Hangman. Faye Kellerman

said, “And we know, Sela, that you want to do everything possible to find Adrianna’s killer.”

      Sela made a point of massaging her temple. Then she picked up her cell and punched in some numbers. “Hey, where are you?…No, I can’t come over, I have to visit Kathy Blanc. Have you called her yet?…Yeah, I promised. I’m sure she’ll want to see you, too…No, I’m not telling you anything, I’m just suggesting…No, it doesn’t have to be now, just…Crys, how wasted are you?…No, I’m not insulting you, but…I know you feel…oh dear…stop crying, okay…I’m sorry, okay…I feel like shit, too, but I can’t come down and drink. I have work tomor—I’ll call…okay…okay…okay…okay, I will. Bye.” Sela turned to the detectives. “Now I’ve pissed her off. Happy?”

      “Where is she?” Marge said.

      “At the Port Hole in Marina Del Rey.”

      “Thank you very much, Ms. Graydon.”

      “It’s Sela and I feel like a fink.” She stood up and picked up her purse. “If she asked you how you found her, don’t mention my name.”

      THE MINUTE HANNAH pulled into the driveway, Gabe’s stomach dropped. Although the school was not his school, it was a familiar environment—kids, teachers, classrooms, lockers. At her house, he was an alien. He didn’t want to have to make conversation with her mom. She seemed nice enough, but like most moms, she was a normal mom. His mom was different: part mom, part peer, part protector, part co-conspirator. The two of them were always figuring out ways how to avoid pissing off his dad. Most of the time, they were successful. Sometimes they weren’t, and a pissed-off Chris Donatti was a dangerous thing. Several times, when Chris was drunk or stoned, he’d taken potshots at Gabe for fun. His dad would always say the same thing.

       Stop looking so scared. If I had wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.

      He loved his mom—really he did—but she had made some poor life choices. He wasn’t too scornful, though. He wouldn’t have existed had she been wiser. There was even a part of him that loved his dad. His parents were his parents. And now they were both gone and he was once again in limbo. In a perverse way, this day had been one of the easiest that he could remember, not having to deal with either of them.

      Hannah shut the motor. “You okay?”

      “Yeah.” He took off his glasses, cleaned them on his T-shirt, and perched them back on his nose. “Sure.”

      “Uh, I think my sister and brother-in-law are here. I mean I know that they’re here. That’s their car.”

      “Okay.”

      “Just wanted to let you know. My mom is a great cook. It’s probably going to be a shebang with Cindy and Koby staying for dinner. Don’t feel obligated to eat everything.”

      “I think I forgot to eat today. I’m kinda hungry. How old’s your sister?”

      “Midthirties. She’s from my father’s first marriage. She’s a cop. Koby’s a nurse. He’s a great guy. I think my sister may be pregnant. Maybe that’s why she’s here. I hope this isn’t overwhelming. ”

      “It’s fine.” Gabe pulled the door handle on her ancient Volvo.

      The two of them walked to the door and went inside the house. The sisters looked alike—both of them tall with long, wild red hair, a long face, and a strong but not unfeminine chin. Both had almond-shaped eyes. Cindy’s were brown, Hannah’s were blue. Cindy was taller by a couple of inches—around five nine—but Hannah probably still had growing to do. The dude was black. That surprised him, although he didn’t know why. Koby was taller than him but shorter than his dad—around six two.

      Hannah said, “Cindy, Koby…Gabe.”

      Koby stuck out his hand and Gabe shook it.

      “Dad should be home any minute,” Cindy told Hannah.

      “A family meal?” Hannah looked at her sister’s stomach and detected roundness. She smiled inwardly. “What’s the occasion?”

      “The occasion is I haven’t seen Dad in two weeks.” Cindy smiled at Gabe. “I hope you’re hungry. Rina cooked enough for an army.”

      “She cooks like an angel,” Koby said.

      “Great.” Gabe gave him a forced half smile. “I think I’ll wash up.”

      After he left, Hannah let out a sigh. “Oh man.”

      Koby said, “Has it been hard for you?”

      “No, he’s a nice kid. It must be strange for him. I get the feeling his life is strange.”

      “Nice of your mom to let him stay here,” Koby said. “I’ll see if she needs help.”

      “I’ll join you in a minute.” After he left for the kitchen, Cindy said, “I think Dad located the kid’s father, but don’t say anything, all right.”

      “Okay. That’s good news.”

      “I hope it’s good news. I think his dad’s a whack job.”

      “In what way?”

      “I’m not sure. Did he talk to you about his dad?”

      “He didn’t say much…which is what I would do if I were him.”

      They both heard the car pull up. Decker unlocked the door and broke into a smile when he saw his girls. “How are my two favorite daughters?” He kissed both of them on the cheek. “To what do I owe this honor?”

      “You sounded grumpy over the phone,” Cindy said. “Being totally narcissistic, I figured my presence would cheer you up.”

      “It does.” He faced Hannah. “How was your day?”

      “Uneventful.”

      “How’d it go with Gabe?”

      “Fine. He’s in his temporary room. Any luck with his parents?”

      “Nothing with his mother, but his father called me.”

      “That’s good,” Hannah said. “Any reason why he called you and not Gabe?”

      “No idea. I’ll talk to Gabe in a minute. Where’s Koby?”

      “In the kitchen with Eema.”

      Decker headed for the kitchen and came in just as Koby was lifting an oversize iron-clad casserole from the oven. “Something smells incredibly good.”

      “Good and heavy,” Koby said.

      “Chicken-and-sausage paella.” Rina kissed her husband’s lips. She was wearing an apron festooned with butterflies and her black hair was pulled into a ponytail. “I love one-dish meals.”

      “There is also a salad.” Koby plopped the hot casserole onto the stovetop.

      “Two-dish meals, then.”

      “And all the appetizers. And dessert.” Koby grinned. “Don’t worry, Rina. I will eat it all. I always do.”

      “How do you eat so much and stay so thin?” Decker asked.

      “I don’t know, Peter. I would say that most Ethiopian men are thin, but most of us in Africa are also on a subsistence diet. I think it’s genetics and luck.” He patted his stomach and picked up a stack of dishes. “I’ll set the table.”

      “I can do that,” Decker said.

      “You stay with Rina and play sous-chef. My wife and sister-in-law will help. They will probably relieve me of my table setting duties anyway, which is fine with me. I haven’t read the paper today.”

      “It’s on the dining-room table,” Rina told him.

      After Koby