Gun Games

by Faye Kellerman

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Did any of the group call 911?”

  “Don’t know. All the units I met at the park were responding to my call.”

  “Gabe called me right away. Doesn’t mean anything . . . just that he reached out for help . . . could be someone will say that I gave him direction . . . which I didn’t. Still . . .” Decker thought a moment. “You’re the lead. I can’t get too involved in this one.”

  “No problem. I thought as much.”

  “Gabe claims he dropped his sheet music at Coffee Bean before he took off to find the gang. Send someone down there to photograph it and bag it as evidence. It’ll lend credence to his story.”

  “No problem.”

  Decker said, “Who do you think is the weakest link in the B and W Mafia?”

  “They turned out to be a lot more evil than I gave them credit for,” Marge said.

  “You and me both.”

  “The weakest link?” Marge paused. “I’d say the seventeen-year-old brunette—Darla Holbein. She broke down immediately.”

  “Yeah, when I brought Yasmine in, she kept on trying to apologize to her.” Decker took out his pad and jotted down some notes. “Which means that if the gang was being robbed by them, why would Darla immediately start apologizing to Yasmine?”

  Marge said, “I’ll mention it to the D.A.”

  Decker said, “Who’s the next weakest link?”

  “A tie between JJ Little who hasn’t stopped crying and Kyle Kerkin, who wet himself when we found the gun.”

  “Kyle Kerkin is over eighteen, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perfect. Darla is with Wynona.”

  “She asked for her parents. They’ve already been notified and they’re on their way,” Marge said. “What should we do with Dylan, who’s asking for a lawyer?”

  “Give him his lawyer. He’ll be the last one we’ll talk to—after we get all the others to flip on him.”

  Yasmine raced into a bathroom stall. She didn’t even have time to close the door. It took a few minutes before she came out, wiping her mouth on toilet paper. She was trembling uncontrollably.

  “I can’t stop shaking.”

  “That’s all the adrenaline.” Wanda helped her onto a couch in the ladies’ lounge. “Let me get you some orange juice.”

  “I still feel sick.” She suddenly panicked. “I wanna go back to the hospital.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I wanna see Gabe.” She started to cry. “I need to see him. If something happens to him, I’ll kill myself!”

  Wanda counted to three. “Sweetheart, first let’s call your parents—”

  “Oh, please don’t call my mom.” She hugged herself in an attempt to stop her trembling. “She’ll kill me! My father will disown me. You don’t under . . . stand!”

  “So let’s start with your mother. She has to know what’s going on.”

  “Can I see the lieutenant?”

  “He’s busy right now.”

  “Please let me see him!”

  Wanda’s heart went out to her. “Yes, you can see him, but first I need to call your mother.”

  Reluctantly, Yasmine gave her the number.

  The call was not an easy one. The woman fluctuated between gasping and screaming, demanding to talk to her daughter who refused to take the phone. After the conversation, Wanda noticed that her own head was throbbing.

  Yasmine was still shaking. “Can I talk to the lieutenant now?”

  Wanda said, “I’ll see if I can find—”

  “Oh, please don’t leave me alone.”

  “Okay, let’s go out together.”

  Wanda helped her up and managed to flag down Decker. “She wants to talk to you, Lieutenant.”

  “That’s fine, but take her back to the ladies’ lounge. I don’t want her seeing anyone else that we brought in.” Decker’s cell phone rang. “It’s Rina; I have to take this.”

  Yasmine burst into tears. “I wanna see Gabe!”

  To Rina, Decker said, “What’s going on?”

  “I think I’m gonna faint,” Yasmine cried out.

  Wanda eased her into a chair. “I need some juice ASAP!”

  Decker ran to the refrigerator while holding the phone. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear well. It’s pandemonium down here. Can you shout?”

  Rina said, “Gabe’s stabilized. He’s fine. He’s going into surgery in about an hour. He keeps on asking about Yasmine. He wants to talk to her. Can I have him call your phone and you can put her on?”

  Decker looked around for Yasmine, but she was gone. “I think she went back to the bathroom. I’ll have her call Gabe’s cell when I see her.”

  “He can’t use his cell phone in a hospital,” Rina told him. “That’s why I asked if he can call her before he goes into surgery. He keeps calling her cell, but she’s not answering.”

  Decker took the carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. Scott Oliver was waving him over. Decker put out a finger to wait, then spotted Yasmine, sitting with her head between her legs. “Hold on, Rina, I found her.” He gave the carton and a paper cup to Wanda. “Do you have your cell phone, Yasmine?”

  Slowly, she lifted her head up and checked her pockets. She pulled it out. “Here.”

  “Drink,” Wanda told her. “Sip slowly.”

  Yasmine complied. Decker said, “Gabe’s going to call you. You need to go with Detective Bontemps back to the ladies’ room. I’ll be there as soon as I can come.”

  “When can I see Gabe?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Decker told her.

  “C’mon, sweetheart.” Wanda helped her up.

  “I want to see Gabe!”

  “He’s going into surgery, Yasmine. Go to the ladies’ lounge with Detective Bontemps, and he’ll call you, okay?”

  The girl nodded, tears streaming down her check. She squeaked out, “Thank you for all your help.”

  “You’re welcome, honey. I’m sorry I can’t do more right now.” He nodded to Wanda, who once again led her away.

  To Rina, Decker said, “Yasmine has her phone. Tell Gabe he can call her.”

  “Thank you, Peter.”

  “Happy to help. I gotta run.” He hung up and walked over to Oliver. “Who’s your interview?”

  “Kyle Kerkin.”

  “Perfect. He’s the one over eighteen with the Glock, right?”

  “Right. The Glock belongs to his father, but here’s the kicker. Dad reported it stolen eight months ago. So we’ve got a stolen weapons charge on top of the drug charges. Kyle is barely dog-paddling in the soup.”

  “See if you can pull him under. Let’s find out who he blames when he goes down.”

  Oliver said, “Kyle wants to talk to you, and he’s willing to do it without a lawyer.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, he asked for the lieutenant in charge. He’s just waiting to pop. We can’t blow this opportunity.”

  “I can’t do any interviewing, Scott. I’ve got an obvious personal involvement.”

  “He knows Gabe lives with you.”

  “He does?” Decker was floored. “How?”

  “Because Gabe told him that he lived with a police lieutenant.”

  “He did? When?”

  “I don’t know when, but he’s aware that Gabe has a foster dad who’s a cop.”

  “There’s some background story that I missed,” Decker said. “Okay, let’s do this. You do the interviewing, you get his story, and I’ll sit in with you.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Sooner is always better.”

  Decker went over to Marge’s desk. She was hanging up on the phone call. “That was Darla Holbein’s mother. She’s furious but not at us. Darla will have some explaining to do.”

  “Marge, I need someone to make up six-packs of the teens to show to Yasmine and Gabe for ID. Who’s free?”

  “Drew Messing might be free,”
Marge said. “He just finished with the Glock. It was stolen from Kyle Kerkin’s father eight months ago.”

  “Yeah, Oliver just told me.”

  “Messing’s writing up the report.”

  “When he’s done with that, tell him to start on the photo arrays, okay?”

  “Okay. How about if we do Dylan, Kyle, and Cameron first since they’re all over eighteen?”

  “Good idea,” Decker said. “Do you have any recent pictures of them we can use? Maybe something from their yearbook?”

  “I can probably get their pictures from Facebook. If not, I’ll do an image search.”

  “Good. We’ll worry about the others later. Does Dylan have a last name?”

  Marge smiled. “It’s Lashay.”

  Decker would have smiled if he wasn’t so busy. “Okay. Take one of Lashay’s photo lineup to Yasmine and to Gabe before he goes into surgery.”

  “When is he going into surgery?”

  “In an hour.”

  “That’ll be tight.” A pause. “Shouldn’t someone interview him?”

  “Shit, you’re right.”

  “I’ll do it once I’ve made the photo pack,” Marge said. “If Gabe and the girl make a positive ID, I’ll pull warrants for Lashay’s house and for his school locker. I’ll have Drew do the others.”

  At that moment, a gorgeous, stick-thin woman with tied-up black hair stormed into the squad room, her stilettos clacking against the hard floor. Sohala Nourmand’s perfectly made-up face was a cross between fury and pure panic.

  Decker said, “She’s fine, Mrs. Nour—”

  “I want to see my daughter now!”

  “I’ll take you to her—”

  Sohala wagged her finger in Decker’s face. “I call my husband now. We go call our lawyer. You’ll hear from us very soon! Now where is my daughter so I can take her home?”

  Decker tried to remain calm. “Neither you or your daughter are going anywhere—”

  The woman was furious. “We are leaving now!”

  “Mrs. Nourmand, your daughter may be in extreme danger and no matter how angry or scared you are, you are not going to compromise her safety! I think we both can agree on that.”

  The woman was aghast. “She’s in extreme danger?”

  “I don’t know how much you know, but from what I’ve managed to gather, she was kidnapped at gunpoint.” Decker was talking as fast as he could. “My foster son, who was with your daughter at the time, managed to get her away, but he was shot in the process. Gabriel will be undergoing surgery. We’re holding some people who may be responsible on attempted murder charges, but there’s a good chance at least some of them will make bail and I want to make sure your daughter is away and completely out of the picture if that should happen. So we need to strategize before you yank her out of her safety net and into this big, bad world.”

  Sohala’s mouth had dropped open. Abruptly her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she began to sway. Then her knees buckled.

  Decker and Marge caught her before she hit the ground.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Marge said, “Should I call an ambulance?”

  “No, no, no,” Sohala whispered.

  “Get her some water.” Decker took her pulse. It was slow but steady. “Would you like me to call your husband for you?”

  “No!” Sohala moaned. “He has a weak heart.” Sohala’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Was my daughter . . . ?”

  “No.” Decker assured her. “She wasn’t physically harmed at all.”

  “You are positive?” she whispered.

  Marge came back with the water. “Let me go make those photo packs before we lose our witnesses to surgery and Mom.”

  “Good idea,” Decker told her.

  Sohala sat up and sipped water. It took her a few minutes to find her voice. “Yasmine is okay?”

  “She’s fine. You can go see her in a moment, but first just hear me out—”

  “This is a bad dream. A nightmare . . . Do you say someone was shot?”

  “My foster son, yes.”

  “Dead God . . .” She regarded Decker. “Who is he?”

  “His name is Gabriel Whitman,” Decker said. “He’s the boy who played piano at Hannah’s graduation. You met him at the deli about three months ago.”

  “The tall white boy who goes to Harvard?”

  “He got into Harvard. He’s living with us until he goes to college.”

  “He is Jewish?”

  “No.”

  “No? Then why he was with my daughter?”

  Decker just looked at her. She sat back in her chair and muttered something plaintive in Farsi. She wagged a finger at him. “I knew something was funny with that girl. She is a sneaky one, but this is too much!” She suddenly looked horrified. “And is he okay . . . your boy?”

  “He’ll be fine, but it’s going to hurt for a while.”

  “I am so sorry.” Tears were in her eyes. “I think I’m very confused.”

  “It’s a lot to integrate,” Decker said.

  “I am supposed to meet my daughter at the dressmaker in an hour. She is getting married.”

  “To Aaron the doctor.”

  “Yes. I have to call her. What do I tell her? I think I feel sick!”

  “Take your time—”

  “This is just too much. I cannot do everything.” She was in tears. “I am one person.”

  “It’s a lot to absorb.” Decker was trying not to look at his watch.

  “So what do you find out about my daughter?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “What happened to her this morning?” She sounded exasperated.

  Decker said, “I’m still trying to put the pieces of this case together, and I’m needed urgently in an interview room. Can I talk about your daughter’s safety for a moment?”

  “Oh God, I am in a panic!”

  “Don’t panic, we need to stay calm, okay?”

  “Okay.” She fanned her face with her hand. “But I still panic.”

  “Mrs. Nourmand, I’d like Yasmine to stay out of the area until I have a better idea of what’s going on. Does she have a relative who lives nearby that she can stay with?”

  The woman blanched. “It is that bad?”

  “I don’t know,” Decker said. “Right now I’m just taking precautions.”

  “My sister lives in Beverly Hills.”

  “Can she stay with your sister for a little while?”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know. Once I have a clearer picture, maybe I can give you a better idea.”

  “She can stay with my sister, but what do I tell my husband? It is crazy just for her to move for no reason.”

  “Then maybe you should think about telling him what’s going on.”

  “But I don’t know what is going on. First, I need to know what’s going on. You say she was kidnapped with a gun; this is very serious. You make me panic again.”

  “That’s why I’d like your daughter to stay with your sister.”

  “That is not a problem. I just think what do I tell my husband. I cannot tell him truth right away. He’ll get mad at her, he’ll get very scared for her. His heart is not so good for a shock.”

  “I’m sure you can phrase it in a delicate way, ma’am.”

  Sohala exhaled. “So your boy and my daughter have been . . .”

  “I think they’ve been seeing each other for a while.”

  “How bad?”

  “How bad?”

  “You know . . . what do they do?”

  “I don’t know.” Decker shrugged. “How serious can two teenagers be?”

  “It cannot be serious, but it can be bad.” She was quiet. “My daughter is very naive. I hope he does not take advantage of her.”

  Decker tried not to bristle. “Gabriel’s a good boy.”

  “He can be good boy, but he is still boy.” She shook her head. “This is terrible. Okay. I got it. I tell my husband that Yasmine wants to t
ry out YULA. Last year, she did want to try it out, but I say no. I say it’s too far from home. Now I kick myself for not listening. It is all girls. I think after what’s going on, that is good idea.”

  Marge walked over to Decker and handed him two photo arrays—one with Dylan Lashay in the number four position, and another with Cameron Cole in the number three position. “Are these okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  “I’ll take a set to Wanda to show Yasmine. Then I’m off to the hospital. I just talked to Rina. They’ve postponed Gabe’s surgery for another couple of hours because they’re trying to find a specific surgeon who can remove the bullet without cutting too much muscle. He hasn’t even been sedated yet, so I want to talk to him pronto.”

  “Go.”

  Marge turned to Mrs. Nourmand. “I’m glad everything worked out with your daughter.”

  She said, “Thank you for your wishes.”

  After Marge left, Decker said, “I’ll take you to see Yasmine—”

  “I really am sorry about the boy.” Her eyes watered up. “It is terrible.”

  “As one parent to another, I appreciate your sympathy.”

  “What about the boy? After he gets out of the hospital, he stay here?”

  “You mean with me?” Decker raised his eyebrows. “I’m concerned for him as well. Once Gabe is well enough, I’ll probably send him to his father’s.”

  “Where does his father live?”

  “In Nevada.”

  “That is very good.” She regarded Decker. “I have nothing bad against Gabe, but it can’t go on.” She sighed. “How much already go on? That is the question.”

  “I didn’t even know Gabe was seeing your daughter until I picked them up this morning.”

  “You pick them up this morning?”

  “Gabe called me and said they were in trouble. I came down and got them.”

  “So I say thank you.” She welled up with tears again but tried to hide it. “I want to see her . . . my daughter.”

  Decker said, “Good idea, Mrs. Nourmand. She knows a lot more about what happened than I do.”

  Yasmine’s trembling finger pointed to position number four. Her eyes moistened. “This one.”

  Wanda said, “Are you sure?”

  Yasmine nodded as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her voice was very small. “I’m positive.”

  “Could you circle your choice with this pen?” Marge asked her.