Street Dreams

by Street Dreams

  “El Paso’s locked up,” Brill pointed out.

  “His buddies aren’t,” I countered.

  “Koby won’t leave until you tell him to do so,” Decker informed me. “It’s two-thirty in the morning. The guy could use some sleep.”

  “He’s still here? I told him to go home as soon as he was done being interviewed.”

  “I think he’d like to say good-bye.” Decker looked at Stone. “Borrow her for a couple of minutes, Mack?”

  “As long as you bring her back.”

  “Promise.”

  “Don’t know if I believe you, Pete.”

  “If I could get away with kidnapping her and locking her in a closet, believe me I’d do it.” To me, Decker said, “C’mon.”

  I stood up. “Excuse me.”

  When they were out of earshot, Daddy took me aside several yards away from the squad room. No one was in the hallway. He spoke softly. “Where’s your gun?”

  “They took it.”

  His voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you clear his prints before you gave it in?”

  I regarded my father with surprise.

  “If you get mad at him, you’ll make me look bad. So don’t you dare do it! I twisted his arm and he told me out of concern for you.”

  “The answer to your question is yes,” I told him.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  But I didn’t move. I whispered, “And you wouldn’t have done the same thing?”

  “I would have done exactly the same thing.”

  “Germando must have told his buddies about me. I screwed up and now Koby’s paying the price. I can’t be content with just doing my job well! I’ve got to throw a noose around my neck and drag innocent people into my extracurricular affair. I’m such a goddamn jerk—”

  “Stop it!” Decker held my shoulders and gave me the fire of his eyes. “Cynthia, if you aren’t calm out there, we’ll never get Koby to leave. If you like him and want what’s best for him, you will go out there and convince him to go home so he can get some sleep!”

  My eyes watered. “He was just . . . terrific. I owe him.”

  “Sweet. Can we go now?”

  I cracked. “Do you have to be sodamn hard?” Tears leaked out. “I’m fine, but surely alittle bit of sympathy wouldn’t mar your hard-nosed reputation!”

  My father exhaled forcibly, then grabbed me and hugged me tightly. I was transported back to when I was a little girl and afraid of the dark. He was always so big and strong and invincible. He wasn’t around much, but when he was, I always felt safe. I felt safe now. I wondered if he’d ever lose his fairy-tale touch.

  “I love you, pumpkin.”

  “I love you, too, Daddy.” I broke away and tried to act adult. “I’m fine.” I wiped my eyes. “Really.” I gave him a tearful smile. “Just more fodder for my therapist.”

  “Cynthia, you proved you’re tough. Now do us both a favor and quit.”

  “Not a chance. What would I do?”

  “You’ve got a master’s from Columbia in criminal science. Go to law school.”

  “You, the law school dropout, are telling me to do that with a straight face?”

  “I did not drop out, I finished.”

  “You want some medicated shampoos, Daddy?”

  “What?”

  “To help you pick out those nits. You may have the degree, but you’re still a dropout.”

  “You know, I’m not the only one who’s unhappy about your profession. He doesn’t like cops, either.”

  “Who?”

  “Koby. He told me he doesn’t like cops.”

  “Maybe he just doesn’t like you.”

  Dad laughed. “That’s possible.”

  “He’s black. He’s got some preconceived notions about the police that are sometimes not so preconceived. I love my job, same as you, Dad. I wouldn’t trade my badge for anything.”

  “Even if he asked you to do it?”

  “He’dnever ask that of me. Only you do that.”

  “It’s a father’s prerogative.”

  “Shall we go?”

  “Now who’s being hard?”

  That gave me pause. “I love you, Decker. Thanks for coming down. Now maybe you should go home and get some sleep.”

  He smiled enigmatically, making me wonder what was on his mind. But I didn’t ask. Instead, I opened the door that led out to the station house’s lobby. Koby saw me and stood up. Without thinking, we ran to each other and embraced, his lips brushing the top of my hair. I nestled into his tight body, then reluctantly broke away. “Go home and get some rest, Yaakov. I can take it from here.”

  He took my hand. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I kissed his hand, then let it go. “No problem. Go. Do you have cab money?”

  “I’ll have a cruiser take him home,” Dad said to me.

  “Right! Thanks.”

  Koby said, “Are you sure, Cynthia? I shall wait if you want. As a matter of fact, I would like to wait.”

  “Don’t you have to work tomorrow . . . or rather, today?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Get some rest, Koby. Your being exhausted won’t do either of us any good—Oh my God! What are you going to do for a car?”

  He smiled without showing teeth. It constricted his face instead of opening it up. “I suppose insurance will give me about fifty bucks.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry. I rent something. Your father said they’ll reimburse me.”

  “Yeah, also about fifty bucks. Take my car.”

  “No, no. I’ll find something.”

  “This is all my fault. Take my car.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “I can loan you something,” Dad offered.

  Koby’s eyes moved to my father’s face. “It’s all right. I have friends.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Dad said, “but I’ve got a spare.”

  “It’s a vintage Porsche,” I told him.

  “No, I don’t think so!” Koby smiled.

  “No, no, no . . .” Decker smiled back. “Not the Porsche. We still have Rina’s old Volvo. The boys use it when they’re home.”

  “But they are home,” Koby said.

  “Yes, they are. But they don’t need their jobs to keep a roof over their heads. They have friends, too. Take the car until you figure something out.”

  He regarded Decker. “How old is old?”

  “Ten years and lots of dents. It’s a clunker, Koby. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thank you.” A pause. “Thank you very much, sir.” He tried out another smile for my benefit. “Well, I suppose you’re in good hands.”

  “Thanks,” Decker answered wryly.

  Koby let out a small laugh. To me, he said, “You’ll call?”

  “Yes, I’m good about that—unlike others in this room.”

  He answered my wisecrack by sweeping me into his arms and kissing me deep and slow, lacing his long nutmeg fingers into my thick hair. I responded in kind, melting into his body, wrapping both of my arms around his neck.

  I saw my father avert his eyes and turn his face.

  He didn’t want me to see him smiling.

  35

  Standing in the corner,arms across his chest, all ears and no mouth, Decker stayed in the background while his elder daughter, the first issue of his loins, fielded questions flung from every angle. It was a test of endurance, not only for Cindy, but also for himself. Could he really listen to all this crap for hours and keep his yap shut? Finally, at four-thirty in the morning, both he and Cindy appeared victorious. As Stone and Brill wound down the interview, Decker thanked his Hollywood hosts and excused himself, telling Cindy he’d wait for her outside.

  He called Rina. She answered on the third ring.

  “I’m still here, but everything’s fine,” Decker said.

  “How’s Cindy?”

  “She was a pro. Have you been up all this time?”

  “No, I’ve been sleeping . . . restlessly. The kind
of sleep where you know you have to wake up and catch an early-morning plane.”

  “You’re going to be wiped out.”

  “Not too bad. I can always catnap in the afternoon.”

  “Then maybe I won’t feel too guilty asking you this. Can you take Hannah to school for me?”

  “You’re not coming home?”

  “No.”

  Silence over the line.

  “Taking Hannah is no problem,” Rina said. “What are you up to?”

  “I need to spend time with Cindy. As a matter of fact, I’m going to call in and take the day off.”

  “Oh my . . . she must be really shaken.”

  Decker didn’t dispel the notion. “I don’t want her left alone.”

  “What about Koby? Isn’t he around? Or is he outside the emotional loop?”

  “The man is crazy about her. Getting him to leave Cindy was like peeling Super Glue off the fingertips, but she finally managed to convince him to go home. I’m sure he’s not sleeping too well, either, but he’ll survive.”

  “Maybe you should let the two of them comfort each other, Peter. At some point, you need to pull back.”

  Decker smiled inwardly. “There’s no ring on her finger. Right now, I still have seniority. Try to get another hour or two of sleep. I’ll see you tonight, all right?”

  No one spoke for a moment. Then Rina said, “Why do I think you’re up to something?”

  “Cindy just came out. Gotta go.” Immediately, Decker disconnected the line. Then he turned the phone off.

  ∇

  She gave her father a tired smile. “I’m so sorry to drag you out.”

  Decker hugged her. “You didn’t drag me out. I came of my own accord.”

  “I can take a cab.”

  Decker burst into laughter. “Yes, exactly. I’m going to let you take a cab.” He tousled her hair. “Stop being ridiculous.” He waved to the desk sergeant and opened the door for her. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Together they stepped into the misty predawn morning. Cindy said, “Really . . . thanks for coming. But equally important, thanks for not interfering.”

  “See, I can behave myself.”

  They walked to his Porsche. Again he opened the door for her. Cindy smiled at his courtly behavior and Decker smiled back, always the gentleman. After her father slid behind the wheel, she asked if she could borrow his cell phone, wanting to call Koby.

  Decker didn’t start the motor right away.

  “First things first. Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine, Loo.”

  “Good.”

  She waited for her father to fork over the phone. When he didn’t, she said, “Uh, can I have your cell now, please?”

  “No.”

  She had asked the question as a formality. “No?”

  “No. Let him sleep.”

  “Dad, he’s waiting for my phone call.”

  “I’m sure he is. But if you call him, he’ll insist on seeing you. Right now, that’s not a good idea.”

  Cindy waited for an explanation, but none came. Instead, Decker said, “What’s your status right now?”

  “I have the day off.”

  “It wasn’t out of charity,” Decker said. “They’re pulling you off active duty pending an investigation.”

  “They want me to call in at noon.”

  “Standard procedure.”

  “What are they investigating? They don’t have the car; the license plates are stolen; no one checked into the hospital with gunshot wounds.”

  “Not yet.”

  Cindy was silent.

  Decker said, “You were shot at, Cynthia, and you discharged your weapon. Or at least Koby did. Someone’s going to be checking out your story. So if you have something to add or subtract, now is the time to tell me.”

  Leaning over, she kissed her father’s stubble-coated cheek. “I told them everything. I was completely straight with them other than the minor modification. So let them check me out.”

  “You didn’t tail the car or try to stop it or—”

  “No, no, no.” She was adamant. “I pulled over just to get the Nova’s license plate because the car was tailing me. I had planned to go back to the station house and run it through DMV. I didn’t try to apprehend anyone. I certainly didn’t instigate anything.”

  “And they fired first?”

  “That’s insulting, Dad.”

  “I had to ask, Cynthia.”

  “Yes, they fired first.”

  “Then you should be fine.” Decker rubbed his neck and rolled his shoulders.

  “Are we going?” Cindy asked.

  Decker sidestepped the question. “You know, if Koby hadn’t fired back, it would have made your life simpler—”

  “Dad, youweren’t there.”

  “Just hear me out, okay?”

  Livid, she sat back in the seat, arms crossed over her chest, immediately defensive and angry. But she kept her mouth shut. Decker knew she was listening with half an ear.

  He said, “If he hadn’t fired back, it would have made your life simpler. Don’t interrupt, even though you’re dying to, all right?”

  “I’m not interrupting! Go on!”

  Decker said, “If he hadn’t firedyour weapon, they wouldn’t have pulledyou off duty. They would have just given you the day off, done a one-two inquiry, and that would have been that. Because no one in the opposing car could have possibly gotten hurt and there wouldn’t have been even the remotest possibility of a lawsuit . . . which now there is, of course. If someone got hurt, lots of questions are going to be asked, and guess whose derriere is in the hot seat?”

  Cindy spoke through a clenched jaw. “He did the right thing!”

  “Stop fuming! Why did he have to shoot?”

  “Because we were under attack.”

  “You couldn’t get away?”

  “No, Dad, I couldn’t get away. That was thepoint! ”

  “Would you have done the same thing if the positions had been reversed? Would you have shot at the Nova?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah, I think I would have—”

  “Youthink? ”

  “Idefinitely would have, all right?”

  “I hope you mean that. I hope you sincerely feel that that was the right way to fly. Because he bought you lots of hassle—”

  “He did the right thing!” She turned to him, her face red and furious. “You know, maybe I will take a cab—”

  “Stop—”

  “I just dealt with those morons for four hours and I’m not in the mood for this garbage, okay?”

  Decker held her arm. “You want to know what I think?”

  “No, actually, I don’t want to know. But I’m sure I’m going to find out.”

  “Iknow that Koby absolutely did the right thing. And I know why.” His eyes zoomed in on his daughter’s. “The question is . . . do you know why?”

  Cindy glared at him. It was then that Decker noticed her eyes were wet. She wiped them and said, “I’m a little tired for a test right now. Get to the point.”

  Decker shrugged. “If he hadn’t shot back, if he hadn’t reacted . . . nobody, and I meannobody, would have wanted to work with you. They would have taken one look at his shot-out car and they’d all be thinking, what thehell wasshe doing while this was going down? Was she ducking while he was dodging bullets? What if that had beenmy ass behind the wheel? No one wants a partner who freezes.”

  Cindy’s mouth opened. A moment later, she shut it.

  Decker said, “He knew the cardinal rule, Cynthia. It’s better to be overreactive and alive than rational and dead. Do you know why he knew it?”

  She looked away, waiting for him to continue.

  “Because for that one brief moment, he was back in combat being hammered by the PLO or Hamas or Hezbollah or whatever terrorist organization they have over there. Your boyfriend understands survival—the mentality that says,It’s either you or me, buddy. Doyou understand that menta
lity, Cindy?”

  She took in her father’s eyes, but couldn’t quite hold them. “Probably not in the same way that you two do. But I think after my experiences last year, I’ve shown myself to be a good fighter.”

  “Cynthia, you are as tough as they come. Like I told you, life has thrown you some bad curveballs, and you cope far better than I do. But you’re also a good girl. Compassion isn’t always the answer.”

  “You think I’m sheltered.”

  “Of course, you’re sheltered.”

  “How can you say that after what happened to me?”

  “Nobody could have survived what you did. I’m so damn . . .” Decker’s eyes turned moist. “Honey, all I’m saying is you need torecognize threat. You have to ask yourself, if you had been in Koby’s position, would you have ducked in the passenger’s seat or would you have taken out your gun and opened fire?”

  “I gave him the gun, you know.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  She was quiet, giving the question some honest thought. “The best I can come up with is I’m almost positive I would have done the same thing. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Now can I have the phone, please?”

  “No, you can’t.” Again he drilled into her eyes. “Koby’s bought you a whole lot of goodwill.”

  “So let me call and thank him.”

  “No, because right now, I’m going to buy you a set of balls.”

  Silence. Cindy blinked, staring at her father. “I’ve done okay for twenty-eight years without them. What on earth do you have in mind?”

  Decker answered her question by starting the Porsche. It roared, then purred. He peeled rubber, going south onto Wilton until he hit Olympic. Then he went east toward downtown L.A. “Somebody tried to kill you, Cynthia. Aren’t you curious?”

  She didn’t answer. The question was rhetorical.

  Decker said, “Am I correct in assuming that you still have no idea who perpetrated the hit-and-run against Belinda Syracuse?”

  “Yes. I don’t have a clue.”

  “It’s an open case?”

  “So far as I know.”

  “So let’s junk that because we haven’t any leads. Now Sarah Sanders’s rape is a different story. Tell me about the guy you hauled in.”

  “Germando El Paso.”

  “Yeah, him. Do you know where he is at the moment?”