Bone Box

by Faye Kellerman

  Instinctively, Carter backed away and looked at Rina. “Your husband will hear about this.” He turned around and slammed the door behind him. As soon as the car took off, Rina said, “Was it necessary to slap him that hard?”

  “No. I just enjoyed hurting him.” A pause. “I need coffee.”

  “Fine.” Rina went back into the kitchen and retrieved the pot. When she poured Donatti a cup, he didn’t even bother to look up. “You want me to leave you the pot?”

  “Please.” Donatti sipped coffee.

  “Quick question, Chris. Why did you tell him that you were my brother?”

  “Were you offended by it?”

  “No. You’re like a relative. But why tell him such an obvious lie?”

  “Who are you talking to, Rina? I told him a lie because I like to lie. Any other stupid questions or can I get back to work?”

  Rina paused before she spoke. Then she said, “I know you came out on a moment’s notice just to protect me. And I really do appreciate it. But even so, you don’t have to be rude, not to anyone, especially not to me.”

  Donatti looked up. “Understood.”

  “I just baked some brownies. Do you want one?”

  “I’m actually a little hungry.”

  “I’ll fix you something.”

  “Good.” He paused. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Problem solved.

  All men were psycho on empty stomachs.

  Despite all the bluster, Carter was nervous. “I know what you did. And I know why you did it. But I’ll tell you right now, it didn’t work, Decker.”

  “What didn’t work, Dr. Carter? I’m very confused. First off, why were you at my house?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “No, it’s my business. Why?”

  “Just to apologize if I scared Rina last night.”

  “You didn’t. But it was weird.”

  “This is all beside the point. I’m going to report this to your captain. That goon you hired roughed me up.”

  “Why would I hire anyone to rough you up, Professor? And what goon are you talking about?”

  “The ape at your house who’s pretending to be your brother-in-law. You hired him to intimidate me. I’m taking this up with the civilian board. You and your captain are going to hear about this.”

  “Why would I want to intimidate you?”

  “I’m not falling into that trap. You’ll hear from my lawyer and so will that goon.”

  “Dr. Carter, I’m sorry if I intimidated you and I certainly didn’t hire anyone to give you a hard time. But you’re right about one thing. Chris isn’t my brother-in-law. He’s the biological father of our foster son, Gabriel. Chris comes into town now and again, wreaks havoc, and then leaves. I didn’t even know he was coming in until this morning when he showed up at my door. What did he do to you by the way?”

  “He assaulted me. He slammed my hand on the table. I’m filing charges. You’d better have him arrested or I’ll make sure you’ll regret that you didn’t.”

  “You want me to arrest Chris for slamming your hand on the table?”

  Carter looked momentarily sheepish. “He practically broke my pinkie. It’s still swollen. I demand an apology from both of you.”

  “I didn’t do anything to apologize for. And I know that Chris would rather spend time in jail than apologize for anything.” Decker sighed. “But I’ll arrest him if you insist.”

  “I insist.”

  “I’ll do what you want, sir. But honestly, Donatti is not the type of guy you want on your bad side. Hold on. I want to show you something.” Decker brought Donatti up on his computer screen. “Why don’t you read this first and then make a decision.”

  As Carter read about Donatti, his eyes got wide. “He owns a whorehouse?”

  “Several. One in Elko, a couple in Mexico in El Chapo’s territory. Chris is a tough guy. He knows some evil people.”

  “He’s mob?”

  “His adopted dad was the head of a family, yes. But Chris is his own Cosa Nostra. He works solo, and that makes him even more dangerous.”

  “And you associate with this psychopath?”

  “Chris and I have a relationship that goes back over two decades. I originally arrested him for murder. Then I exonerated him because the one murder I arrested him for he actually didn’t do. I guess he harbors a soft spot for me. He is crazy, I’ll grant you that. Both he and his wife are nuts. They abandoned their fourteen-year-old son, knowing full well that my wife and I would take him in. And we did. Gabe is terrific. He’s a classical pianist, went to Juilliard, and is now touring the best concert halls in Europe. He’s part of our family and I suppose that makes Chris a tiny part of our family as well. I will do whatever you want, Dr. Carter, even if it means hauling in Chris Donatti for slapping your hand. I promise you he won’t hold it against me.”

  Carter didn’t answer.

  “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you the paperwork to fill out,” Decker said. “But I will say this. Once the charges have been filed, Chris’s behavior is out of my hands.”

  “You’re trying to get me to drop the charges.”

  “So far there are no charges to be dropped. I’m here to protect and serve and act as a public servant. Tell me what you want to do.”

  Carter jabbed a finger into Decker’s chest. “You know what? I’m looking into you. And if I find even the tiniest item that compromises you as a cop, I swear I’ll get you removed from Greenbury even if I have to take it all the way to the governor of this state—whom I have met more than once!”

  “Suffice it to say, we’re both on each other’s radar. Would you like to press assault charges against Christopher Donatti for slapping your hand? In my home?”

  The professor turned and walked away without another word.

  Decker leaned back in his chair and tried not to appear too smug. Carter had been wounded, but not mortally. He’d be back as soon as he recouped his strategy.

  Both on each other’s radar.

  For now, the score was one to zero, cop leading at the bottom of the first.

  Chapter 31

  Heading out to Kennedy Airport at one in the morning to catch a nonstop to L.A. at five a.m., neither Decker nor Rina went to sleep that night, opting to nap on the plane rather than awaken with that queasy feeling in the pit of the stomach. The flight arrived on time and they taxied into LAX at eight. After renting a car, they were in Los Angeles at nine a.m., right as the stores and markets on Pico Boulevard opened their shutters. The first order of business was a quick stop to get food for the weekend. Afterward, they stopped at Coffee Bean for to-go coffee and hit the road for the freeway drive to the city of Ventura.

  “When’s the interview?” Rina asked, sipping on a cappuccino.

  “It was supposed to be Sunday,” Decker replied. “But Marge thought sooner was better. If the waitress is Erin Young, she doesn’t want her to bolt.”

  “What’s your intuition?”

  “Don’t know on this one, Rina. I couldn’t tell by the photos. It’s been four years and the pics were taken on the sly so they weren’t that clear.” Decker entered the freeway ramp. “By the way, I’m not sure it was a good idea to let Donatti stay in our house without supervision.”

  “What’s he going to do?”

  “Steal my guns for one thing.”

  “Why would he do that? He’s armed to the hilt.”

  “Just to say he did it.”

  “I’m more concerned about Hank Carter doing something evil rather than Chris Donatti stealing your guns. I think Gabe’s coming down for the weekend.”

  “Poor kid.”

  “Gabe is no longer that abandoned fourteen-year-old we took in. He can take care of himself.”

  “Does he know the circumstances?”

  “Chris told him when he asked him to come down. Maybe he actually misses his son.”

  “More likely Chris wants an extra set of hands. Gabe’s a g
reat shot.”

  “So cynical.” Rina finished her coffee. As they took the curves through the canyon, she gazed out the passenger window, studying a day that promised heat and smog. When they crossed over into the valley, the temperature was already above eighty. “I forgot how hot September in Los Angeles is.”

  “Best time of the year in Greenbury and worst time of the year here. But the good news is, we’re not going to be in L.A. We’ll be seaside in Ventura with blue skies and six-foot waves in case you’re interested in surfing.”

  Rina brightened. “You booked a hotel on the beach?”

  “Marge handled everything. You can either thank her or blame her.”

  “So you had nothing to do with any of this?”

  “I asked her for a romantic getaway near the ocean.”

  “Aw . . .” She patted his leg. “You still care.”

  “Least I could do after you put yourself out there for me.”

  “Don’t blame yourself for that, Peter. Who knew that Carter would be a creep?”

  “He’s a suspect, Rina. I shouldn’t have agreed when you asked to attend his lecture.”

  “If he was determined to spook me, he would have found me lecture or no lecture. At least I had backup.” She nudged his rib gently. “Notice my spiffy cop lingo.”

  Decker smiled. “You’ve really been a help since we moved.” A pause. “I mean your input was always welcome. But since we’ve been in Greenbury, you’ve picked up some of my slack when I’m short-staffed. You know you’re working a nonpaid part-time job.”

  “Not to mention the never-ending coffeepot.”

  “That, too.”

  “Actually, I like nosing into your business. Maybe you should deputize me or something.” When he didn’t respond, Rina said, “I’m kidding.”

  “I’m wondering if that would be possible. Are you interested?”

  She gave the question some thought. “I’m not, but I thank you for the compliment. Helping you is one thing. Doing it as a paid job . . . well, I’d rather cook for two hundred people.”

  “You’d be a terrific detective, darlin’. You’ve got a keen intuition and you’re a crack shot.”

  “Thank you very much, but I’ll still pass.” She patted his leg again. “So far, we’ve been a successful life team. Let’s keep it that way.”

  Red and yellow roses, the attached card saying: To my favorite partner. Rina regarded her husband. “That could mean you talking about me or Marge talking about you.”

  Decker put the pastrami, smoked turkey, potato salad, and the coleslaw in the minibar to keep them fresh. He left the barbecued chicken on the counter. “They’re for you, but I had Marge find the local florist. I told Marge to say: Love, Peter. She might have improvised.”

  Rina laughed and looked out the window. “What a view! This is perfect!”

  The admiration for infinity was interrupted by the jangle of a phone. Decker depressed the button. “Hey there, Margie. Thanks so much. Wonderful accommodations. Everything’s perfect. You did great!”

  “Glad you like it.”

  “I liked the message on the flower card as well.”

  “Had to get my sentiments in. Hope Rina didn’t mind.”

  “She was fine with it.”

  “Good.” A pause. “Thanks.”

  Decker said, “Everything okay?”

  “Why do you ask?” Marge said.

  “Instinct after working with you for twenty-five years. What’s going on?”

  “Here’s the thing—”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Not uh-oh quite yet.” A beat. “She’s vigilant, Pete. She noticed me yesterday and she noticed me again today. Took a long hard look and didn’t like what she saw. She’s still working at the restaurant. I’m watching the front, and I’ve got someone at the back, but I’m using police time for a case that isn’t ours.”

  “Hold on.” He turned to Rina. “When is Shabbos?”

  “About four hours.”

  To Marge: “How far away am I?”

  “About a two-minute drive, fifteen-minute walk.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “I’m sure you’re tired, but I think that would be best.”

  “Of course. See you soon.” He turned to Rina. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “How far are you going?”

  “Not far. Marge says it’s a two-minute drive or a fifteen-minute walk.”

  “Give me directions and I’ll meet you there. It’s a beautiful day, and I want to stretch my legs.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about your walking alone.”

  “Unless Hank Carter took off right after us, I’ll be fine.” When Decker didn’t answer, Rina said. “Stop worrying. I’ll check in with you when I get into town.” She smiled and poked his ribs. “And if you don’t see me in twenty, call the police.”

  Old Town Ventura Main Street was a palm-lined boulevard of cafés, boutiques, and secondhand stores housed in tile-and-brick buildings going back a century. Among its historical structures were an art deco theater, an original Beaux-Arts city hall, and the four-story Erle Stanley Gardner bank building where it was said that the writer was inspired to write his Perry Mason series in the second-floor law offices. With few of the typical clothing brands in sight, the retail sector harkened to a different time, when life was slower and people strolled instead of jogged. Decker found parking in one of the free lots and walked a block, passing a candle store, an olive oil store, several small eateries, a one-off coffee café and bakery, and a used clothing shop with a sign that said trade-ins were welcome.

  The Rod and Reel restaurant was off the main road. The chalkboard outside advertised fresh fish, and being as the place was a few blocks from the ocean, Decker didn’t doubt the claim. Marge was standing outside the door, checking phone messages. She looked up as she heard Decker approach and gave him a thousand-watt smile. A hug ensued and both were grinning. He held her at arm’s length and looked her over. Marge was a tall woman with crinkles at the corners of her laughing brown eyes. Her skin was tan and she’d grown out her hair, now able to tie it in a ponytail. She was in a long-sleeved white shirt tucked into khaki slacks with rubber-soled oxfords on her feet. Decker nodded. “You’re more blond and more buff.”

  “Livin’ the dream, Rabbi,” she told him. “Life in the slow lane is good. You look pretty handsome yourself.”

  “Thanks, Margie. I could use a bit of an ego boost. I’ve got three dead bodies, and your Elena Hardgreeves is the closest I’ve gotten to anything resembling a breakthrough.”

  “Let’s go in and find out if I’m a hero or zero.”

  Decker opened the door. “After you.”

  The place was packed with humanity: those waiting for tables, those waiting for stools at the raw fish bar, and those occupying said tables and stools. The restaurant was big and bright and nautical in theme—blue, aqua, and white glass spheres behind glass partitions mimicking bubbles. Mock game fish trophies, ship ropes, and life preservers hung on the walls. There were many servers scooting their way through the maze of flesh while carrying trays of food and drink. Marge pointed to a woman who was waiting on an elderly couple with young children. She was in her midthirties, around five six with a slim figure. She had short hair, a round face, and light eyes.

  Decker said, “Watch this.” He walked over to the woman’s back and waited until she had finished serving. Then he shouted, “Hey, Erin!”

  The woman turned around, then gasped and dropped her empty tray. Everyone turned to look at her. Decker picked up the tray, took her elbow, and led her away from the busy floor. “Where’s the manager, Ms. Hardgreeves?” The woman remained speechless. Her face was ashen. He said, “I’m from the Greenbury Police. You’re not in trouble, but I need your help.”

  Marge came over and showed Erin her identification. “We just want to talk to you, Ms. Hardgreeves.”

  The woman’s eyes were terrified. She still couldn’t speak. Decker said
, “Let me talk to her manager.”

  “No, you stay with her and I’ll talk to the manager. I’m the official, remember.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  After Marge walked away, Erin finally found her voice, which wasn’t more than a whisper. “What do you want?”

  “Let’s wait until Sergeant Dunn comes back before we talk.”

  “Do I have to talk to you?”

  “No, you don’t. But in your hometown, there may be a serial killer on the loose. We’ve already dug up three bodies near Bogat Trail. I’ve got ideas, but that won’t get me anywhere. I really need help.”

  “How’d you find me?”

  “I talked to your mother. She said your dream was to go to Hollywood. I used to work in the LAPD. I still have contacts. Sergeant Dunn and I worked together for many years.” When she didn’t answer, Decker said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if your mother knew where you were all along. I thought that much when I spoke to her. She pointed me in that direction, but she didn’t give you away.”

  Erin said nothing. Both of them watched Marge walk toward them. “I got you a half-hour break but not a second more. Let’s go to the Mission. It’s quiet there.”

  The trio walked outside into the bright sunlight. In the distance was the Beaux-Arts city hall building, elevated and looking over Old Town like a guardian angel. Decker’s phone rang. Over the line, Rina said, “Just checking in. Where are you?”

  “Marge and I are going to the Mission, wherever that is.”

  “It’s at the end of Main Street. You can’t miss it,” Marge said.

  “I heard that,” Rina said. “I take it the visit is business?”

  “Correct.”

  “Then that must mean good news. I’ll do a little shopping. Call me when you’re done.”

  “Don’t break the bank.”

  “Peter, don’t you know the rule?” Rina laughed. “When you’re on vacation, whatever you charge doesn’t cost money and whatever you eat has no calories.”

  Chapter 32