Hangman. Faye Kellerman

you sure you want to go through with this? Meeting him here in L.A.?”

      “I put it off about as long as I could,” Terry said. “It really doesn’t make sense to hide. If Chris wants to find me, he will. And it’s not me that I’m worried about. It’s Gabe. If he gets pissed off enough, he may take it out on him. I need to get him to adulthood, Lieutenant, before I make any decisions about myself.”

      “How old is Gabe?”

      “Chronologically, he’s about four months from fifteen. Psychologically, he’s an old man.”

      Decker nodded. They were sitting in an elegantly furnished hotel suite in Bel Air, California. The color scheme was a soothing tone-on-tone beige. There was a stocked wet bar off the entry and a marble countertop for mixing drinks. Terry had curled up on the divan opposite a stone fireplace. He was sitting on her left in a wing chair with a view of the private patio lushly planted with ferns, palms, and flowers—an oasis for the wounded soul. “What makes you think that you’ll last until Gabe turns eighteen?”

      Terry gave the question some thought. “You know how cool and calculating my husband is. This was the first time that he ever laid a hand on me.”

      “So what happened?”

      “A misunderstanding.” She looked at the ceiling, avoiding Decker’s eyes. “He found some medical papers and thought I had an abortion. After I finally got him to stop hitting me and listen, he realized that he had misread the name. The abortion had been for my half sister.”

      “He confused the name Melissa with Teresa.”

      “We have the same middle name. I’m Teresa Anne. She’s Melissa Anne. It’s stupid but my father is stupid. I still use McLaughlin, like my half sister, because it’s on all my diplomas and licenses. He misread the names and he snapped. Not that he cares about children, but the thought of my destroying his progeny made him unglued. I’m just thankful there wasn’t a gun within reach.” She shrugged.

      Decker said, “Why did you marry him, Terry?”

      “He wanted it official. I could hardly tell him no since he was supporting us. I could have never finished medical school without his money.” She paused. “Mostly he leaves Gabe and me alone. He buries himself in work or booze or drugs or other women. Gabe and I are adept at maneuvering around him. Our interactions are neutral and sometimes pleasant. He’s generous and knows how to be charming when he wants something. I give him what he wants and all is well.”

      “Except when it isn’t.” Decker held up the photographs. “What exactly do you want me to do, Doctor?”

      “I’ve agreed to see him, Lieutenant, not to go back to him. At least, not right away. I don’t know how he’ll take the news. Since I can’t escape him, I want him to agree to a temporary separation. Not a marriage separation—that wouldn’t settle well—just for him to agree to give me a little more time to be by myself.”

      “How much more time?”

      “Thirty years, maybe.” Terry smiled. “Actually, I’d like to move back to L.A. until Gabe finishes high school. I found a house to rent in Beverly Hills. I not only have to get Chris to agree to the separation, but I want him to pay for everything.”

      “How are you going to do that?”

      “Watch me.” She smiled. “He’s trained me, but I’ve also trained him.”

      “And yet you feel the need for protection.”

      “You deal with a feral animal, anything can happen. It’s good to take precautions.”

      “There are a lot of younger, stronger men than me, guys that would probably do a better job at guarding you.”

      “Oh please! Chris could take any of them down. He’s more…careful around you. He respects you.”

      “He shot me.”

      “If he wanted to kill you, he would have.”

      “I know that,” Decker said. “He wanted to prove who was boss.” He blew out air. “More important, Chris likes shooting people. In plugging me, he got a two-for-one.”

      Terry looked down. “He’s boasted that you’ve asked him for favors. Is that true?”

      Decker grinned. “I ask him for information now and then. I’ll use any sources I can to help me get a solve.” He regarded her face—her milky complexion, hazel-gold eyes, and long chestnut-colored hair. There were a few strands of gray peeking through, the only sign that her life had been a pressure cooker. She was wearing a loose, sleeveless maxidress—something silky with geometric patterns in orange, green, and yellow. Her bare feet stuck out of the hemline. “When’s he due in town?”

      “I told him to come by the hotel on Sunday at noon. I figured that would be a good time for you.”

      “Where will your son be when all this goes down?”

      “He’s at UCLA in one of the practice rooms. Gabe has a cell. If he needs me, he’ll call. He’s very independent. He’s had to be.” Her eyes were faraway. “He’s so good…the polar opposite of his father. Given his upbringing, he should have been in rehab at least a couple of times by now. Instead he’s hypermature. It worries me. There’s so much inside of him that’s been left unsaid. He really does deserve better.” She brought her hands to her mouth and blinked back tears. “Thanks so much for helping me out.”

      “Make sure I do something before you thank me.” Decker checked his watch. He was due home a half hour ago. “Okay, Terry, I’ll come on Sunday. But you’ve got to do it my way. I’ve got to think of a plan, how I want this meeting to take place. First and foremost, you have to wait in the bedroom until I’ve cleared him. Then you can come out.”

      “That’s fine.”

      “Also, you have to tell Gabe not to come home until you’ve given him an all-clear signal okay. I don’t want him popping in the middle of a sticky situation.”

      “Sounds reasonable.”

      The room was silent for a few moments. Then Terry stood up. “Thanks so much, Lieutenant. I hope the payment is okay?”

      “It’s more than okay. It’s very generous.”

      “One thing about Chris—he’s very expansive. If I offered you anything less, he’d be insulted.”

      DECKER SAID, “LOOK, if you don’t want me to do it, I won’t.”

      “Of course I don’t want you to do it,” Rina answered. “He shot you, for God’s sake!”

      “So I’ll call her up and say no.”

      “A little late for that, don’t you think.” Rina got up from the dining-room table and began to clear the brunch dishes—two plates and two glasses. Hannah rarely ate with them anymore. She’d be starting seminary in Israel in the fall. With three months left of high school, she was as good as gone.

      Decker followed his wife into the kitchen. “Tell me what you want?” When Rina turned on the faucet, he said, “I’ll wash.”

      “No, I’ll wash.”

      “Better yet, why don’t you use the dishwasher?”

      “For two plates?”

      Counting all the glasses, utensils, and pots and pans, it was a lot more than that, but he didn’t argue. “I should have consulted you before I agreed. I’m sorry.”

      “I’m not looking for apologies. I’m concerned for your safety. He’s a hit man, Peter.”

      “He’s not going to kill me.”

      “Don’t you always tell me that domestic are the most dangerous situations because emotions get hot?”

      “They