Street Dreams (36 page)

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Authors: Faye Kellerman

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #FIC022000

BOOK: Street Dreams
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“I hide behind her skirt,” he whispered. “It’s
emasculating!

“Fuck that!” Decker told him. “You helped my little girl! To me, you’ve got a fine set of
baytzim
in your jeans, and right now I’m the only one you have to impress. The rest is
bullshit!

Koby looked at him. “You know Hebrew.”

“Selected words.”

“I
should be talking to the detectives, not her.”

“Koby, she’d
still
be talking to them because she’s the
cop
.”
Patience,
Decker told himself. “She did the right thing. But even if she was wrong—and she’s not—but even if she was, it’s too late.
So let’s move on, okay?”

He rubbed his forehead. “What next?”

“First let me ask you a couple of questions,” Decker said. “Why was she driving your car?”

“We switched places after she noticed the tail. She said she knew how to pop the clutch to get maximum pickup if we have to
make a quick exit. I think she wanted to drive, so I don’t argue.” Koby ran a finger across the hammered metal dash. “Over
the years, I’ve found it is not so good to argue with women you like.”

“I’ll second that.”

“I really, really like”—he regarded Decker—“I
love
her, Lieutenant. I cannot tell her no.”

Decker smiled. “You’re in trouble, guy.”

“I know. It is not good to feel so strong about a woman.” Koby leaned forward onto the dash and regarded the empty street
scene. “
Ye-isat gize.
What can I do? I am weak.”

To be in love was to be weak. … Cultural differences … or maybe not. Decker gave him a pat on the back. “Had you ever fired
a handgun before?”

“I was in the army.”

“Ah, right. They might paraffin you.”

“I washed my hands with soap up to the elbows.” He sat back in the seat and stared upward. “Cindy told me to do it.”

“She’s my daughter, all right.” Decker organized his thoughts. “Now that I know what went on, I can help her. You did the
right thing.”

Koby blew out air. “She will be mad that I told you.”

“She’ll get over it. You did what was best for her.”

“I hope you are right.”

“I know I’m right. I don’t tell you how to administer CPR, you don’t tell me about LAPD.” Decker paused. “Actually, I could
tell you how to administer CPR. I was a medic in Vietnam.”

Koby turned to him. “I was a medic, too.”

“How old were you when you went in?”

“Seventeen.”

“A youngster. I was nineteen. Two years?”

“In Israel, the service is three years for boys, two for girls. It was bad over there in Vietnam, no?”

“Yes, it was very bad.”

“You were in combat?”

“Yes. My tour ended right before the Easter offensive. I wasn’t in the front lines, although they usually sent us with the
infantry in teams of six to eight men. I did dustoffs—rode the chopper in, then evacuated the wounded after the raids. It
could have been worse.”

“For me as well. I was in Lebanon toward the end, so the fighting wasn’t as fierce. Still, it was right after the Berlin Wall
fell and the Soviet Union was still a presence. Between the USSR and Syria and Iran, Hezbollah was very well armed. Lots of
border skirmishes. They kept me up north for a while … near Ma’alot, where Arafat—
yemach sh’mo
—and his Fatah thugs shot up a busload of schoolchildren on a field trip. So tension was high but not nearly as bad as Gaza.
I was there for six months, dodging booby traps from Hamas and the PLO, trying to prevent them from blowing up civilians.
It wasn’t as bad as today—for some stupid reason, the world thinks it wise to arm the PLO—but it had its moments.”

He paused, then gave a half smile to Decker.

“Upon reflection, with all that’s going on in the world, this is not so terrible.”

“It’s all perspective, my man.” Decker shook his head.
What crazy times!
“Your car’s going to be impounded. I’ll make sure a cruiser takes you home. You have any other source of transportation for
getting to work?”

“A bike. I’m fine down the hill. Up is not so good.”

Decker smiled. “Call a cab and go rent a car tomorrow. I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed one way or the other. Wait outside.
I’ll go in and send around a black-and-white for you.”

“I’d like to wait for Cindy.”

“She really is going to be tied up for hours. I’ll take care of her.” Decker clenched his jaw. “Believe me, Koby, I’ll take
good
care of her—of
both
of you.”

Koby eyed him. “You’re not a man to cross.”

“I’m
very
protective of my children.”

“I’m sure that is true, Lieutenant Decker. Still, I wait for Cindy.”

Decker regarded the face—the determined eyes, the stubborn mouth. He wasn’t going to budge until he saw her. Decker had thought
Koby was decent. Seeing how he reacted in a crisis improved the impression considerably.

“How about this? How about if I get her so she can say goodbye to you?”

“I will wait all night for her. But I go when she says okay. How does that sound?”

Decker nodded. “Fair enough. I’m cold. Let’s go back inside.”

The coffee sat in my stomach like battery acid—a combination of fatigue and neurotransmitters racing through my system. I
had gone over the events about a dozen times. By the look on Justice Brill’s face, he still wasn’t satisfied. Both he and
Lieutenant Stone were being gentlemanly, but I had the distinct feeling they were sick of my face.

Brill said, “So it was what? An ’80s Nova … ’90s?”

“Around 1990,” I answered. “Bronze paint but peeling. Primer around the driver’s door. Illegally darkened windows. I seem
to recall a dented front bumper and grille.”

“You shot out the hood?”

“I’m pretty sure I hit it. It was smoking pretty bad when the car finally peeled off.”

Stone said, “But you didn’t hit the front windshield.”

“I don’t know, sir.” Third time he asked the question. “I might have. The windshield didn’t shatter. That much I do know.”

“And you didn’t call for backup because your phone was dead?” Brill inquired again.

This time, I pulled the cell phone out of my purse. “You get a connection, you win the prize.”

Brill depressed the power button. “You know there are lots of new products on the market with longer battery life.”

“I’ll buy a new one tomorrow … today.” I rubbed my forehead. “As soon as the stores open.”

“And your friend didn’t have a cell on him?”

“No.”

“He’s a nurse, but he doesn’t carry a cell?”

“He’s a nurse, Detective Brill, not a doctor. He’s not on call.”

“This is the same guy you sent away at Boss’s?”

They were covering the same ground, but I had no choice but to bear with it. “Yes.”

“And the same guy was with you at the hit-and-run?”

“Yes.”

“You two have run into an amazing spate of bad luck.”

“We’ve had other uneventful dates, Justice.” I regarded Lieutenant Stone. “Are you going to send a shooting team?”

“To do what, Decker? We don’t have the Nova in our possession and the plates on it were stolen, so we can’t get an address
on them through the DMV. When and if the Nova’s found, then we’ll talk.”

“Any hospitals report admissions of gunshot-wound victims?”

“Still checking.”

The door opened and my father walked in. One part of me was vastly relieved, the other part immediately tensed.

“Mack,” he said.

“Pete.” Stone stood and they shook hands. He made introductions. “Detective Brill, Detective Lieutenant Decker.”

“We’ve met,” Dad answered.

Stone said, “I think you know the other party here.”

“Yes, we’ve met as well.”

Daddy placed his hand on my shoulder. I craned my neck up. “The plates were stolen. I’m voting Germando El Paso over the hit-and-run
guy, but you never know.”

“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 so
damn
hard?” Tears leaked out. “I’m fine, but surely a
little 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’d
never
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.”

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