Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 14

by Stone Kiss

  “Randy, I need to talk to someone—”

  “Who?”

  She didn’t answer him. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. I’ll catch an early-morning flight. Get into Orlando around nine. Will that work?”

  “Yeah, it’ll work. But I don’t like it.”

  “Then you won’t like the next part, either. I don’t want Peter to know about it. I’ll call him tonight. But if he calls tomorrow to check up on things, or to talk to Hannah, can you cover for me?”

  No response over the line.

  “Randy—”

  “I heard you. Rina, letting Pete poke around is one thing. You’re a completely different story. What in heaven’s name are you thinking?”

  “Please, Randy! It’s just until tomorrow morning.” A pause. “Please?”

  “You two deserve each other.” Displeasure in his voice. “What are you going to do with Hannah?”

  “I’ll take her back to Brooklyn. That’s a given—”

  “You and me need to have a good, long talk when you get in tomorrow.”

  “I’ll tell you everything I know. Start to finish, Randy, I promise.”

  “I love that guy. He’s the only brother I got. And I’m rather fond of you.”

  “I won’t do anything stupid.”

  “I wish I believed that.” A pause. “Okay.” More resolute this time. “Okay, I’ll cover for you. I have to talk to Pete anyway. He asked for some information, and I may have something for him tomorrow morning.”

  “He called you?”

  “A couple of days ago, yeah.”

  “What did he ask you about?”

  “That’s not for me to say. Rina, I swear to God, you better know what you’re doing, because I’m Hannah’s legal guardian. If something happens to both of you, do you want me raising your daughter?”

  Randy was on wife number four. He was making a very strong point.

  “I think you’re a fine man.”

  “That may be, sis, but we have differing styles. I’m bringing it down to a level you can understand.”

  “I hear you. Thank you very much.”

  “I’ll feel a lot better when you thank me in person.”

  By the time she got back to Manhattan, it was almost midnight. To her surprise, she made it uptown in twenty minutes, amazed at how fast she could cross the city without traffic as an impediment. Still, she didn’t get out right away, sitting in Sora Lazarus’s old Honda, staring at the building. She was on a tight schedule. It was do or die. Finally, she pulled the door handle and made the plunge, locking the car with the remote. A quick glance around, then she ran over to the building’s lobby.

  No listing for Donatti.

  Either he was unlisted or she had the wrong numbers. By now, it was way too late to start pushing random buzzers, but having come this far, she wasn’t quite ready to admit defeat. Noting that the fifth and sixth floors were taken up by one tenant, MMO, she figured that maybe that was her best bet. But before she could depress the corresponding white button, the door barked out an irritating drone.

  She went in, stopping in front of the elevator.

  Where to?

  No idea.

  He’d come get her.

  And he did—sunken eyes, pale lips, and a complexion that was florid and pallid at the same time. He wore black sweatpants and a loose white T-shirt. His feet were bare. He crooked a finger and she followed. The silent ride up was incredibly slow. As they got out, he put his finger to his lips, then took her through an anteroom with a metal detector. When Rina set it off, he shushed her silently and waved her forward, through a door and into a spacious loft filled with windows that framed city lights. A pile of broken glass and tangled metal took up most of the center area. To the right was a zone devoted to photography equipment; three doors took up the left-hand wall. He opened one of them, then stepped aside, indicating that she should go in first.

  She did.

  The room was spacious enough, but claustrophobic simply because it lacked the tall windows of the studio. No windows period. He bolted the door shut, then turned on a series of switches that illuminated a panel in Christmas-tree colors, and started the whirling of an overhead fan. Monitors from video cameras showed different positions around the building. The man wasn’t taking chances.

  He sat down, and so did she. She was much more nervous than she thought she would be. She allowed herself a minute of thinking time, then spoke.

  “I just have one question.”

  Donatti waited.

  “Do you know who hurt Peter?”

  He took in her clear aqua eyes and said nothing.

  “Was it you?”

  Still, no response.

  “Did you punch my husband?” Rina demanded to know.

  He smiled, but it was a weak one. “Mea culpa.”

  Rina slumped back in her chair and placed her hands over her mouth. Tears dropped down from her eyes. “Thank you, God!” She exhaled exhilaration. “I thought someone was trying to kill him.”

  “Maybe someone is.” His voice was a whisper. “Maybe that someone is me.”

  “Nonsense!” Rina dismissed him. “Why would you let him go? Why would you have let me go?”

  “I like playing head games.” His eyes locked onto her face.

  Abruptly, she felt herself go hot. She said, “I woke you up.”

  “No, I was awake.”

  For the first time, she realized how compromised he was. His face was sopping wet. He dabbed his brow with a damp towel that had been on his desk. She felt ashamed of herself.

  “You’re ill. How can I help you?”

  “Interesting question.” A look. “You can start by taking off my shirt.”

  She got up, and so did he, towering over her. That was okay. She was used to that. With steady hands, she lifted the cotton tee over his gun, over his bandaged ribs, then over his head. Her nose was hit with a strong stench—sweat, decay, and infection—made even more intense because the room wasn’t well ventilated. The gauze was saturated and had turned rusty brown. “Let me take a look—”

  “Leave me alone.” He sat back down. “I haven’t had a mother in over a decade and I don’t want one now. You have to get out of this city, Mrs. Decker. The lieutenant would be wise to leave, but he probably won’t because he’s a stubborn man. Besides, he can take care of himself.”

  “Was… you know… was it for you or for me?”

  “This?” He pointed to his ribs.

  Rina nodded. “Yes, that.”

  “I have some ideas. Don’t worry. I’ll find out. I have to find out. Something like this can ruin a hard-earned reputation like that!” He snapped his fingers. “Whoever it is… whoever he was after… he’s not too good at what he does. Because we’re both still alive.”

  Rina shuddered. “Why would he be after me?”

  “I’m not saying he is. But if he is, you can probably answer that question better than I can.”

  “I didn’t think Peter was even close.”

  “Then maybe it’s time to stop and take stock.” He closed his eyes and tried to breathe away the pain. “Whoever this was meant for is irrelevant. Outcome is outcome. You owe me.”

  “You saw the person?”

  “I saw enough glint of metal to know what was coming. I’m attuned to that kind of thing… very… detail oriented.”

  Again she heard him gasping for air. “Let me see the wound.”

  “It’s nothing. Strictly superficial. It nicked a few ribs. Listen, Mrs. Decker, if you get out now, no one has to know. Especially your husband.”

  “I plan to do just that. Originally I was supposed to go out tonight. As a matter of fact, the lieutenant thinks we’ve gone out tonight.” She took out her cell phone. “Can I make a call?”

  Donatti pushed his phone over the desktop. “Your cell won’t register in here.”

  Reluctantly, she picked up the phone and called Peter, pretending that they had landed and everything was fin
e. He kept asking her if she was okay. He could hear the anxiety in her voice. Somehow she managed to convince him that Hannah was too cranky to talk to him, and Randy had to concentrate on his driving. He believed her. Why should he not believe her? She knew she should feel guilty, but she didn’t. The subterfuge was worth everything. That his swollen face had come from Donatti’s fist was a big relief. A known quantity—albeit evil—was still better than the unknown.

  When she hung up, Donatti was looking at her, an amused smile on his face. “Very sneaky, Mrs. Decker. And not very religious, if you ask me.”

  “On the contrary, it’s called keeping the peace on the home front. Shalom bayit.” She clasped her hands together. “How did you know I was in danger?”

  Donatti slumped back in the chair. “I could give you a line. Tell you lies and you’d believe every one of them. About how I was being chivalrous and trying to protect you. I didn’t know you were in danger until I saw the piece. The truth is, I was stalking you, Mrs. Decker. I get a real sexual buzz by spying on women who are unavailable to me. After Terry broke with me—before we reestablished contact—I used to spy on her all the time. I still do. It really excites me.”

  Rina couldn’t hold his eyes. A warm blush swept through her face.

  “You’re nervous. That also gives me a buzz. Don’t worry. I’m not going to touch you. I don’t believe in taking women by force. However, if you’re interested, all you gotta do is wink. I’m not as sick as I look.”

  “Remember what I told you that day at the park?” Rina said. “I’ve reinstated every single word.”

  Donatti managed a fleeting smile. “Well, then, since sex is out and your plane isn’t scheduled to leave for four hours, do you want to crash here?”

  Rina’s eyes went back to his bandage. “Your wound is oozing, Mr. Donatti. Please let me take a look at it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re in pain. If it’s only pain, then you’re fine. But if your wound is festering, you’ve got a serious problem. Just stand up and let me take a peek. Even if you’re fine, your bandage needs to be changed.”

  Donatti stalled, then got up from his chair. A moment later, she was close to him, her eyes level with his waist. He could feel her breath on his oversensitive skin. She began to peel back the layers of bandage. As she worked, he focused in on her face, a mask of concentration. Instantly, he was aware of her fingertips brushing against him. Not even a smidgen of sexual overtone.

  Rina regarded his wound—red and swollen and oozing. A brownish raised ring sat on the left side of his rib cage. Next to it, the skin was torn and shredded. It was especially jarring because the bullet holes sat on his otherwise perfect body. “You got hit twice. First one’s just a graze wound. Second one went in and out.”

  “I’m all right.”

  “That may be, but it’s more than superficial. What do you have by way of medicines?”

  He reached into his file cabinet and handed her a large plastic shopping bag filled with dozens of vials of pills, creams, ointments, and medical supplies—bandages, tape, clips, cotton balls, cotton swabs, and even a suture needle. The pills were prescription drugs that had been tagged but were without proper labels. No dosage, no Rx, no instructions whatsoever. There were antibiotics, anti-inflammatory medication, anabolic steroids, including a full course of prednisone, and at least ten different types of pain medication, including codeine and morphine.

  “Did you get these on the black market or something?”

  “I don’t believe in paying retail.”

  Rina dispensed with the lecture. She began to sort through the various medications. “What are you taking?”

  Donatti sorted through the bottles. “I think I’m taking this one.”

  “Amoxicillin?”

  “Yeah. Isn’t that an antibiotic? I took it when I had a sort throat.”

  “Except you don’t have a sore throat, Mr. Donatti. You have a bullet wound.” Rina studied the medicines. “This will do—Keflex. It might upset your stomach. Take it anyway. You have enough for ten days. You’ll probably need more. What you really need is a doc—”

  “Are you done?”

  “No, Christopher, I am not done. I haven’t even started. I want to clean this up. To do it properly, it’ll take a while.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “So am I. The sooner we start, the faster it’ll be done.”

  “Then you’ll leave?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anything to get rid of you.”

  Rina told herself to start with the basic. “I need to wash my hands.”

  He thought a moment, then reached in his file cabinet and took out several shrink-wrapped packages of latex surgical gloves. Good ones—strong and thin. Rina stared at them, then at him. Then snapped them over her hands.

  “Even better.” She sat on a chair while he stood. She took a cotton swab and began to clean the suppurated area.

  He winced and jumped.

  “Sorry, I know it stings.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “It stings and it stinks.”

  “It’s infected.”

  She worked in silence. A minute passed, then another.

  Donatti said, “You have a light touch.”

  “Good.”

  “You’re not very squeamish for a religious woman.”

  “That’s a non sequitur.”

  “You’ve done this before.”

  A statement, not a question. “Yes.”

  “Nursing the lieutenant’s gunshot wounds?”

  “Actually, yes, I’ve done that. But my experience goes beyond that. When I first got married, I lived in Israel… during the Lebanon invasion, about eighteen years ago. I lived in what you people in America call a settlement way back when it really was a settlement—”

  She stopped talking, needing to concentrate for a moment.

  “Today these settlements are actually towns. Besides, I prefer to think of it as resettlement, but that’s my bias talking. Anyway, a group of us pioneer women decided to do our bit for our soldiers on the front lines. Six of us went up North to help out. I was all of twenty. There was this medical camp at the border—makeshift of course, but it had good equipment. There were around… oh, fifty beds maybe. The first day there was awful—the moaning, the groaning, the wounds, the smells, the injuries. The second wasn’t any better. But by the end of a week, you either leave, or you do something useful. Once you’ve learned, you never forget.”

  Donatti was stunned. “So what did the lieutenant do while you were nursing soldiers?”

  “I suppose he was doing police work in Los Angeles.” She threw pus-filled swabs into the garbage and regarded his eyes. “I wasn’t married to Lieutenant Decker back then, Christopher. I lived in Israel with my first husband.”

  Donatti was silent. Then he said, “You’re divorced?”

  “Married at seventeen, two baby boys by twenty, a widow at twenty-four.”

  Donatti raised his eyebrows, then stifled a yelp.

  “Sorry. I need to clean out this fold. It’s a little deep.”

  The room fell quiet.

  Donatti said, “So Decker’s not the father of your sons.”

  “Not the biological father, no.”

  “Does he get along with them?”

  “Very well actually.”

  “How’d you meet him? Decker?”

  “My first husband and I eventually moved back to the States. We lived in an insulated, religious community. My husband died there, but I stayed on. A crime occurred and the lieutenant was in charge of the investigation. I, being unattached and tremendously attracted to the man, acted as a go-between for the police.”

  “What kind of a crime?”

  “Rape. Back then, the lieutenant was a Sex Crimes detective.”

  “Someone try to rape you?”

  She stopped. “I didn’t say anything about my being the victim.”

  “I just assumed.”

  R
ina didn’t answer. But Donatti saw her jaw tighten. “I’ve upset you. I’ll shut up.”

  “You didn’t upset me.” But she fell into silence, chewing on her swollen lip as she tried to keep her composure.

  Donatti felt for her. He said, “My old man was an Irish two-fisted drunk. Used to pummel me all the time. Just beat the crap out of me. When I was seven, he got drunk and repeatedly kicked me between the legs. I lost a testicle.”

  Rina froze. “That’s absolutely horrible!”

  “It wasn’t pretty, especially because I didn’t get proper cosmetic surgery right away. I used to hide underneath a towel at gym.” His laugh was bitter. “Guys used to think it was because I was a big guy with a small you know what.”

  “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” Rina bit hard on her lip. The scab opened up and bled into her mouth, but she continued dressing the shot wounds.

  Donatti went on. “He beat my mother, too.” His face darkened. “Cops were called in at least a dozen times. Didn’t do shit… Bastards didn’t give a damn. They’d haul him in, put him in jail to sleep it off overnight, give him breakfast in the morning, and spring him. A couple days, maybe a week later, same thing, same routine. ‘Hey, Patty! Don’t we always tell you to hit her where we can’t see?’ Just one big sick joke. Worst feeling in the world…being helpless.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  Donatti grew black and silent.

  “I can’t fathom how someone could repeatedly beat up on a child.” Rina’s voice broke. “You poor thing.”

  “S’right.” Donatti was touched by her empathy. “I survived. And I obviously don’t have a hormone problem.”

  “Obviously not.”

  “Thank God for small favors.” Donatti wiped his perspiration-soaked face with a towel. “It’s not such a small favor. From two to one is livable. One to none is not. Eventually, I got cosmetic surgery. You couldn’t tell anything just by looking.” A grin. “Wanna see?”

  “You must be feeling better,” Rina commented. “You’re making lewd remarks.”

  “Just some harmless flirting.” His smile turned to a stony expression. “I don’t remember the last time I just flirted. I’m so used to using sex as a weapon. Comes from being molested, you know.”