“But not where she is,” Alison said. “That was the deal.”
“I won’t tell them where. Just that you heard from her and you don’t want to pursue the matter.”
“Do you think that Elsie Schulung is a criminal?” Guy said.
“I don’t know. I wish I did.” He gave a rehearsed smile. “Thank you for your time. I’m very happy that you’ve heard from Kathrine. If you need to contact me again, please don’t hesitate. Believe it or not, I am on your side.”
Alison’s eyes moistened. “Thank you.” She held out a cookie plate. “One for the road?”
“Watching my weight.” Decker patted his gut. “I’ll see myself out.”
Chapter 27
It took about fifty phone calls, but the family finally decided on a place to eat dinner before Decker and Rina took off for Israel at twelve in the morning from Kennedy. As Decker looked around the table at their five children including a foster son, four spouses, one fiancée, and five grandchildren, he couldn’t help but think that even if he died tomorrow, he’d go out a winner.
As usual, the conversation turned lively, then loud. People shouting across the table, kids interrupting, and the usual spillage. Appetizers came and went. Kids started having meltdowns. Right before the entrées arrived, the server came over with two big bottles of rosé champagne and flutes.
“Who ordered this?” Rina asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Group effort,” Jacob said.
She looked at her son. His blue eyes were twinkling. Everyone looked very happy. She said as much.
“We are happy,” Hannah said.
Decker said, “Happy for us or happy to get rid of us?”
“Oh, Abba!” She threw her napkin at him.
“We’ll miss you,” Sam said.
“We’ll miss you, too,” Rina told her elder son. “But we’re only gone for two weeks.”
“You know what I mean,” Sam said. “You told us you’re planning on going for an extended time after Pesach.”
“Six months without being able to complain to you,” said Hannah.
“There are telephones,” Rina said.
“It’s what . . . like an eight-hour time difference,” Cindy said. “If I need immediate help on a difficult case, who am I going to call?”
“Or when I need money,” Jacob said.
“Or when I need to deflect my crazy parents,” Gabe said.
“Or when I need a babysitter,” Sam added. “But I must say, it’ll be nice to have a place in Jerusalem. Hotels are expensive.”
“It’s a small place, Sammy,” Decker said.
“It’ll have beds and cribs,” Rina said. “You can use it anytime you want.”
Cindy shushed her twin boys. She looked at her father. “Seriously, Daddy, when do you think it’ll be ready? Koby and I have a bar mitzvah there next year. We’re planning on going with the kids and like Sammy said, hotels are expensive especially at that time of year.”
“I have a gig there next year as well,” Gabe told his foster parents. “I think it’s in Tel Aviv. Maybe it’s Tel Aviv and Jerusalem.” He turned to his fiancée. “You’re coming with me, right?”
“Especially if we have our own place,” Yasmine said. “I don’t like hotels.”
Decker looked at Rina. “Should we be charging rent?”
“Quiet, everyone!” Jacob held up a flute of champagne. “I propose a toast. To the happy couple. May they find peace and solitude in the Holy Land, and may construction go easily and without gonavim.”
“Here, here!” Cindy said. “What’s gonavim?”
“Crooks,” Koby said.
Jacob was still holding up the flute. “To the happy couple. L’chaim.”
“L’chaim!” everyone echoed.
“One more thing.” Jacob held out two envelopes to his stepfather. “For you two. A small gift for all your long sufferings with the clan.”
Rina took the envelopes. “This better not be money!”
“Why not?” Decker said.
“It’s not money,” Cindy said. “Open it.”
Decker complied and pulled out two tickets to Israel—business class.
Rina said, “What did you guys do?”
“Go in peace and go in style,” Sammy said.
“This must have cost you people a fortune.”
“Not so bad between all of us,” Koby said. “We just upgraded your current tickets.”
Rina had tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.” A pause. “Thank you, thank you.”
“Unfortunately, we couldn’t get seats together for the outbound flight at this late date,” Hannah said, “but you’re together for the return flight.”
“Wow, thank you, children. It makes the trip even more exciting.” Decker held up his flute. “A toast to all of you.”
Just then Gabe’s phone rang. He looked at the window. The number was blocked. No doubt it was his father. He often used burner phones, although he had a regular phone with both burner and hush features. But that was just Chris. Nothing with him was ever consistent.
“L’chaim,” Gabe said. “I’ve got to take this.” He stood up and walked out of the restaurant. The street noise didn’t make it much quieter, but at least his ears weren’t ringing. “Hey.”
Breathing on the other end. Gabe almost hung up, except it wasn’t perverted breathing. It was labored breathing. “Hello?”
“You’ve gotta . . . get me.”
A woman was struggling to talk. Confusion and then the lightbulb. Gabe’s heart started racing. “Mom?” No response. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Yes.” She was crying. “They took Sanjay . . . Juleen . . . they’re gone. You’ve got to help me. I’m dying.”
“Mom, where are you?”
“L.A.”
“Where in Los Angeles?”
“Valley.”
“Mom, call 911.”
“No!”
“You have to—”
“No!”
“You’ve got to call the police, Mom, and right away.”
“They’ll arrest me.” A long pause. “You need to come get me.”
“Mom, I’m three thousand miles away. If you’re hurt, you need to go to a hospital. Call 911!” There was no response. “Mom, are you still there?” She didn’t answer, but Gabe could hear her breathing. “Mom, I love you. Please call for help!”
“Hold on . . . oh God! I think that’s Juleen!”
“Mom?” But she had hung up. With shaking hands, he dialed the phone number she had given him earlier when she had settled in California. It went straight to voice mail. “Why do you do this to me!”
He called again. And again. And again and again.
He texted her: CALL ME!
Decker had stepped outside, saw his foster son pacing. “Everything okay?”