False Prophet (30 page)

Lilah sipped, her eyes suddenly hardening. “So, is it your first — no, it can’t be if you asked Peter to check on the boys. How many kids do you have anyway?” Again she squinted. “You’re much younger than he is. How
old
are you?”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Rina said.

She walked into the bedroom as Peter was walking out.

“I’m really sorry about this,” he whispered.

“Boys are okay?”

“Yeah, they’re waiting for you to kiss them good night. Rina, I’m
sorry
—”

“Don’t worry about it, Peter. She’s calmer now. Claims she needs to talk to you. Let her get it off her chest, then get her
out
of here.” She paused. “Don’t be too harsh. She’s gone through a lot.”

Decker thought about what Lilah had gone through. Could be her extreme rage was a delayed reaction from the rape. She was angry at men and taking it out on him. If that was the case, she had the worst case of transference
he’d
ever seen. But Lilah didn’t seem to act in moderation. Or it could be the woman was bonkers before and the rape drove her over the edge. Whatever the reason, no way was he going to let this broad take it out on Rina.

“You’re wonderful, Rina. The
best
!”

She shook her head knowingly. “This is true.”

“I’ve called Marge,” Decker said. “I’ve also called Lilah’s brother. He’s coming down and picking her up.” He stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “Kiss the boys and go back to sleep.”

“Go back to
sleep
?” Rina laughed.

“Well, rest, okay?”

Rina smiled, noticing that Peter had dressed. She held him by the arms and looked over his attire — a pair of loose-fitting jeans, a work shirt, and sneakers. Comfortable but not the least bit provocative. She approved.

Storming through the
door, Frederick Brecht was dressed in a raw-silk caftan, stone-washed black jeans, and raw-silk jacket. He wore Nike high-tops, the cuffs of his pants tucked under the oversized tongues of his shoes. His blue eyes were watery and red, his scalp and the skin around his beard pink and mottled. He’d slapped on some grassy-smelling cologne. Too much because he was in a hurry, Decker thought. Brecht’s face was knotted with anger as he faced his sister. “Are you
crazy
?”

Lilah looked at Decker. “This was precisely the reason why I can’t recup—”

“Are you out of your
mind
, Lilah? Waking him up at three in the morning?” Brecht was enraged. “For God’s sake, why didn’t you call
me
!?”

“Freddy is so jealous,” Lilah said.

“Dear God, it has nothing to do with jealousy! It has to do with common sense—”

“For your information, I tried calling you, Freddy. You weren’t home.”

“I can be reached!” Brecht was screaming now. He pointed to Decker. “
He
reached me!”

Marge wiped a speck of dirt off her slacks. “Look, I don’t have kids, I’m not used to three o’clock feedings. Can we get this show on the road?”

“Why did you call
her
down?” Lilah suddenly demanded of Decker.

“You have something to report, Miss Brecht, ask for Detective Dunn. She’s your new primary detective.”

“
What!
You just can’t
drop
me!”

“No one dropped you,” Marge said evenly.

“He can’t leave me in the lurch!”

“Detective Dunn is one of the most specialized people we have on the force—”

“I can’t believe you’re deserting me!”

“No one is deserting anyone,” Marge said. “If you need my services, I’ll be right there—”

“I don’t want you, I want him!” Lilah pointed to Decker. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Detective. I’m just used to Peter.”

“Peter?” Brecht said. “You’re on first-name basis with the police?”

“Frederick, stop acting so infantile.”

“You’re acting infantile interrupting this poor man’s sleep.” Brecht turned to Decker. “I’m sorry about this—”

“Stop apologizing for me as if I were your child!”

“Sometimes you act like a child!”

“If you’d stop treating me like a child—”

“Miss Brecht,” Decker said, “is there something specific you wanted to talk to me about?”

Marge smiled at Pete’s style. Just lay it on the line.

Lilah bit her knuckle. “It’s about my brother.”

“Me?” Brecht gasped.

“No, King.”

“Kingston?”
Brecht turned bright red. “What do you want with
Kingston
?”

“Freddy, you are so tiresome!”

“What does
that
jerk want?” Brecht whined. “I know he’s up to something with Mother—”

“What about King, Miss Brecht?” Marge interrupted.

“I’m worried about him.” Lilah bit her knuckle again. “I was supposed to meet him last night for dinner—”

“You were meeting that pompous
slimeball
for
dinner
?” Brecht held up his hands and shook them as he talked. “How could you even think about going
anywhere
after what happened to you? You need at least a few days of bed rest!”

“It was spontaneous, Freddy. Mother said he wanted to talk to me… after he heard about my… assault.”

“And you agreed to talk to him?”

“I was shocked, of course, I didn’t know…” Tears formed in her eyes. “Yes, I agreed. And he was very nice over the phone. Comforting… soothing. Just like when I was little. He seemed to care about me again—”

“Kingston doesn’t care about anyone but himself!”

“Just because you two don’t get along—”

“How’d he hear about your assault anyway?” Brecht asked.

“I told him,” Marge said. “After Mike Ness took you upstairs to calm you down from your fight with Dr. Merritt.”

“So how’d he find out about your
horse
?” Brecht asked.

Lilah said, “He didn’t even
know
about that, Freddy. He just wanted to visit me. Isn’t that so
wonderful
?”

Brecht muttered, “That ass has something on his mind—”

“Freddy, you are impossible. He
loves
me—”

“He wants something from you—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Marge said, “Can we stay on a topic, people? Lilah, what about King and dinner?”

Lilah turned to her, then began to pace. “I agreed to meet him last night for dinner… first time in years—”

“I don’t believe this!” Brecht interrupted. “How could you do that!”

“Freddy, please try and understand,” Lilah said. “I know you hate him—”

“You’re the one who
froths
at the mouth at the mention of his name!”

“People, please!” Marge said. “I’m tired and grumpy. Get on with it.”

“I’m trying to, Detective,” Lilah snorted. “I agreed to meet Kingston
if
I felt up to it. And I
did
. I called his service and left a message that dinner was on, providing we’d meet at Monique’s because it was very close to the ranch. I told his service I’d be there at eight. Then I called up the spa and left a message for Mother. I wanted to borrow her limo and driver. I was still very weak — too shaky to drive my own car.”

She looked to Decker for sympathy. He nodded, remembering the genuine terror scored into her face as the horse charged toward the mountain.

“Go on,” Marge said.

“I never heard from him.” Lilah dropped her hand to her side. “So I called his residence. Nothing. His service hasn’t been able to get hold of him, either. I
know
something has happened to him. Just as sure as I knew something was going to happen to me yesterday morning! The electricity, the vibes…”

Brecht said, “Why would you want to
talk
to him?”

“Freddy, for God’s sake,
listen
to what I’m saying. He’s
your
brother, too. Something has
happened
to him!”

“You don’t know that!” Brecht said.

“Oh, God!” she screamed. “Just shut up!”

At that moment, Decker caught a glimpse of her mother in her face. “You called his house and his service. What about his office?”

“That, too. I’ve called all his private lines. He doesn’t answer! Peter, I’m scared!”

She started to come to Decker, but he backed away. Marge stood and placed her hand on Lilah’s shoulder. “Where does Dr. Merritt live, Miss Brecht?”

“Newport.”

“House or apartment?”

“A condominium actually.”

Marge said, “Is it an exclusive building?”

“Detective, it’s very
chercher
!”

Marge looked at Decker. He shrugged. She said, “So it has maintenance, housekeeping, a doorman, maybe even a front desk.”

“Of course!”

Of course, Marge thought icily. To Decker, she said, “Front desk would have a key to the place. I’ll call.”

Lilah gave Marge the number and they waited. Seventeen minutes later, Marge hung up the phone. “He’s not there. But they told me the quarters looked fine, nothing’s out of place.”

“How would
they
know?” Lilah said.

Marge ignored the question and said, “Okay, that leaves his office. I’m not about to go out to Newport—”

“Palos Verdes,” Lilah corrected.

“Whatever.” Marge draped her parka over her shoulders. “I’m not going out on a wild-goose chase—”

“It is
not
a wild-goose chase, I can assure you! The electrical charges are very strong.”

“Then maybe
you
should drive out to Palos Verdes,” Marge suggested.

“In my current state of mind?” Lilah snarled. “How could you possibly think—”

“Palos Verdes will keep until the morning,” Decker stated. “In the meantime, go home and sleep, Miss Brecht.”

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Then rest,” Decker said.

“Take another ginseng and gingerroot bath,” Marge said.

“At last!” Brecht piped up. “Someone with good advice!”

Lilah said, “Peter—”

“Sergeant Decker,” Marge corrected. “What is it, Miss Brecht?”

“My brother…” She let out a deep breath. “He has a little satellite office in Burbank.”

“His abortion mill,” Freddy Brecht clarified. “Hourly rates—”

“He’s doing a service—”

“The mad butcher of Burbank—”

“No one has ever died—”

“No one
you’ve
heard about!”

“Hey!” Decker shouted. “Don’t you two ever quit? Enough! So Dr. Merritt has the office in Burbank. Why should he be there?”

“He’s not answering the phone,” Lilah said, “but I know he had a few morning appointments there yesterday — he told me that. I’m sure that’s one of the reasons he was coming to meet me. Burbank isn’t too far from the ranch. I guess he figured as long as he was in the area…” She sighed. “Can’t you just take a look for me?”

“What good would it do if I couldn’t get in?” Marge said.

“I don’t know…” Lilah looked down at her lap. “I’m just worried. I know something’s wrong. I just know it!”

Marge checked her watch and looked at Decker. “What do you figure? Forty-five minutes tops if nothing’s there?”

“That sounds about right.”

Lilah peeked sheepishly at Decker. “Will you look for Kingston?”

“I’ll do the honors,” Marge said. She cocked a thumb toward the front door. “Now if you two could kindly make an exit?”

Brecht took Lilah’s elbow and guided her to the door. Before he left, he turned and said, “Again, I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

“There you go again. Apologizing for me! I’m not sorry!”

“Lilah—”

“Don’t
Lilah
me!”

Brecht steered her outside and shut the door. Decker could hear them arguing until one of the cars finally roared off. He let out a slow stream of breath. “You’re sure you want to do this, Marge?”

“S’right.”

“Want me to go with you?”

“Nah. A guy not answering his phone calls doesn’t scream foul play. Why shouldn’t at least one of us get some sleep?”

“You’re making me feel guilty, Marge.”

“You better believe it, Pete.” Marge pushed limp blond wisps out of her eyes and smiled. “I left an empty California King. You might as well make the most out of the situation.”

Decker smiled back. “Not so bad.”

“Not so bad.”

Rina emerged from the bedroom. “Is it safe?”

Marge laughed. “You can come out now, Mrs. Decker. Poor Rina. What did you ever do to deserve this?”

“What did
I
ever do to deserve this?” Decker said.

Marge pointed a finger at him. “Hollander warned you. He offered to take the case.”

Decker glanced upward, studying the ceiling. “Is that coffee I smell?”

“I’ll get you a cup, Peter,” Rina said. “Marge?”

“I’ll get the coffee, Rina,” Marge said. “You deal with Detective Sergeant Innocent Bystander here.” She walked into the kitchen.

“I didn’t say I was an innocent bystander,” Decker called after her. But she was already out of sight. To Rina he said, “You actually made her coffee?”

“It gave me something to do with my hands while I dodged her questions.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You don’t choose your cases.”

“Truth be told, Marge is right. Hollander did warn me off. But you know me. I get stubborn.”

“It’s called perseverance.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “It’s what makes you a good detective.”

Decker smiled. “You can say the right things when you want to.”

“Meaning I don’t always want to?”

“No, I just meant—”

“Forget it, Peter.” Rina tousled his hair.

Marge returned, carrying a mug stenciled with dinosaurs. “I’m off.”

Rina looked at Peter. “You’re not going?”

Marge scowled. “Who needs ’im? Good night, folks. I’ll call if something’s amiss.” She sipped coffee and looked at the cup. “I’ll give this back to you in the morning.”

“Keep it,” Decker said.

“I can’t be bought off with stegosauri, Pete.”

“How ’bout if I throw in a year’s supply of coffee, sugar,
and
whitener in individual packets?”

“The temptation is overwhelming.” Marge wiggled her fingers and left.

“You owe her,” Rina said.

“Big.” Decker raised his brow. “You want to salvage the night?” He slipped his arms around Rina’s burgeoning waistline and kissed the nape of her neck. “I’ll even carry you across the threshold.”