Faye Kellerman - Sanctuary

“Peter,” Rina whispered. “It’s probably room service.”

He let out a big laugh. Mr. Paranoid! Still, he wasn’t taking any chances. He chained the door before he opened it and insisted that Rina duck out of sight. Better to feel silly than sorry.

It was room service-a waiter named Mohammed. Decker signed the bill but gave the young man a cash tip. Apparently, it was generous because Mohammed grinned, sporting a clear view of his gold front tooth.

Rina ritually washed her hands, then bit into her sandwich. She was ravenous and it was delicious. Decker sipped his Scotch, noticing that Rina was gulping her wine. She was more nervous than he had ever seen her. Didn’t stop her intellect. Matter of fact, it heightened it.

She said, “We really should go to Jerusalem. That’s where the two big ba’alei tshuvah yeshivas are. Milligan’s there. And so are the national police headquarters located at French Hill.”

Decker wiped his mouth. “Then let’s do it.”

Rina finished her sandwich. “Peter, you said that the boys fled shortly after they came home from school. What caused them to run away? The house hadn’t been trashed, had it?”

Decker shook his head no.

“So from the boys’ perspectives,” Rina went on, “they just walked in their front door and saw that their parents weren’t home. Why would the boys have taken off?”

Another very good question. If the boys weren’t involved, how did they know something was amiss. He said, “The only thing I can think of is that the parents left them a sign.”

“A sign?”

“A signal of some sort.” Decker thought out loud. “Arik knew that Milligan had a lot to gain if she could get hold of his stocks. Maybe he knew she was capable of doing some pretty ruthless things to further her ambition. So he was worried. He told his sons that if they ever came home and saw such-and-such picture was crooked, or if such-and-such lamp-”

Decker suddenly stopped talking.

“What?” Rina asked.

Decker’s eyes were on Rina, but his mind was elsewhere. “Or if a certain porcelain dog was turned around…” He wagged his finger in the air. “If you see that damn dog in the open shelf in the entry hall turned around, you go grab the money I left hidden for you in the inside mezuzah, you go grab your passports, and you get out of town immediately!”

His focus returned to Rina.

“There was a porcelain dog sitting in Yalom’s entry hall facing backward. It would have been a very easy thing for Arik Yalom to do. Just a simple flick of the wrist on his way out the front door. The boys saw it and fled.”

“They must be terrified.”

“I’m sure they are.” Suddenly, Decker pulled his wife into an embrace. “I love you so damn much!”

“I like it when you’re passionate.”

“That’s not passion, baby, that’s relief.” Decker blew out air. “Let’s go find the boys.”

Decker opened the door, then turned to his wife. “By the way. Did I mention that Honey Klein’s probably in Israel?”

Rina stopped in her tracks. “What? She’s here? You can’t just drop that on me, Peter!”

Decker slipped his arm around Rina’s shoulder and scooted her out the door. “Tell you all about it on the ride over to Jerusalem.”

Rina looked out to a grove of sunflowers, stalks bending under the weight of their fruit, black faces with golden manes craning their necks toward the sunlight. Her eyes stared out the window, but her mind was on other things. She couldn’t believe that Honey Klein had set out to murder her husband. The police and their conclusions just didn’t square with the girl Rina had known, the woman and mother who had visited their home.

She faced her husband. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it.”

Decker said, “Honey was trapped. As long as Gershon refused to give her a Jewish divorce-a get-she couldn’t go on with her life. She couldn’t see her way out of the relationship, so she took matters into her own hands.”

“Honey would not kill her husband.”

“And why not? Jews aren’t immune to abject despair that leads to immoral acts.”

“You think she could live with herself and with her children, knowing that she purposely murdered their father?”

“How about if the father was abusing the kids?”

A horn honked from behind, a flash of lights in the rearview mirror. Peter glanced over his shoulder, then looked at the speedometer. “I’m going over a hundred kilometers. What the hell does he want from me?”

“Just let him pass.”

“Jerk.” Decker pulled to the side and let a red Honda speed by. “I wish I had my unmarked…pull out the light and flash the mother. Man, I’d love to give him a ticket.”

“He wasn’t, you know.”

“Who wasn’t? What are you talking about?”

“Gershon Klein. He wasn’t physically abusing the children.”

Decker’s attention was still focused on the obnoxious driver. He turned to Rina. “How do you know?”

Rina blew out air. “Because I asked her.”

“When was this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We never had time to talk about it. I was going to tell you, but then Honey disappeared. You were preoccupied with this big murder case. I didn’t want to disturb your concentration. I thought about it on the plane ride but you slept the whole way-”

“You slept. I didn’t sleep a wink. Too busy being serenaded by fifty throat-cracking adolescents singing Crash Test Dummies songs in Spanish.”

“Well, for whatever reason, we didn’t talk.”

Decker said, “You specifically asked Honey if Gershon was abusing the kids?”

“Yes.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said something like…” Rina sighed. “Oh boy, here goes. She said she’d kill him if he ever did that-”

“Oh boy is right!”

“No, Peter, it wasn’t like that. You’re taking her words out of context. She went on to say that Gershon had been a good man and a wonderful father-”

“Yeah, she was friggin’ in love with the guy. That’s why she was trying to divorce him.”

“She was cognizant of his problems. She knew he wasn’t…how did she put it…he wasn’t meant for organized life anymore.”

Decker said, “The woman did him in, Rina. Trust me on this one.”

Another honk from behind. Decker yanked the wheel to the right and allowed the Camry to pass. “I’m Jewish and they’re pissing me off. I could only imagine what a goy would think.”

“It’s a young country.”

“It’s in its late forties.”

“That’s a country in its teens. And like lots of adolescents we know and love, it has no manners. Give it time.”

“What were we talking about?”

“Gershon Klein.”

“Did Honey happen to mention to you that she was trying to divorce the guy?”

“No-”

“Yeah, she conveniently forgot that.”

“I think one of the kids walked in.”

The car began to balk as it made its climb through the mountains, toward Jerusalem. The air was clean and filled with the tang of pines.

“Peter, does it make sense for Honey to murder Gershon by drowning him in a bathtub?”

“It was probably the most effective weapon she had in the house.”

“Then why would she bother to shoot him, drag him over to his office, then trash the place to make it look like a robbery?”

Decker was quiet. “I haven’t worked that part out yet.”

Another blast from a horn. This time it was a woman who passed him. Equal opportunity rudeness. Decker said, “Why do they have a stupid law like that on the books?”

Rina turned to him. “What are you talking about?”

“Why can’t a woman file for a Jewish divorce? The law is so damn archaic as well as sexist. It’s unfair enough to raise even your underdeveloped feminist hackles.”