Laura Lippman - By A Spider's Thread

She carried the clothes to the car, taking two trips. She would have liked to stop at the Dairy Queen for a shake, or even a hot dog, but Zeke would make her account for the money she spent. Not because, like Moshe, he didn't trust her, but because they had so little. For now. He swore they would have plenty of money soon.

She checked under the front seat and made sure the box that Amos had given her was still there. Funny, but Zeke wouldn't use it. Even when working, he wanted no part of it. He had a knife, but he never unsheathed it. He said she was a fool, using up precious dollars for something they didn't need, but it made her feel safer. She tied the string back around the box, making sure it was knotted tight. It would be a tragedy for the twins to find it, or even Isaac, prudent as he was. She knew from her own father how the mere fact of having a gun at hand could wreck so many lives.

Although, in the long run, it had saved hers. She wouldn't be where she was now, on the verge of finally being happy, if it weren't for her father's mistakes, if he hadn't killed a man and ended up in prison, where he met Zeke, and then Zeke found her. You could even say a man had sacrificed his life so Natalie might realize her destiny. More proof, as if she needed any, that she and Zeke were special, God's favorites, living by different rules from everybody else.

Mark Rubin's house was a starkly modern box of glass and stucco on a country-club street given to more traditional Tudor-style homes. Not the sort of place that Tess would choose, but she realized it was a good example of mid-twentieth-century architecture. Its design, within the context of its simply landscaped lot, had balance and dignity. But it was a discordant note on this suburban street, a prickly outsider.

Not unlike the man who lived inside.

"Bad news on my doorstep," he said when he saw Tess, and it was hard not to paraphrase "American Pie" back to him. Yes, and I don't want to take one more step .

"Neutral," she said, knowing that her information was anything but. "They were there, but they appeared to be passing through. The manager at the McDonald's remembered Natalie and the children. They're in an old green car, a sedan of some sort. At least one employee thought they had luggage on the roof when they pulled in."

"Where did she get an old green car? And why would they tie the luggage to the roof?" Tess understood why Rubin was seizing on these details, which were easier to grasp and dissect than the larger issues. "They can't have that much luggage. They hardly took anything, three suitcases total."

"There's more-"

"Luggage on the roof of a green car-this is all you found out? This is what you consider a result?"

It was hard trying to be solicitous of someone's feelings when the other person was not so considerate. But Tess was determined to break the news about the mystery man as gently as possible.

"There is more, but before I tell you everything Gretchen learned, I want to tell you something I found out from my Uncle Donald. He told me the true story of how you and Natalie met."

"And?"

"As I understand it, no Carvel stand was involved, not unless Jessup had a franchise."

Rubin looked angry and relieved at the same time, as if embarrassed by the lie but also glad to give it up. "Why don't you come in? We have much to talk about."

"I didn't tell you that story to mislead you," he said. "I told it out of habit, quite forgetting that your uncle knew the true circumstances."

"And how did you get in the habit of lying?" They were sitting in his office, a cozy, cluttered refuge from the sterile perfection of the other rooms she had seen, open expanses decorated in a minimalist style, with lots of birch-pale hardwoods, pastel upholstery, and modern art. Tess wondered how someone with three children could keep a house this pristine. Then she realized that Mark Rubin hadn't-Natalie Rubin had. Another reason to head for the hills. Tess could tell by the way Rubin used a coaster for his wineglass that his standards for housekeeping were exacting.

"Natalie and I agreed when we became engaged that we would have an official version of how we met and courted. It's easier, with a story, to always tell the same one."

"Yes, that is a good rule for liars." She didn't want to let him off the hook too easily.

"I won't argue semantics with you," Rubin said. His tone made it clear that he wouldn't argue only because it would slow him down, not because he wouldn't win. "There were already so many obstacles to Natalie's being accepted in my community. She was young, with only a high-school education. She had not been raised in the faith, although that is hardly her fault. And because she was vague about her family's background, she even agreed to be dunked."

"Dunked?"

"She went for instruction with the rabbi and did the mikveh. In some ways, her passion for our religion seemed stronger than that of some lifelong Jews I knew."

"Converts making the best adherents, et cetera, et cetera."

"Well, not strictly a convert, but I know what you mean. Her zeal was exceptional. At the risk of sounding egotistical, I thought it was bound up with her love for me. When we met, Natalie seemed to mink of nothing but pleasing me. She was… uncannily perfect, everything I wanted in a woman."

"Right down to the eighteen-year-old part?"

He blushed. "Matches between older men and younger women do make sense, biologically. I'm sorry if that fact offends you, but an eighteen-year-old woman is ready to marry and have children. Culture may have changed. Our bodies did not."

"Well, Sarah had a baby at ninety or something like that. Should I interpret that biblical story as evidence of the first surrogate, or did God do some in vitro?"

"An apt biblical reference. I admit to being surprised."

"I'm agnostic, not ignorant."

Pleased with herself, Tess took a sip of the kosher wine that Rubin had poured for her. The wine was quite good, a red blend from Chile. She was beginning to get a glimpse of the man her Uncle Donald had described. Rubin might be a pain as a client and a terror as a businessman, but he probably was excellent company in social situations. The books on his shelves indicated a worldly man, with a wide range of interests, and he clearly had a talent for the kind of verbal sparring Tess enjoyed.

Then again, how would Tess and Rubin have ever met under different circumstances? Ten miles apart in physical distance, they might as well have been in different galaxies. Their Baltimores barely intersected.

"You're not the first person, male or female, to snigger at my choice of a bride. And there was some animosity toward Natalie among the women in my congregation, women who have known me all my life, who took a special interest in me after my mother died. So you can see why I didn't want to give them additional ammunition. Yes, Natalie's father was in prison, and that's how I met her."

"My Uncle Donald said she sought you out to discuss her father's refusal to embrace his faith. But he also told me that Boris gave the impression of someone who was always running a game."

"Your uncle is astute. Boris was running a game-but on his daughter, not me. When Boris became aware of my relationship with Natalie, he attempted to blackmail her. Soon after we married, he coerced her into making deposits into an account in his name, a nest egg for when he's finally released from prison."

"Blackmail her? Over what?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I'm sure Natalie had her share of youthful indiscretions. She was a high-spirited girl who knew almost no parental supervision after her parents divorced. When I found out what her father was doing, I told her she must break off all contact with Boris." Rubin swirled the wine in his glass, studying it with an oenophile's critical eye. "That's the reason behind our financial system. I don't know what hold Boris had over Natalie, but she was clearly terrified of what he might tell me. I didn't want her to succumb to his extortion again."