Decker 15 by Faye Kellerman

Author:Faye Kellerman [Kellerman, Faye]
Format: epub
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 2010-02-17T08:11:16+00:00

27

Germando El Paso’sjuvenile officer hadn’t returned my call, so I figured I might as well spend another fruitless night following up theories that evaporated like steam. I headed for Boss’s twenty-four-hour coffeehouse, a place that catered to freaks, chumps, hypes, and other ne’er-do-wells who couldn’t hack it in daylight hours. I was hoping to espy “Mr. Tiger Tattoo” himself. Alice Anne had produced a solid hit, so I made a mental note to slip her another ten-spot the next time I saw her.I was seated by a toothpick of a guy with bad acne who appeared to be coming off a bad jones. Lucky for me, he was the maître d’ and not my server. That position was given to a captivating lady with blue spiked hair who dressed in black vinyl. She had a pierced upper lip and a pierced nose and small silver chain connecting the two metal studs together. I wondered if it hurt when she sneezed.

She poured me some coffee and left me the pot. I had brought the morning paper and was skimming the usual bad news, having made myself comfortable in a torn Naugahyde booth in the far end of the restaurant after sweeping bread crumbs off the tabletop with my hands. I kept a sharp eye out for my prey, and though I saw a good sideshow, Germando wasn’t part of it. I sipped coffee and munched on dry lettuce leaves of what was professed to be a dinner salad. When my cell phone rang, I jumped. I had forgotten to turn it off.

“Decker.”

“I just got off shift. Are you still in the neighborhood?”

The voice from the netherworld. I didn’t want to lie, but I definitely didnot want to see him. “It’s late.”

“You could come to my place,” Koby purred. “I’ll fix you something to eat . . . give you a massage. . . .”

As anger played inside my gut, I tried to keep my voice even. “Sounds like a booty call.”

Silence over the line.

“No, Cindy, not at all.”

“Then explain it to me.”

The seconds ticked.

“Let’s try it again.” His voice was more somber. “I’m off all day Sunday. I’d love to see you. How about brunch and we go from there?”

That meant spending money on me. A step up, but I stillwasn’t interested. So now I did lie. “I’m working Sunday.”

“Actually, I’m off Saturday night through Monday morning. Actually, Friday night through Monday, but Saturday isShabbat. But if Saturday is your only time, I can see you then. Please. Just give me a time.”

What in the world was going through that man’s head? Nothing for four days, then “Mr. Solicitous.” More than likely, he was horny. “Saturday I meet my mother for lunch. It’s sacrosanct.”

Another pause. “What does that mean . . . the word?”

“ ‘Sacrosanct’? It means if I miss a weekend with her, she goes ballistic.”

“Maybe after lunch, then . . .”

Not missing a beat. Tenacity had probably been a very useful asset for him. I relented, probably because he had asked me what “sacrosanct” meant.

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