Hangman. Faye Kellerman

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      “Just like I left it,” Gabe said.

      And not too different from when Decker had left. The flowers that Chris had given Terry had been put into a vase and sat on the sofa table. Donatti’s Scotch glass lay in the sink of the bar. The trash had been cleared and the living-room sofa had been folded out into a bed, a room service breakfast menu and a few chocolates left on a silver tray. Water on the coffee table and music coming from a Bose stereo system, the station set on classical music.

      “You sleep here?”

      Gabe nodded.

      Decker walked into the bedroom. Terry’s bed had also been prepared. “Were the beds turned down when you arrived here at around six?”

      “No, sir, they came in later. Around eight.” A pause. “I probably shouldn’t have let them in, huh.”

      “It doesn’t matter, Gabe.” Decker studied the room. There were a lot of clothes in the closet and a small safe. Decker asked the boy if he knew the combination number.

      “Uh, not to this one. But I know the code she usually uses.”

      “Could you try to open it?”

      “Sure.”

      Gabe punched in a set of numbers. It took him a couple of tries, but eventually the door opened. It was loaded with cash and jewelry. Decker said, “Do you have anything to transport the valuables in?”

      “Why?”

      “If your mom doesn’t come back, you can’t stay here alone.”

      “I’ll be all right.”

      “I’m sure you can take care of yourself, but I’m a cop and you’re a minor. I’d be in violation of the law if I let you stay here alone. Plus, under the circumstances, I wouldn’t want you alone even if you were eighteen.”

      “Where are you going to take me?”

      “You’ve got a choice.” Decker rubbed his temples. “I know you have a grandfather and an aunt that live in L.A. Would you feel comfortable calling either of them up? I’ll be happy to take you over there.”

      “Is that my only choice?”

      “You could spend the night at my house and hopefully things will work out in the morning.”

      “That would be my first choice. I’d way prefer that to my grandfather. My aunt is nice, but she’s a little ditzy. She’s not much older than I am.”

      “How old is Melissa?”

      “Twenty-one…a very young twenty-one.”

      “All right. So this is what we’ll do. You go home with my wife. I’m going to stick around here for a while and try to figure out what’s going on.”

      “Why can’t I stay here with you while you try to figure it out?”

      “Because it may take a long time. It’s best if you go home with my wife and let me do my job. I’ll catch you in the morning. If your mom comes home, I’ll call you right away. And if you happen to hear from either your mother or father, you call me right away, so I’m not spinning my wheels. Fair enough?”

      The boy nodded. “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it.”

      “No problem.” Decker pulled out a notepad. “I have your mom’s number. I’ll need your dad’s number and your cell number.”

      Gabe rattled off a series of number. “You know that my dad changes phones all the time. A number might be working one day and disconnected the next.”

      “When was the last time you spoke to your dad?”

      “Let me think. Chris called me Saturday morning…around eleven. He’d just landed. He told me he was at the airport and was meeting with Mom tomorrow.”

      “And you said?”

      “I don’t really remember. Something like…cool. Then he asked me how she was and I said she was fine. It was like a two-minute conversation…which is pretty typical for us.” Gabe bit his lip. “Chris doesn’t really like me. I’m an annoyance, something that stands between him and Mom. He rarely talks to me unless it’s about my music or my mom. But he’s forced to deal with me because I’m what links him and Mom together. It’s really messed up.”

      “Your father’s messed up. You wouldn’t happen to know his flight number, would you?”

      Gabe shook his head.

      “Do you know what airlines he usually chooses?”

      “When he doesn’t fly privately, he takes American first class coast to coast. He likes to stretch out.”

      “If he left the L.A. area, where do you think he’d go?”

      “He could go home. Or he could go to Nevada and camp out there for a while.”

      “He owns brothels in Elko, doesn’t he?” When the boy blushed, Decker said, “Would you know the name of his places?”

      “One’s the Pleasure Dome.” His face was bright red. “The Pleasure Palace…he has like three or four places with word ‘pleasure’ in them.”

      “Have you tried calling the places?”

      The boy shook his head. “I don’t have the numbers. They might be listed. I could call up information if you want.”

      “No, I can take it from here. Why don’t you pack a few things, take out the money and the jewelry from the safe, and then I’ll walk you back to the lobby.”

      “I’m so sorry to be a pain. I feel like a jerk.”

      “It’s no problem.” He put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. At first the kid stiffened, but then his shoulders relaxed under the weight of Decker’s arm. “And don’t be too concerned. It’ll probably work out.”

      “Everything works out. Sometimes it works out good. And sometimes it works out bad. It’s the bad that concerns me.”

       CHAPTER FOUR

      THE CAR WAS quiet on the way home, the boy staring out at the passenger window, looking like a forlorn puppy. Rina didn’t even bother to try to engage him. It took all of her energy to drive Peter’s Porsche. He had souped up the engine to God-only-knows-how-many horsepower and the clutch required muscle. Thank goodness most of the ride was on an empty freeway and in one gear.

      As soon as she parked in the driveway, the kid leaped out of the car like a caged cat finally set free. His baggage was a school knapsack that he carried by one strap, a laptop, and a small duffel. He was tall for his age, with spindly legs. His pants had a hard time staying on his nonexistent hips.

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