Blood Games. Faye Kellerman

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ were that close to coming home, we would have waited for you at the deli.”

      “It’s better this way.” He took Rina’s hand. He had showered before he ate, changing from his suit to a sweatshirt and sweatpants. “Where’s the kid?”

      “Practicing.”

      “How’s he doing?”

      “Seems to be okay. Did you know that Terry contacted him?”

      “No, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. When was this?”

      “About a week ago.” Rina recapped the conversation. “It obviously upset him. He wasn’t himself over dinner tonight. Whenever he gets uncomfortable, he talks about his upcoming competitions. Paradoxically, competition seems to calm him down. Renting him a piano is a lot cheaper than therapy.”

      The baby grand was in the garage—the only place where they had enough room. Gabe shared his music studio with Decker’s Porsche, workbench, and power tools and Rina’s planting and potting station. They had soundproofed the space because the kid practiced at the oddest hours. But since he was homeschooled and was basically done with high school, they let him march to his own drummer. He wasn’t even sixteen and had already gotten into Juilliard and early action at Harvard. Even if they were his legal guardians—which they weren’t—there was really no guidance left to give him. At this point, they were just providing him with food, a safe shelter, and a little company.

      “Tell me about your day,” Rina said.

      “Pretty routine except for the last half hour.” Decker recapped his puzzling conversation with Wendy Hesse.

      “That poor woman.”

      “She must be really hurting if she wants a homicide over suicide.”

      “Is that what the coroner ruled? Suicide?”

      Decker nodded.

      “So then … she just doesn’t want to believe it.”

      “True. Usually the ominous signs are there but parents look the other way. I honestly believe that Wendy is dumbfounded.” He smoothed his mustache. “You know when we first met and you were adamant about sending the boys to Jewish day school, I thought you were nuts. For what we were paying in tuition, we could have sent the boys to Lawrence or Bell and Wakefield, not a school housed in a one-story dilapidated building that doesn’t even have a library and a computer lab.”

      Rina smiled. “Many people would have agreed.”

      “But I’ve gotta say, most of the kids we’ve met are nice. Granted, I’m seeing the worst of the prep school teens, but I don’t think those places breed healthy attitudes. On balance, you did the right thing.”

      “The school, although disorganized and sorely lacking in resources, is a very kind place. Thank you for saying that.”

      Decker leaned back. “You talk to any of the kids today?”

      “Of course, the boys are busy as usual. I did Skype with Hannah this morning. She was just going to bed. She’ll probably be up in a couple of hours.”

      “I miss her.” Decker looked sad. “Maybe I’ll give Cindy a call. Find out what she’s up to.”

      Rina smiled. “Grandchildren are always the antidote to what ails you.”

      “You want to take a ride over and see them?”

      “You should ask Cindy first.”

      “Yeah, I guess I have to do that.” Decker made a phone call and hung up grinning. “She said, come on over.”

      “Then let’s go.”

      “What about Gabe?”

      “I’ll tell him we’re going,” Rina said. “He likes Cindy and Koby, but I have a feeling he’ll decline. He wasn’t himself today. Maybe it has to do with his mother. Anyway, when he gets like that, he retreats inward.”

      Decker took in her words. “Should I talk to him?”

      “He’ll just tell you everything’s okay.”

      “I don’t want him to feel like a stranger,” Decker said. “But I don’t do much to make him feel like a member of the family. I’d feel really guilty if I came home one day and found him in the same condition as Gregory Hesse.”

      Rina nodded. “I think his music is and always was his salvation.”

      “Is it enough?”

      “I don’t know. All I can tell you is he’s functioning well. He takes the bus twice a week to USC for his lessons, he did all his own college applications even though I offered to help, he went for his own interviews and auditions even though I offered to come with him, and he booked his own flights and hotel rooms even though I offered to do it. He’s already guaranteed admission into Harvard and Juilliard. It seems to me like he wouldn’t be planning his future if he didn’t think he had one.” Rina paused. “If you want to do something nice for him, take him out driving. That excites him.”

      “Okay, I’ll take him out on Sunday.”

      “He really admires your Porsche.”

      “Uh, let’s not carry this niceness thing too far. Being emotionally sensitive is one thing. The Porsche is quite another.”

      THE COFFEE BEAN was about two miles from the Starbucks where Gabe had encountered Dylan and posse, hopefully out of their range of operation. Not that he expected to meet up with anyone else at six in the morning. The place was empty and that was just fine. He had chosen a padded leather seat in the back, after he bought a bagel and a large coffee as well as the New York Times. When he lived back east, he read the Post. It felt strange reading the intellectual paper when all he wanted to do was read “Weird but True” or “Page Six” to find out who was banging whom.

      The café was about fifteen minutes away from his bus stop to USC. Tuesdays and Thursdays were lesson days with Nicholas Mark, and although he wasn’t scheduled to meet with his teacher until eleven, he decided to get a jump on the day. He had slept fitfully last night. His mother’s voice knocking around in his head …

      He slathered cream cheese onto his bagel and started skimming through the news, which was even more depressing than his current life. A few minutes later, he felt the presence of eyes and looked up.

      A kid in the Jewish school uniform. Not surprising since the place was a two-minute walk from the day school. She must have had mufflers on her feet since he hadn’t heard a thing until she was standing over him, clutching her backpack as if it were armor.

      Her smile was shy. “Hi.”

      “Hi,” he answered. Upon a second glance, he realized that she was probably older than he had initially thought. She had a mocha complexion, a small, pointed chin, full lips, and big black round eyes topped with black eyebrows carefully arched and shaped. Her hair was equally as dark, very long and tied into a ponytail. She was actually cute, although her body wasn’t much—two scoops of ice cream for a chest and not a curve in sight. “Did you need something?”

СКАЧАТЬ