Milk and Honey

Marge said, “Maybe he intended to wipe the apartment clean, but she stopped him by clobbering him with the lamp.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing. The gal’s dripping blood and has a collapsed lung, but she has enough strength to hit him with a lamp. And what’s he doing while she’s crawling on the floor and retrieving a lamp?”

“In the john?”

“She didn’t bong him as he exited the john. If I were him, I would have noticed her and stopped her.”

“He was too busy cleaning the shiv to notice.”

“Which brings us back to the first point, do you calmly clean your weapon after all this commotion took place?”

“Maybe he had her terrified.”

“Not too terrified. She bopped him with a lamp.” Decker thought a moment. “I wonder who called the incident in?”

“The PR would be on the tape. Look up the incident number and give Hollywood a call.”

Decker read further. He said, “There are gross inconsistencies here—the clean shiv, the statement of the whore, the time frame … Hey, we’ve got a bloody footprint lifted from the kitchen floor that didn’t match the shoe Abel was wearing. It was a size-nine left-foot, rubber-sole number.”

“Maybe he changed shoes.”

“Marge …”

“It’s possible.”

“Abel doesn’t have a left foot,” Decker said. “And he rarely wears a shoe on his prosthesis. Someone else was in the room.”

She didn’t answer.

Decker said, “Sixty-forty a good lawyer could get him off right now, without any further investigation.”

“Is that what you want?” Marge asked.

“No. What I want is to find the mother who did this and clear Abel’s name altogether. But that may not be possible.” Decker checked his watch, then locked the file in his desk. “I’ll go over it later. Gotta go to court now.”

His phone rang.

“Sergeant Decker? It’s Ms. Rawlings.”

“Hello, Ms. Rawlings,” Decker said. “How’s my baby Sally?”

“Fine, Sergeant. I just want to tell you that I’m taking her to the doctor’s this afternoon. Would you like to come pick up the report around four o’clock?”

“Unfortunately, I’ll be at the airport,” Decker said. “How about if I come pick it up first thing tomorrow morning?”

“That would be fine, Sergeant.”

“Thanks for phoning, Ms. Rawlings,” Decker said. “Take good care of my baby girl.”

Rina slipped her arms under Peter’s jacket and hugged him tightly. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy, so relieved. Strong arms, something to lean on. She could feel her muscles loosen, her shoulders and jaw go wonderfully slack. Peter bent down and kissed her gently on the lips. She knew they had to move, that they were blocking the path of people deplaning, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the embrace. Peter finally did it for her.

He looked at her at arms’ length. Metallic blue eyes, creamy, smooth skin, pronounced cheekbones highlighted by a windswept stroke of blush. Her hair was long and loose—a beautiful ebony wave sheathing her back. She wore a navy shirtdress gathered at the waist, bisected by a white belt.

“You look gorgeous,” Decker said.

“You do, too.”

Decker laughed. “That’s not true, but it’s nice of you to say it.” He picked up her carry-on and her wardrobe. “Did you bring a suitcase?”

Rina shook her head.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

The freeway was jammed rush-hour traffic in the afternoon heat. The unmarked’s air conditioner tried desperately to cool off the sticky upholstery, but the temperature gauge’s needle was grazing the red zone. Horns blasted, the sun reflected blindingly off chrome fenders, side mirrors, and rear windows. Decker shut off the air conditioner and cranked open the window.

“Car’s going to overheat, honey,” he explained.

Rina nodded, rolled down her window. A gust of exhaust fumes from a bus assaulted her nostrils.

“Welcome back,” Decker said with a smile.

“This would be welcome weather in New York. I left one-hundred-degree heat and ninety-percent humidity. At least it’s dry out here.”

Decker took her hand. “Your hair’s uncovered.”

“You noticed.”

“Is that a statement?”

“Sort of.”

Decker took his suit jacket off, inched the car forward. “You want to talk about it?”

“First tell me how you’ve been,” Rina said.

“Nothing changes around here. God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” She took a tissue out of her purse and dabbed his forehead. “It’s so good to see you, Peter. Sometimes I wonder why I left.”

“I’ve been wondering about that, too.”

“I think I wanted you to find God … or my concept of God … I don’t know. How are you and God doing?”

“I can’t speak for the Big Man, but I’m doing okay.”

“How’s Rav Schulman and the yeshiva?”

“Rav Schulman’s fine.”

“Did you spend Shabbos with him last week?”

“No, I changed my mind,” Decker said. “I have a hard time staying in someone else’s house. I’m better off spending Shabbos at home, davening by myself. I’m just not a group person, Rina.”

She nodded. “How’s Cindy’s vacation coming?”

Decker grinned. “She’s having a wonderful time. Jan’s having problems with it. I think she’s going to have a hard time letting go, and is going to dump on anyone who’ll let her. I pity Allen.”

“Is she giving you a hard time?”

“Nah. Not too bad considering that in four months my child-support payments will stop and Jan’ll lose her last little leash on my life. Now, when my daughter needs me for money, I can send it to her directly.”

“Is that an improvement?”

“I’m going to find out.” He kissed her hand. “You’re stalling.”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with me, Peter,” Rina said. “It seemed like a big deal over there. Now, it seems … silly. I just had to get out of New York.”

“Are you planning on going back there?”

“That all depends.”

“On what?”

“On if I have a home here.” She faced him. “Do I?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you do.”

“Then I guess I’m moving back.”

Decker grinned.

“Great,” he said.

Rina stepped out of the car and inhaled deeply. “Soil!” she said. “Land. Look at your citrus grove! The trees grow out of the ground instead of pots. It’s so beautiful.”

“Never thought of it quite like that,” Decker said.

“Everything looks so green,” Rina said.

“Actually, everything has been fried by the heat,” Decker said. “Come on inside, I’ll get you something to drink. I’ve even stocked my refrigerator for you.”

“Peter, take me for a ride.”

“We just got out of the car.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “On horseback.”

“Horseback? You?”

“Yes, me. You’ve always wanted to take me riding. Now, I’m giving you a chance.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

“You’re not too tired?” he asked.

She shook her head no.

“It must be ninety-five degrees out here,” Decker said.

“It’ll cool off soon.”

“I’m thirsty,” Decker said. “Can I get a beer first?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Rina brought his mouth onto hers. She felt his hot breath, smelled his sweat, rubbed her fingers into his damp hair. He pulled her closer, undid the top button of her dress, and slipped his hand down the front. Her skin was warm and moist.

“Sure you want to go riding now?” he said.

She didn’t answer, kissed him again. Sweet, long kisses.

“It stays light out for a long time,” Decker said. He unsnapped the next button, she unknotted his tie. She kissed him again.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Decker suggested.

Rina didn’t move. She stroked his chin, traced his jawline with her fingertip.

“It’s cool inside,” Decker said.

Rina laced her arms around his waist.

“You know, I’m trying to be subtle here,” Decker said.

“I can see that,” Rina said. “You’re doing a fine job.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t working,” Decker said. “Well, since Mr. Sensitivity ain’t making any hay, I’m reverting back to caveman style.” He picked her up, unlocked the kitchen door, and headed for the bedroom.

The early evening temperature settled in the mid-80’s, the sky was polished silver lined with rust and lavender. The sun was a fiery disk of orange, sinking quickly behind mammary swells of mountain. Decker pulled a brown stallion named Bear to the Left and followed the foothills, trampling through gray-green shrubbery, hay-colored grass and scrub brush. Wild flowers carpeted the rolling land—orange California poppies, white and blue alyssum, tiny white spring daisies.

Decker knew the trail by heart, but had taken a flashlight for Rina’s benefit. She sat, nestled in his arms, her dress flowing down the sides of the saddle, eyes half-shut, lips parted. She’d been more wonderful than he remembered—soft and sensual—but distant, troubled. Decker knew that she’d never let go completely until after they were married. Rina could never shake her religious belief that sex outside of marriage was wrong. Still, she had come to him willingly …

They rode for a half hour without speaking, rode until the crickets began their foot-rubbing, and low-pitched hoots from woodland animals echoed in the air. A sliver of bleached-white moon peeked over the hilltop.

“This is beautiful,” Rina said.

“I should take more time off,” Decker said. “You’re good for me. You slow me down. If you weren’t here, I’d be working.”

“I can’t believe I was battling the subway yesterday,” Rina said.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s bothering you?” Decker asked.

“Don’t spoil the moment.”

“Stop stalling,” Decker said.

Rina sighed. “It’s my brother-in-law.”

“Which one?”

“Pessy. Esther’s husband. The one who owns the fur factory.”

“The one you do the books for,” Decker said.

“Yes.”

“He came on to you,” Decker said.

Rina sat up in the saddle. “How’d you know?”

“And you’re shocked. Especially because he’s frum.”

She slumped back against him. “Obviously, you’re not surprised.”

“What’d he do to you?”

“Oh God …”

“What’d he do?”

“He backed me up into a corner a couple of weeks ago.”

“And …”

“He was inappropriate,” Rina groaned.

“How? Details.”

“Stop acting like a detective.”

Decker laughed. “Did he kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“What’d you do?”

“I was so shocked, I didn’t do anything.”

“Nice move, Lazarus. Did he feel you up?”

“Peter, could you cool the blow-by-blow?”

Decker grew serious. “Did he get rough with you?”

“No,” Rina said. “No, he didn’t. As soon as I recovered from my shock, I got out of there, and he didn’t try to stop me. Oh, Peter, how could he have done that? Betrayed his wife as well as me. What gets into people like him?”

“He’s horny with low impulse control.”

“He wears a gartel for God’s sake!”

“What’s a gartel?”

“It’s a sash that Hasidim wear to separate the clean from the unclean parts of their body. This is the man who always leads Kol Nidre on Yom Kippur, can you believe such hypocrisy?”

“Obviously, he has a lot to repent for,” Decker said. “Is he still harassing you sexually?”

Rina sighed. “Well, he hasn’t backed me into any more corners, but he’s done other things.”

“Like what?”

“Peter, he frequents massage parlors.”

“How do you know that?”

“He gives me the receipts for the books and tells me to take them off as business expenses.”

Decker burst into laughter.

Rina said, “What’s so funny?”

“Forgive me, but only a Jew would be so brazen,” Decker said.

“That is such an anti-Semitic thing to say!” Rina exclaimed. “Whose side are you on?”

Decker said, “No goy on earth would have the hutzpah to try something like that.”

“Chutzpah,” Rina said, correcting his pronunciation. “Ch, ch. The sound is guttural. At least say the word right. And I don’t believe that goyim are any less chutzpahdic than Jews.”

“Maybe we Gentiles just don’t think as creatively.”

“We?” Rina said. “You’re Jewish, remember?”

Decker hugged her. “Yes, I remember.”

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