Faye Kellerman - The Ritual Bath

Rina took the proffered card.

“Thanks Matt. He’ll be thrilled.”

“Tell the little guy I’m still working on the few more that we’ve discussed.”

“I will.”

“You know, I’m free this Thursday night. If you’d like me to take him to a game, I wouldn’t mind. He’s been wanting to go for a long time.”

“He has Computer Club.”

“So let him skip a week. Steve won’t mind. I know Sammy would have a ball.”

“Not this week, Matt. Some other time.”

Baring his teeth and mimicking Dracula, Hawthorne said, “Don’t you trust me?”

Rina gave him a sick smile.

“We’re late, Matt,” she said.

Hawthorne held the door open for her.

“After you.”

His courtliness rubbed her the wrong way. But she lowered her eyes: quietly said, “Thank you.”

Something was going on outside the mikvah.

She’d been hearing things for days, now, and had grown sufficiently edgy to have Zvi Adler or some of the other kollel men walk her home.

Tonight the sounds seemed closer. The crackling of twigs, dull noises that could have been footsteps. It had been going on for the last ten minutes, but there was still a half hour’s worth of work to do. She was sick of being frightened by shadows, terrorized by a phantom that lacked the courage to show its monstrous face in the daylight. She wanted this ogre captured and felt her fear turn to rage.

She grabbed up the phone receiver and called Foothill Division. Decker’s extension rang twelve times before she finally gave up. She stared at his home number pinned on the wall. He’d said feel free to use it, but the pangs of anger had abated, and she was hesitant about intruding upon his privacy.

The footsteps outside returned, louder. She acted.

He picked it up on the third ring.

“Peter? It’s Rina Lazarus.”

“Are you calling to rescind your restraining order?” he joked.

“Peter, I’m at the mikvah. There’s someone outside.”

“Is everything locked?” His voice turned serious.

“Yes. The windows and doors are all bolted shut. But I’m scared stiff.”

“Rina, it’ll take me about fifteen minutes to get there. If you really feel endangered, don’t wait for me. Call up one of the yeshiva boys-”

“No, that’s okay. I’m all right. Just get down here as soon as you can.”

“Bye.”

After hanging up, she forced herself to do the laundry. There was a light load tonight, but it took the same amount of time to wash a light load as a heavy one. The same amount of time waiting .

She slammed the washer lid shut and looked around for something that could be used for protection. Just in case. The only objects that looked remotely lethal were a blow dryer and a curling iron. She imagined using the iron on the intruder’s genitals and felt better for a moment.

She paced aimlessly and heard a rattling at the door. Someone was trying to get in. Her heart began pounding wildly. She reached for the phone, but the sound disappeared. Gripping the receiver, she listened to the dial tone, then hung up.

Peter should be here any second. Don’t panic. Stay cool. You can’t always be dependent on someone else for protection. You have to use your own head.

Silence. Then the washer gurgled, and she jumped. She’d loaded the machine with too much soap, and the tub was frothing with bubbles. Damn it! The towels would probably have to be rinsed a third time.

Vowing to herself to retain control, she plopped into the armchair and picked up a sheaf of math papers. The numbers and symbols danced in front of her eyes, suddenly foreign. She didn’t know what any of it meant. Just numbers and letters and funny Greek signs.

Calm. Stay calm. These were senior papers…This had to be calculus…She’d been teaching the seniors integrals. That Greek symbol was a summation sign. Slowly she relaxed, and the papers became comprehensible again. She picked up her red pen and began to grade.

A minute later she heard a loud, confident knock that startled her and caused the pen to skid across the paper. But she knew who it was.

“Who is it?” she asked, just to make sure.

“It’s Peter, Rina. Open up.”

She recognized the voice and opened the door.

“Am I glad to see you,” she said spontaneously.

“Ditto,” he smiled.

She blushed. “I didn’t mean that as a-”

“I know you didn’t. I’m just trying to lighten you up. You look terrified.”

“I am…I was. Did you look around outside?”

“Not yet. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I’m coming with you.”

He shook his head.

“Uh uh. If something’s going on, you’re much safer inside.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who feels vulnerable, waiting alone and hearing noises.”

“I’ll be close by.”

“You’re not going to search in the bushes?”

“If need be, but-”

“I want to come with you, Peter.”

“What will the neighbors say?” he grinned, moving toward the door with long strides.

“ Pekuach nefesh . The saving of a life takes precedence over everything in Judaism.” She looked upward. “Forgive me if I improvise a little.”

“Come on. We’re wasting time. Stay close,” he said.

“That sounds fine to me.”

They walked outside into a gust of warm air. Westerly winds had cooled the valley but had also brought a plague of gnats. Goddam bugs gnawed at your flesh, Decker cursed to himself, slapping. Turning on a high-beam flashlight, he swept it over the brush and the pathway. Frowning, he began to walk slowly and deliberately toward the woods. Rina kept slightly behind him and to his left.

“See anything unusual?” she asked.

His ears perked up. “Hear that?”

She shook her head. “What is it?”

“I think you’re right,” he whispered. “Something’s going on out here.”

“Why?”

“Look here. Footprints leading to the forest. Sounds. Breathing. Not like any animal I know.” He turned to Rina. “I don’t want you out here with me. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind a back-up. Go back in the mikvah and call the police. When you get through say, ‘Code Six.’”

“Walk back alone?”

“It’s less noisy that way.” He took out his gun. “I’ll cover you. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and flush out the son of a bitch.”

“That sounds peachy,” she said with an edge in her voice.

“All right,” he said, “I’ll walk you back. Let’s not waste anymore time on it.”

“No, I can handle myself. Just make sure I’m inside before you take off.”

“Flash the lights twice when you’ve bolted the door.”

“Be careful out there, Peter.”

She started back and was almost at the door when she saw the figure coming. Before she had a chance to react, she heard Peter scream, “Police! Freeze!” Rina threw herself to the ground but could make out a silhouette swiveling toward Peter’s voice and taking aim. She heard a burst of loud popping noises coming from all directions, then saw the figure make a dash for the woodlands.

“You okay?” shouted the detective already moving.

“Yes!”

“Get the hell inside and change the police call to a Code Three! I’m going after him.” He was off.

She sprang to her feet, ran into the mikvah, and locked herself inside. She dialed the station and was amazed at her calmness in relating the story, going through the motions mechanically. But once she got off the phone she began to shake uncontrollably. Minutes later she heard footsteps followed by more banging at the door.

She opened it.

There were a dozen policemen. Overhead, a helicopter rumbled like a giant locust, turning night to morning with its spotlight. She squinted and returned her gaze to the officers, looking for a familiar face. She found two: the big blonde, Marge, and the fat detective. They jogged toward her.