“And how long do you intend to live out here…in the house that I’m renting?”
“Usually leases are for a year.”
“That’s a long time.”
Terry leaned forward. “Chris, I’m not asking for a legal separation just a physical one. After what happened, that’s the least you can do.”
“I’m not arguing with you, Terry, I’m just trying to get an idea of how long. If you want a year, take a year. It’s about you, not me.”
She was silent. Then she said, “You’ll know where I am, you’ll have a key to the house. Come whenever you want. I’m not going anywhere. Fair enough?”
“More than fair.” Donatti forced his lips upward. “It’s not bad for me to have a hitching post on the West Coast anyway. It’s probably a good idea.”
“So I did you a favor.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Twelve thousand a month. How big is this sucker?”
Terry gave him a smile—a cross between humor and flirtatiousness. “It has four bedrooms, Chris. I think we can work something out.”
Donatti’s smile turned genuine. “Okay.” He took a sip of his booze, then laughed. “Okay. If that’s what you want…fine. Maybe you’ll actually miss me when I’m gone.”
“You can dream.”
“Very funny.”
“Are you hungry?” Terry’s eyes ran up and down his body. “You lost weight.”
“I’ve been a little anxious.”
“How would you know what anxiety feels like?”
Donatti looked at Decker, his eyes unreadable. “The girl’s a wit.”
“Are you hungry, Chris?” Terry asked him.
“I could eat.”
“They have a world-class restaurant.” She glanced at a diamond wristwatch sitting among her gold bracelets. “It’s open. I wouldn’t mind something.”
“Great.” He started to stand, but then looked at Decker. “Can I get up without you shooting me?”
“Go down to the restaurant and get something for the two of you, Chris. Get a table next door for me. We’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
Donatti’s expression turned sour. “We’ll be in a public place, Decker. Nothing’s going to happen. How about a little privacy?”
“I’ll be sitting at another table,” Decker said. “Whisper if you don’t want me to hear. Go ahead. We’ll meet you there.”
Donatti rolled his eyes. “Do I get my steel back?”
“Eventually,” Decker said.
“You can keep the ammo, just give me the pieces.”
“Eventually.”
“What do you think I’m going to do? Coldcock you?”
“I wasn’t even thinking along those lines, but now that you mention it, you are unpredictable.”
He turned to Terry. “Do you care if I pack?”
“It’s up to him,” Terry said.
“They’re worthless without ammo.” When Decker didn’t reply, Chris said, “C’mon. It would show good faith. All I’m asking for is what’s mine.”
“I hear you, Chris.” Decker opened the door. “But you can’t always get what you want.”
The two men faced off. Then Donatti shrugged. “Whatever.” He swaggered through the door without looking back.
Decker shook his head. “That’s one icy dude.” He regarded Terry. “You handled him very well.”
“I hope so. At the very least, it’ll buy me some time to think.”
Decker noticed she was shaking. “Are you all right, Terry?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little…” Perspiration dripped from her forehead. She wiped her face with a tissue. “You know what they say, Lieutenant.” Nervous laughter. “Never let them see you sweat.”
AS LONG AS Decker was in the city—about twenty miles from his front door—Rina made reservations to meet for dinner at one of the many kosher restaurants along Pico Boulevard. They left her parents’ house at six, and a half hour later, they were in a booth, sipping glasses of Côtes du Rhône. Although Peter wasn’t a big talker, tonight he seemed unusually subdued, so Rina was happy to carry on the bulk of the conversation. Maybe Peter was hungry. She figured he’d join in when the mood hit. But even after polishing off his rib steak, fries, and salad, he remained quiet.
“What’s going on inside that cranium of yours?” Rina finally asked.
“Nothing.” “I don’t believe you.”
“See, that’s where you females mess up. Whenever we men don’t talk, you ascribe it to some deep inner meditation we’re having with ourselves. In my case, I was thinking about dessert—whether it was worth the calories.”
“If you’d like, we can split something.”
“Which means I eat ninety percent.”
“How about we forgo the desert and just have some coffee. You look a little beat.”
“Do I?” Decker stroked his red-and-gray mustache as if he was thinking of something profound. While his facial hair still retained some of its youthful, fiery color, his head hair was more white than orange, but there was still plenty of it.
He smiled at his wife. Rina had changed to a deep purple satin dress that she kept in her mother’s closet. Although she was way too religious to ever show cleavage, the neckline did accentuate her lovely throat. He had given her a pair of two-carat diamond studs for her forty-fifth birthday and she wore them every chance she got. He loved to see her in expensive things, even though with his paycheck, that didn’t happen very often. “I guess I am a little tired.”
“Then let’s just go home.”
“No, no. I could use a cup of coffee.”
“Okay.” Rina touched his hands. “You’re not just tired, you’re bothered. What happened this afternoon?”
“I told you. Everything went smoothly.”
“And yet you remain perplexed.”
Decker chose his words. “When she talked to him…she appeared confident…clearly in control.”
“Maybe she was with you around.”
“I’m sure there was some of that. And he was contrite, so she had a certain amount of free rein. I don’t know, Rina. She was bossy almost. When they had lunch, she did most of the talking.”
“You could hear them?”
“I could see them. She clearly dominated their conversation.”
“Maybe when she gets nervous, she talks.”
“Could be. Before we met him for lunch, we spoke a few minutes. All of a sudden she started shaking and broke out in a cold sweat.”
“So there you go.”
“But there was something else, Rina. If I didn’t know any of the backstories, I would have sworn she was acting flirtatious at lunch—downright sexy. Something