The Lost Boys

by Faye Kellerman

  “Poor woman.”

  “Yeah, a victim of her own poor judgment. Anyway, with Devek gone, I guess she’s more comfortable with me. Do you want some of my muffin? It’s kosher.”

  “I know. I saw the certificate. This is fine for now.” She took a sip. “Delicious.”

  “Yeah, they make good coffee.” He looked at Rina. “We lost over ten years, Mom and me. I grew up into an adult, and she missed it all.”

  “She did, Gabe, but from what you’ve told me, she always treated you as an adult.”

  “True.” He nodded. “I suppose that’s why our relationship is pretty much where we left off. I do feel bad for her. I hate to see her in distress. First with Dad, then with that jerk. I just can’t help her now.”

  “It is unreasonable for her to expect you to help her.”

  “I still feel bad. I would hate for anything to happen to her or my siblings. Do you think she’s exaggerating?”

  “I don’t know. When is she moving back to Los Angeles?”

  “I think as soon as she can make arrangements to get out of here. I hope we can spend some catch-up time together in the future. I go to Los Angeles pretty often.”

  “Gabriel, if what she is saying has any truth, be careful you’re not being watched.”

  “I know. I’m cautious to the point of paranoia. I did learn a few tricks from Chris.”

  “Yes, I know. But you’re only one person, and who knows what her husband is up to. And tell Yasmine to be careful as well.”

  “I will. She’s studying all the time, so it’s easier for her to live on campus.”

  “You two don’t live together?”

  “No. Her parents would never approve. She’ll spend the night occasionally, but I’ll tell her not to come over to my place until this thing with my mom is resolved.” Gabe wolfed down the muffin. “I’ve got to teach a master class in about twenty minutes. Thanks so much for coming and meeting up with me. You and Peter are always there when I need you most. Don’t think I’m not aware of that.”

  “You’re welcome. We’ll see you tonight?”

  “If I don’t get kidnapped, yes.”

  “Don’t joke, Gabe.”

  “Who’s joking?”

  CHAPTER 14

  MAKING THE PHONE call outside the apartment, away from prying ears, Decker called Leo Novis, Joshua Freelander, and Sally née Kelton now Goldberg. The conversations lasted five to ten minutes each and were not very illuminating. He went back up to fetch McAdams, who had made himself a pop-up office in the Anderson study.

  Decker said, “Let’s go for a cup of coffee.”

  McAdams rubbed his eyes. “Good idea.”

  They found Mary in the kitchen, standing over the marble counter, slicing vegetables for a salad on a plastic cutting board. Decker said, “We’ll be back in about a half hour.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Just out for coffee.”

  “I can make you coffee.”

  “I need to stretch my legs,” McAdams said. “Thanks all the same.”

  “You don’t want me to hear.” She put down the knife and looked them in the eye. “Nothing you can tell me is worse than that initial phone call telling me Zeke was missing.”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Decker said. “If I find anything new, you’ll be the first to know. I really do need a bit of fresh air.”

  “I suppose I’ll accept that. I have no choice.” She went over to a wall and took a key off of a rack. “Keep this. You’re free to come in anytime and look at our notes. I’ll give you the alarm code.”

  Decker said, “Thank you for your trust, but we’ll be back in about a half hour. Will you be home?” When she nodded, he handed her the key. “We’ll ring in.”

  She closed her hand around the key. “You will keep going with this, right?”

  “We will.” Decker smiled. “See you in a bit.”

  As they rode the elevator, McAdams said, “That’s weird, handing over the key.”

  “It creates an intimacy. The more connected I feel to them, the more I’ll want to solve the case. What she doesn’t realize is I always feel connected. I take these things very personally.”

  “They gave up at some point,” McAdams said. “Otherwise why relegate the files to the basement?”

  “I agree.” They walked several blocks until Decker saw an espresso machine through a glass door in a storefront. “This okay?”

  “Fine.”

  They sat at one of the four tables and ordered two coffees. Decker said, “By the accounts of his former friends, Zeke seemed like a very nice kid. If he was a big doper, they didn’t know about it. If he was a dealer, they didn’t know about it. If he had any weird preoccupations with the occult or the dangerous, they didn’t know about it.”

  “Okay. Nothing in high school. But like I said, in college kids change. They experiment—drugs, alcohol, and sex.”

  “Yeah, the triad.” Decker paused. “The only thing I found out is that he might have been gay.”

  “Hence no college girls.”

  “Or sex just wasn’t his thing,” Decker said. “The girl he dated in high school, Sally Kelton, told me he was respectful, maybe a little too respectful. Her words, not mine. But nothing she could pinpoint. He just was a solid kid—idealistic and excited to be out in the world. Right now, I’m baffled as to a motive for a murder.”

  “If it was a murder.”

  “Why? What did you find out?”

  “I only got through one PI.” McAdams took out his notebook. “Selwin Barnaby. He was on the case for two months. He started with the college, naturally, since that’s where Zeke disappeared. Barnaby spoke to people he knew there. He interviewed Jack Carlson.”

  “And?”

  “Barnaby’s report indicated that Zeke and Jack had different interests. Jack liked to party, Zeke was a perennial cause person: global warming—now it’s called climate change—the homeless, third world poverty, third world sickness, police brutality, racism, sexism, elitism … lots of isms.”

  “Idealistic.” Decker took a sip of coffee. “Nothing wrong with that. His parents said he most certainly would not own a gun.”

  “So, the gun—which may or may not exist—didn’t belong to him.”

  “Something blew a hole in his chest.” Decker thought a moment. “Zeke was really keen on working out. That’s kind of a narcissistic thing—perfecting your body.”

  “Yeah, it fits more with what the PI learned about Bennett McCrae.”

  “Did he work for the McCraes?”

  “No, but in investigating Zeke, he looked into Bennett, who seemed to be quite the party guy,” McAdams said. “He and Jack knew each other well because they went to the same bashes. Bennett came alive with people. He was the more usual college guy—he drank, he smoked, he hooked up.”

  “Was he known to camp out a lot?”

  “Bennett? No idea. But it seems to me that it wasn’t a natural fit for his busy social life. The PI didn’t say a whole lot about Max Velasquez. He didn’t have many friends, he was really shy, he didn’t date. Most of his classmates said he was kind of nerdy—which must mean real nerdy because most of his classmates were probably on the spectrum.”

  “Tut, tut.” Decker smiled. “Isn’t that being a bit … mathist?”

  McAdams smiled back. “Stereotypes grow up for a reason. I’d be your typical aggressive asshole attorney if I practiced law. Instead I’m your typical aggressive asshole cop.”

  “I’m a cop,” Decker said. “I am not an asshole.”

  “Depends who you ask.”

  “Low blow.”

  McAdams smiled. “I was referring to felons, not colleagues.”

  “Most of my felons and I got along. We all knew where we stood. Anyway, is there anything in the notes to suggest what might have gotten Zeke in trouble?”

  “No.” McAdams finished his coffee. “I’m hungry. You want a pastry? I think the place might be kosher.”

>   “Why would you say that?”

  “There’s a certificate in the corner saying it’s kosher.” Decker laughed and then McAdams said, “There are sandwiches. How about mozzarella, tomato, and basil on a French roll.”

  “Sure.”

  McAdams placed the order and came back to the table. “From my reading, if anyone would be involved in funny business, it would be Bennett.”

  Decker said, “First, let’s read through all the material we have on Zeke Anderson and see if we missed anything. Then we’ll read through it again. And then a third time. Because no matter how many times we read it, we’ll overlook something. Then we start looking at the others.”

  “Why can’t we do them all simultaneously?”

  “It’ll increase our odds that we’ll miss something with Zeke. Besides, we have his body, and that gives us justification to work the case as a homicide. For all we know, the two other men could still be alive.”

  “Right,” McAdams said. “What time is our appointment with Jack Carlson?”

  “Five.”

  “We’ll have to tell him that we found Zeke’s body.”

  “I think he sensed it when I called him up for an interview,” Decker said.

  “Of course,” McAdams answered. “When are we going to visit the other sets of parents?”

  Decker thought for a moment. “Soon. I was hoping that once they heard about Zeke—once it’s common knowledge—they’ll call us.”

  “If they don’t call us, that’ll tell us something.” McAdams got up and retrieved the sandwiches. When he got back to the table, Decker was on the phone. By the conversation, it was clear he was talking to Kevin Butterfield at the station house. After he hung up, McAdams asked, “What’s up?”

  “Still processing Schulung’s car. We’ll know more on Monday. The good news is that if something bad did happen, it didn’t happen in the automobile. Kevin and a few uniforms are going down the back roads, checking to see if there are any workable cameras in any of the houses or businesses. They’re also checking out service stations with convenience stores. Her car was littered with junk food.”

  “What about that truck stop?”

  “Yeah, right,” Decker said. “Kev paid it a visit, looked over the CCTV. Nothing promising so far.”

  McAdams said, “At some point Elsie switched cars with someone, right?”

  “Or she could have been murdered and is buried somewhere in the woods.” Decker seemed frustrated. “Butterfield’s looking for tire tracks. It hasn’t rained. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “To make it into that terrain, it must be a four-wheel drive.”

  “Elsie’s car wasn’t a four-wheel drive, but I see your point.”

  McAdams said, “Has anyone heard from Bertram’s parents?”

  “I don’t know.” Decker checked his watch. “I’ll give Dr. Lewis a ring. Maybe he’s had some luck.” He stood up and placed the call, then left a message. “Not answering. Or maybe he’s not answering me.”

  “Or maybe he has the weekend off.”

  “Lewis shouldn’t be relaxing with a resident missing,” Decker snapped. “I’m wondering if he might be in on Bertram’s disappearance.”

  “Why?” McAdams made a face. “What would be his motive?”

  “Bertram’s parents aren’t being cooperative. Maybe he’s doing something for them.”

  McAdams said, “Like what?”

  “Maybe Lewis is helping Bertram fake a kidnapping for money. We got the parents’ phone number from Lewis. Maybe that’s a fake too. Because I sure as hell can’t get hold of them.”

  “That is very odd,” McAdams agreed. “If Lewis is involved, he’s hiding it well.”

  “I agree with you there,” Decker said. “I will say, from what we’ve seen so far, he runs a pretty good ship. The residents do look happy. The place is clean, the employees don’t seem censored. I don’t get the feeling that there’s any underlying tension.”

  “I’ll go along with that,” McAdams said.

  Decker opened his sandwich and took a bite. “Thanks. It’s good. Going back to Zeke Anderson and the other students, do we have DNA on them?”

  “No DNA. But we have dental records.”

  “Fingerprints?”

  “Actually, we do have fingerprint cards,” McAdams said. “I think Duxbury has a policy of fingerprinting incoming freshmen. Why do you need fingerprints? We’re dealing with bones.”

  “We need to run them through AFIS. Maybe something will pop up.”

  “I think that was already done,” McAdams said.

  “How long ago was that?”

  “No idea.”

  “Ask Kevin to do it again. See if the men have resurfaced.”

  “I’ll do it now.” McAdams stood up and pulled out his cell. “I’ll just step outside. Reception’s better.”

  “Thanks.” Alone, Decker took another bite of his sandwich and stared at the wall, trying to clear his head. The photographs that hung were black-and-white pictures of narrow alleys lined with old doors inset into stone buildings. It could be Paris, it could be London, it could be Rome, it could be Jerusalem, it could be downtown Manhattan in some small enclave—somewhere antique, untouched from centuries ago.

  Wherever it was, Decker wished he were there.

  THERE WAS SOMETHING magical about being alone in the city without work and responsibility on the brain. The noise and congestion never bothered her: it settled in her head as a background hum. Rina was uptown, walking south on Madison, making her way back from the Jewish Museum on Fifth with a bag of Russ & Daughters mixed rugelach in her hand—truly a treat for the family if the bag ever made it there. She was desperately trying to limit herself to one cinnamon and one chocolate, but the aroma and the sugar were calling her name.

  After she passed Eighty-Sixth Street, her phone sprang to life with a blocked number. She almost let it go to voice mail but then she figured that it might be Peter calling from a police station. She slid her finger across her phone and answered the call.

  The low, menacing voice said, “I hear you’ve been talking to my wife.”

  Ex-wife, actually, but she didn’t correct him. Chris didn’t mean to sound menacing. It’s just the way he was. “Did Gabe call you?”

  “He did not.”

  “Then you just have ears everywhere, Mr. Donatti.”

  “I won’t argue with that.” Donatti paused. “Is it windy over there? I’m getting static.”

  “It is windy. Hold on.” Rina stopped walking and stood under an awning. “Better?”

  “Yes. What was the conversation about?”

  “Pardon?”

  Donatti sounded impatient. “Your conversation with my wife.”

  “Why don’t you call up Terry and ask her?”

  “I would except we haven’t been in contact for over a decade.”

  “Why the sudden interest in her?”

  “Could you answer the question? What was the conversation about?”

  “Call your son if you want information.”

  “He lies. You don’t.”

  “I don’t lie,” Rina said. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll break a confidence.”

  “Is she all right?” His voice softened. “Really, that’s all I want to know.”

  Rina paused. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

  “Is she all right, Rina? Yes or no?”

  “She’s okay.” For now.

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “She’s okay,” Rina repeated.

  “Does she need money?”

  “Ask Gabe.”

  “How much did he give her?”

  “Ask Gabe,” Rina repeated. “Chris, what’s going on? If you haven’t spoken to Terry in over a decade, why are you suddenly worried about her?”

  “Who said I was worried?”

  “When you ask if a person is all right, that means you’re concerned.”

  “I am concerned, but I’m not worried. If I get to the point wher
e I’m worried, I’ll surface.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Here and there.”

  “Are you more here or more there?”

  “I’m not in New York, if that’s what you’re asking. If you see my wife again, tell her to call me. I could be useful for her.”

  “How do you mean ‘useful’?”

  “Rina, we’ve known each other too long to play games,” Donatti said. “So I’m just going to lay it all out. I don’t know what bullshit she spun you, but her idiot husband has a gambling problem. He’s in debt up to his eyeballs to some very unsavory people. Terry is the mother of my son, and I don’t want her hurt. Furthermore, I don’t want her kids hurt. They’re nothing to me, but they are Gabe’s siblings. Something is off. Now, what did Terry tell you?”

  “Chris, I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’m not going to break a confidence. Why don’t you call her up? I’m sure you have her number.”

  “I haven’t phoned her in years. If I suddenly call her, she’ll get nervous and I don’t want to alarm her for no reason. I’ve tried to call Gabe, but he’s not answering. I’m a busy man. I don’t have spare time to keep calling people. You’re seeing Gabe tonight. Pass my message along.”

  “How do you know that?” Rina asked. “Do you have a tap on my phone?”

  “Just pass the message on.” A pause. “If I say please, will it help?”

  “I’ll let him know.” Rina paused. “Chris, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “I’m not holding back. It’s just what I told you. Her husband is in trouble. He borrowed money from the wrong people.”

  Rina’s heart was now racing, and she had to take a deep breath. “How do you know that Devek owes money to bad people? Did someone threaten you?”

  “Nobody threatens me and lives to tell the tale,” Donatti said. “I just know that the idiot is in deep, deep trouble. I also know that bad things can be avoided if you approach the situation with a little finesse and some reasonable recompense. Terry doesn’t have the money, but I do. Just tell Gabe to call me. I’ll tell him what he needs to know.”

  “If you really think that Terry’s in trouble, it’s unethical not to say something to her.”