Faye Kellerman - Prayers for the Dead

Strapp pondered the words. Slowly, he asked, “Does she know him well?”

“Well enough to be at Azor Sparks’s memorial service.”

“She went at the priest’s behest?”

“Yes, although they haven’t been in contact for years. At one time, they were good friends.”

“Romantically involved?”

Decker started to smile because the thought struck him as ludicrous. An Orthodox woman like Rina with anyone, let alone a priest. Instead, he thought a moment and decided to frown instead. There had been an intimacy between them-that swift glance. Decker knew a strong bond had been forged because Bram had moved into her life at a very crucial time. But how strong?

A good-looking man selflessly nursing his dying friend through the terminal stages of his illness, comforting the friend’s beautiful wife with perfect words: about how there were reasons for everything and having faith in God…

An adulterous relationship was out of the question. Rina would never have permitted it no matter what the circumstances might have been. But what had happened between them after Yitzchak had died…well, Decker wasn’t as certain as he should have been. Because gentile or no gentile, passionate feelings often superseded convention. His memory tape did an instant rewind as he thought about how willingly Rina had accepted the raised eyebrows in her own community when she had dated and married him.

Which was probably why Decker had reacted so strongly to Rina at the Sparkses’ reception. Yes, his wife’s involvement could mess up his case. But equally as upsetting to Decker was his lack of knowledge about Rina’s relationship with the priest. The whole thing made him feel squeamish.

He said, “I don’t think so. But I don’t know.”

“Did you ask her?”

“No.”

“Are you going to ask her?”

“No.” Decker glanced at a smiling Azor Sparks, then returned his eyes to Strapp. “As much as I want to continue on this case, I do have my priorities. I’m not about to create tension in my marriage. There are rumors that the priest might be gay. I don’t know if that’s true, either. That’s all irrelevant right now. What is important is simply…there was a personal connection between my wife and Sparks ’s son. What do you want me to do?”

Strapp sighed heavily. “Is he a suspect?”

“Not yet.”

“Any indication that he’d make a good suspect?”

“None so far.”

Strapp rested his elbows on the desk, made a teepee with his hands. “You’re a lieutenant one temporarily acting as a two. So your role in this homicide, as with all your Dees cases, is supervisory, right?”

“Yes. But occasionally I do get involved. Usually in the beginning when cases aren’t cut-and-dried.”

“Like this one.”

“Yes.”

“But once the case starts gathering its own momentum, you back off.”

“I leave the nuts and bolts to my detectives unless they have a specific problem, yes.”

Strapp considered the problem in silence. Then he said, “At the moment, I see no reason to yank you off. Tell you what. You make sure to run everything by me. And I’ll back you up if this should become an issue.”

“Sounds fair.”

“Also, we should set up regular meetings so something will be on the books. Let’s try to talk on a daily basis sometime in the afternoon.”

“Fine.”

“It’s good you told me.”

“Absolutely.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“Call me with updates then.” Strapp picked up the phone. “We’ll talk later.”

The exit line. Decker stood up and left.

“Paul was in debt,” Gaynor said. “I’m not talking a home mortgage or car payments. I’m referring to debt from personal bank loans.”

Decker ran his hand through perspiration-soaked red hair. Man, he was tired, his iron will demanding that his eyes stay open and his mind stay alert. But he knew he only had a few hours left before the brain shut down. Though it was only six in the evening, it felt two in the morning. “How deep was he in?”

“Three hundred fifty-thou give or take a few bucks.”

Oliver shot back in his seat and whistled. “My oh my!” He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “Is it my imagination or is it suddenly hot in here?”

“No, it’s hot.” Decker leaned back in his desk chair. “We’re a little cramped. Tom, you want to turn down the thermostat?”

Closest to the dials, Webster adjusted the temperature. A blast of cold air shot through Decker’s office. He leaned against the wall, slapped his notebook against his palm. “I wouldn’t even know how to start spending that kind of money.”

“Oh, I would,” Oliver said. “Spending is never the problem. It’s getting it. How’d Paul weasel a heavy bank loan like that?”

Gaynor shuffled through his stack of computer printouts. “One guess.”

Marge shifted her rear on a hard seat of plastic. “Dad co-signed.”

“Right.”

“How long has Paul had the loan?”

“Two years. At this point, it’s more like a revolving line of credit.”

“Secured loan?” Decker asked.

“Unsecured,” Gaynor said. “Higher interest but neither had to put up any collateral. Sparks’s credit and word were good enough.”

Martinez fanned himself with his notepad. “What’s the doctor worth?”

Gaynor consulted his papers. “He has over six accounts-three money markets with three different brokerage houses, one savings account, two checking accounts. By the rises and falls in the balances, the savings account is probably for household expenses. Balance around ten grand. Checking accounts…uh, first one looks like household expenses again. A balance of about two grand. Then he has one for business with a balance of around twenty grand.”

“That’s an awfully high balance for a checking account,” Marge commented.

“Yeah, I asked about that,” Gaynor stated. “Apparently, it’s not unusual. Doctors have high expenses.”

Martinez said, “Except New Chris was paying for everything. It’s not like Doc had equipment to buy or a payroll to meet.”

“Or even malpractice insurance.” Webster stood in front of the air-conditioning vent. “I b’lieve New Chris even paid for that.”

Gaynor shrugged. “I’m just giving you the facts.”

“What about the money markets?” Decker asked.

“With Levy, Critchen, and Goldberg…uh…” Gaynor shifted through reams of paper while all of them waited wordlessly. “Uh…here we go. He had around a half-mil in stocks, bonds, mutual funds, and cash.”

Decker said, “Levy et al. is Paul Sparks’s firm.”

“So he did banking with his son,” Marge said. “There must have been some kind of trust.”

“Up to a point,” Gaynor said. “Because with Kenner, Carson, Thomas, he kept more. About two and a half mil in assets, not counting his pension, which has another three million.”

Oliver said, “Shit, that man was rich!”

Marge said, “Emphasis on the was, Scotty.”

Oliver made a face. “Yeah, won’t do him much good now. Tom, stop hogging the vent. We’re dying here.”

Webster stepped away from the grille. “Sorry.”

“Doesn’t the money automatically go to the wife?” Martinez asked.

Gaynor stated, “I know his pension money does because I got hold of the beneficiary papers-don’t ask me how.”

Oliver said, “Isn’t half of the old man’s assets automatically owned by wifey because of community property?”

“There’s a lot of factors going on here,” Gaynor stated. “First, I think marital inheritance is exempted for estate taxes if the money was put inside a family trust…which it was. Which means there has to be a will somewhere. Because with trusts, there are always wills. And if there’s a will-”