann is done with Dalia. Davidson brought in four guys to help me comb the hills. Nobody’s optimistic because of the rains. We’re concentrating around the base of the mountain. Maybe something washed down. When do you think you’ll make it to the Yaloms’ place?”

“Maybe an hour.”

“Then check in with me when you’re there.”

“Talk to you later.”

Decker broke the line with Marge and asked to be patched through to West LA. A Missing Persons case could be assigned to different details depending on the circumstances. If kids were involved, including teenage runaways, the file might go to Juvenile. If something nefarious was suspected, it could be routed into Homicide. Decker had to think about murder as an option considering the circumstances in New York.

West LA desk answered and Decker asked for Homicide. He spoke to a Detective Sturgis. As he related the details, he heard Sturgis groan. Everyone hated Missing Persons cases, especially when children were involved.

Decker pulled off the 10 Freeway at Robertson and headed north. “I’ve checked out the van thoroughly. As soon as I get back to my station house, I’ll write you up a formal report and fax it to you. I’ll go through the lady’s luggage as soon as I get home.”

“She’s still got her luggage at your place?”

“Yep. So either she left in a hurry or she wasn’t planning to leave at all. There’s not a lot for you to do at the moment. I just wanted to report the incident in case you found bodies.”

“You have some pictures you can fax me?”

“Not at the moment.” Decker gave Sturgis a physical description of the Kleins. “They’re ultra-Orthodox Jews. Their dress is pretty distinctive, should be pretty easy to spot if they’re wandering around lost.”

“And the lady and her kids were staying at your house?”

“Yeah, I’m Orthodox. Not like them but-not important.”

“Not important,” Sturgis said. “I’ll do a couple of passes through the area.”

“’Preciate it.”

“Are you going to call Manhattan?”

“If that’s all right with you.”

“It’s all right with me. It’s even all right with me if you want the entire case. The lady you described sounds like a wacko. You want to know my opinion of the situation?”

“You think she arranged her vacation around a hit on the husband. The thought crossed my mind, but I don’t think that’s the case. But if I’m wrong, the woman’s a psycho with balls. Of all the friends she could have visited, she opted for the one whose husband’s a homicide cop.”

“Psychos love to play games.”

“She wants to mess with my head, I can take it,” Decker said. “But not when there are kids involved.”

Sturgis said, “I hear you. Call me in a couple of hours. We’ll swap notes.”

Decker thanked him and hung up. His mind was on work, but his heart was on Rina. This time emotions ruled.

The flats of Beverly Hills, known as BH 90210, described a three-square-mile area where teardowns started at close to a million. Some of the houses were magnificent; others were so embarrassingly ordinary, Decker wondered what was the deal. The city itself had its own police force, its own mayor, its own fire department, and its own school system which was thriving because of a high residential and business tax base. The streets were well maintained-void of potholes-and tree-lined, the luxurious arbors being the pride of the city. Palm Drive hosted jacarandas, Maple was shaded by the boughs of camphor trees, but Elm, lo and behold, was flanked with elm trees.

The Eliases lived on Camden Drive in a three-bedroom, three-bathroom house that came with a pool but no Jacuzzi. A big minus for resale value, a real estate broker once told them. But the location was excellent and Rina’s parents, who had bought in twenty-five years ago, had netted a fine chunk of equity in their now pricey home. He parked the Plymouth under a magnolia tree and walked on a brick pathway up to the front door. Rina answered his knock. She brought her hand to her chest.

“It’s bad news about Honey?”

“It’s no news.”

Rina stepped aside to let him in. She looked pained. “Nothing at all?”

Decker shook his head. He looped his arm around his wife and they walked into the yellow-tiled kitchen. It was large in absolute terms, but gnat-sized by neighborhood standards which were: If the kitchen floor space couldn’t accommodate a full-sized catering truck and its crew, it was time to remodel.

“Where’s Hannah?” Decker asked.

“My parents took her and Ginger to the park. I think they could tell I was nervous. I wanted to be alone. Something’s terribly wrong.”

Again, Decker let go with a forced smile. “Hey, knowing your wacky friend, she and her kids could show up anytime.”

“You’re not optimistic.”

Decker didn’t answer. Instead he hugged her. “I love you. I just stopped by to tell you that.”

“You’re worried.”

“Concerned.”

Rina looked at her husband. “Honey said that Gershon had gone to Israel. But he was found murdered in New York.”

“Obviously, he didn’t go,” Decker said. “Either he lied to Honey about going. Or Honey lied to us.”

“Peter, what could she gain by lying to us?”

“If she was involved with his murder, she’d lie to throw us off track.”

“Peter, why would she be involved in his murder?”

“I’m not saying she is. I’m just speculating. By her own admission, she said the guy was acting weird. Maybe she was afraid of him.”

“So she’d divorce him, not kill him.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t divorce in that community like a big scarlet letter.”

“Not as big as murder.”

“All I’m saying, Rina, is that if she was involved, it would make sense for her to disappear, right?”

“That’s a big leap.”

“Maybe. But I’ve got to consider it. Especially since Honey was using an alias.”

“She was?”

“Barbara Hersh. Any idea why Honey might use that name?”

Rina raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know why she would use Barbara. Hersh is Honey’s maiden name.”

Decker nodded. “I should have thought of that.”

“Peter, maybe Honey’s using an alias because she’s scared that the people who murdered Gershon might come after her. Remember she spoke of strange phone calls.”

“Could have been a front.”

“Or maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she bolted with the children.”

“Then why come out here, Rina? Why not leave immediately. And why did she use an alias yesterday before Gershon was murdered.”

“Maybe she realized that Gershon was in deep, deep trouble. Maybe she decided that LA wasn’t far enough of an escape. So she went to Israel. Lots of places for her to hide there. All the black areas. Doesn’t that make sense?”

“Black areas?” Decker asked.

Rina smiled. “A semantic misinterpretation. Not black as in Afro-American, black as in black hat-the ultra-religious area. The Black Hatters-the Charedim-must make up at least a third of Jerusalem-Sanhedria. The Ramot. Har Nof. Sha’arey Chesid. Mea Sháarim…now that’s a good place to hide. The name literally means a hundred gates. It’s a labyrinth. Like a lot of Jerusalem, it’s filled with passageways and walls and gates that lead nowhere. The entire city was built on top of a dozen previous civilizations. So there’s a lot of underground structures-tunnels, viaducts, passageways. It’s a perfect place to take refuge.”