Stone Kiss (32 page)

“Amen!”

Decker kissed his daughter, then his wife. “I love my girls. Take care.”

Rina took Hannah’s hand in her right, the luggage in her left, and fast-walked through the glass doors. After standing in
a line for check-in, she made it through security with time to spare.

The flight had been delayed.

But in this case, the respite was welcome. She took a hard bench seat in the terminal. Hannah unleashed her backpack from
her shoulders, took out a book, and began to read.

“Do you want something to eat?” Rina asked her.

“No, Eema, I’m fine.”

Rina sat back and closed her eyes. Then they sprang open, and she bolted upright.

“Are you okay?” Hannah asked her.

“Uh…”
Think of something quick.
“I forgot something. Not important. I’ll get it at Grandma’s.”

Hannah shrugged and went back to her book. Rina chided herself. How could she possibly relax? This afternoon, someone had
fired bullets in her direction—although the shots were clearly meant for Donatti… most likely meant for Donatti. Or…

A warning for Peter?

The problem was that she just didn’t know!

If she wanted resolution, she was going to have to out-Peter Peter in the legwork department, because there was only one way
to find out.

“I have to make a private call, Hannaleh.”

The little girl looked up.

“I’m going to move a couple of seats away.”

“I won’t listen, Eema.”

“I know, sweetheart. But it’s better if you don’t hear.” Rina took an empty seat across from her, then fished the cell phone
from her purse. Randy answered right away.

“Hey, sis. You’re delayed. Big surprise, huh.”

“An hour so far. Is this going to be stressful on Mom? We’re not getting in until nearly one.”

“No, because I’m going to pick you up. I already sent Mom and Dad to bed.”

Silence.

Randy said, “What is it, Rina? Is he all right?”

“Someone punched his face, Randy.”

More silence.

“He insists on staying. I’m worried.”

“Want me to come to New York?”

“It may come to that. We’ll talk when I get there.”

“Don’t worry, Rina. He’s been around long enough to know his limits. He’s not a reckless man.”

“I hope you’re right.” She summoned up her courage. “Randy, I’m very tired. Since the flight is delayed for who knows how
long, I was thinking that maybe…could you maybe just pick us up in the morning?”

Silence.

“Would that be possible?”

“Anything’s possible.”

“I figured I’ll go back to Brooklyn—”

“Rina, you’re bluffin’ me. What are you up to?”

“Randy, I need to talk to someone—”

“Who?”

She didn’t answer him. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. I’ll catch an early-morning flight. Get into Orlando
around nine. Will that work?”

“Yeah, it’ll work. But I don’t like it.”

“Then you won’t like the next part, either. I don’t want Peter to know about it. I’ll call him tonight. But if he calls tomorrow
to check up on things, or to talk to Hannah, can you cover for me?”

No response over the line.

“Randy—”

“I heard you. Rina, letting Pete poke around is one thing. You’re a completely different story. What in heaven’s name are
you thinking?”

“Please, Randy! It’s just until tomorrow morning.” A pause.
“Please?”

“You two deserve each other.” Displeasure in his voice. “What are you going to do with Hannah?”

“I’ll take her back to Brooklyn. That’s a given—”

“You and me need to have a good, long talk when you get in tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell you everything I know. Start to finish, Randy, I promise.”

“I love that guy. He’s the only brother I got. And I’m rather fond of you.”

“I won’t do anything stupid.”

“I wish I believed that.” A pause. “Okay.” More resolute this time. “Okay, I’ll cover for you. I have to talk to Pete anyway.
He asked for some information, and I may have something for him tomorrow morning.”

“He called you?”

“A couple of days ago, yeah.”

“What did he ask you about?”

“That’s not for me to say. Rina, I swear to God, you better know what you’re doing, because I’m Hannah’s legal guardian. If
something happens to both of you, do you want me raising your daughter?”

Randy was on wife number four. He was making a very strong point.

“I think you’re a fine man.”

“That may be, sis, but we have differing styles. I’m bringing it down to a level you can understand.”

“I hear you. Thank you very much.”

“I’ll feel a lot better when you thank me in person.”

By the time she got back to Manhattan, it was almost midnight. To her surprise, she made it uptown in twenty minutes, amazed
at how fast she could cross the city without traffic as an impediment. Still, she didn’t get out right away, sitting in Sora
Lazarus’s old Honda, staring at the building. She was on a tight schedule. It was do or die. Finally, she pulled the door
handle and made the plunge, locking the car with the remote. A quick glance around, then she ran over to the building’s lobby.

No listing for Donatti.

Either he was unlisted or she had the wrong numbers. By now, it was way too late to start pushing random buzzers, but having
come this far, she wasn’t quite ready to admit defeat. Noting that the fifth and sixth floors were taken up by one tenant,
MMO, she figured that maybe that was her best bet. But before she could depress the corresponding white button, the door barked
out an irritating drone.

She went in, stopping in front of the elevator.

Where to?

No idea.

He’d come get her.

And he did—sunken eyes, pale lips, and a complexion that was florid and pallid at the same time. He wore black sweatpants
and a loose white T-shirt. His feet were bare. He crooked a finger and she followed. The silent ride up was incredibly slow.
As they got out, he put his finger to his lips, then took her through an anteroom with a metal detector. When Rina set it
off, he shushed her silently and waved her forward,
through a door and into a spacious loft filled with windows that framed city lights. A pile of broken glass and tangled metal
took up most of the center area. To the right was a zone devoted to photography equipment; three doors took up the left-hand
wall. He opened one of them, then stepped aside, indicating that she should go in first.

She did.

The room was spacious enough, but claustrophobic simply because it lacked the tall windows of the studio. No windows
period
. He bolted the door shut, then turned on a series of switches that illuminated a panel in Christmas-tree colors, and started
the whirling of an overhead fan. Monitors from video cameras showed different positions around the building. The man wasn’t
taking chances.

He sat down, and so did she. She was much more nervous than she thought she would be. She allowed herself a minute of thinking
time, then spoke.

“I just have one question.”

Donatti waited.

“Do you know who hurt Peter?”

He took in her clear aqua eyes and said nothing.

“Was it you?”

Still, no response.

“Did you punch my husband?” Rina demanded to know.

He smiled, but it was a weak one. “Mea culpa.”

Rina slumped back in her chair and placed her hands over her mouth. Tears dropped down from her eyes. “Thank you, God!” She
exhaled exhilaration. “I thought someone was trying to
kill
him.”

“Maybe someone is.” His voice was a whisper. “Maybe that someone is me.”

“Nonsense!” Rina dismissed him. “Why would you let him go? Why would you have let
me
go?”

“I like playing head games.” His eyes locked onto her face.

Abruptly, she felt herself go hot. She said, “I woke you up.”

“No, I was awake.”

For the first time, she realized how compromised he was. His face was sopping wet. He dabbed his brow with a damp towel that
had been on his desk. She felt ashamed of herself.

“You’re ill. How can I help you?”

“Interesting question.” A look. “You can start by taking off my shirt.”

She got up, and so did he, towering over her. That was okay. She was used to that. With steady hands, she lifted the cotton
tee over his gun, over his bandaged ribs, then over his head. Her nose was hit with a strong stench—sweat, decay, and infection—made
even more intense because the room wasn’t well ventilated. The gauze was saturated and had turned rusty brown. “Let me take
a look—”

“Leave me alone.” He sat back down. “I haven’t had a mother in over a decade and I don’t want one now. You have to get out
of this city, Mrs. Decker. The lieutenant would be wise to leave, but he probably won’t because he’s a stubborn man. Besides,
he can take care of himself.”

“Was… you know… was it for you or for me?”

“This?” He pointed to his ribs.

Rina nodded. “Yes, that.”

“I have some ideas. Don’t worry. I’ll find out. I
have
to find out. Something like this can ruin a hard-earned reputation like that!” He snapped his fingers. “Whoever it is… whoever
he was after… he’s not too good at what he does. Because we’re both still alive.”

Rina shuddered. “Why would he be after me?”

“I’m not saying he is. But if he is, you can probably answer that question better than I can.”

“I didn’t think Peter was even close.”

“Then maybe it’s time to stop and take stock.” He closed his eyes and tried to breathe away the pain. “Whoever this was meant
for is irrelevant. Outcome is outcome. You owe me.”

“You saw the person?”

“I saw enough glint of metal to know what was coming. I’m attuned to that kind of thing… very… detail oriented.”

Again she heard him gasping for air. “Let me see the wound.”

“It’s nothing. Strictly superficial. It nicked a few ribs. Listen, Mrs. Decker, if you get out now, no one has to know. Especially
your husband.”

“I plan to do just that. Originally I was supposed to go out tonight.
As a matter of fact, the lieutenant thinks we’ve gone out tonight.” She took out her cell phone. “Can I make a call?”

Donatti pushed his phone over the desktop. “Your cell won’t register in here.”

Reluctantly, she picked up the phone and called Peter, pretending that they had landed and everything was fine. He kept asking
her if she was okay. He could hear the anxiety in her voice. Somehow she managed to convince him that Hannah was too cranky
to talk to him, and Randy had to concentrate on his driving. He believed her. Why should he not believe her? She knew she
should feel guilty, but she didn’t. The subterfuge was worth everything. That his swollen face had come from Donatti’s fist
was a big relief. A known quantity—albeit evil—was still better than the unknown.

When she hung up, Donatti was looking at her, an amused smile on his face. “Very sneaky, Mrs. Decker. And not very religious,
if you ask me.”

“On the contrary, it’s called keeping the peace on the home front.
Shalom bayit
.” She clasped her hands together. “How did you know I was in danger?”

Donatti slumped back in the chair. “I could give you a line. Tell you lies and you’d believe every one of them. About how
I was being chivalrous and trying to protect you. I
didn’t
know you were in danger until I saw the piece. The truth is, I was stalking you, Mrs. Decker. I get a real sexual buzz by
spying on women who are unavailable to me. After Terry broke with me—before we reestablished contact—I used to spy on her
all the time. I still do. It really excites me.”

Rina couldn’t hold his eyes. A warm blush swept through her face.

“You’re nervous. That also gives me a buzz. Don’t worry. I’m not going to touch you. I don’t believe in taking women by force.
However, if you’re interested, all you gotta do is wink. I’m not as sick as I look.”

“Remember what I told you that day at the park?” Rina said. “I’ve reinstated every single word.”

Donatti managed a fleeting smile. “Well, then, since sex is out and your plane isn’t scheduled to leave for four hours, do
you want to crash here?”

Rina’s eyes went back to his bandage. “Your wound is oozing, Mr. Donatti. Please let me take a look at it.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re in pain. If it’s only pain, then you’re fine. But if your wound is festering, you’ve got a serious
problem. Just stand up and let me take a peek. Even if you’re fine, your bandage needs to be changed.”

Donatti stalled, then got up from his chair. A moment later, she was close to him, her eyes level with his waist. He could
feel her breath on his oversensitive skin. She began to peel back the layers of bandage. As she worked, he focused in on her
face, a mask of concentration. Instantly, he was aware of her fingertips brushing against him. Not even a smidgen of sexual
overtone.

Rina regarded his wound—red and swollen and oozing. A brownish raised ring sat on the left side of his rib cage. Next to it,
the skin was torn and shredded. It was especially jarring because the bullet holes sat on his otherwise perfect body. “You
got hit twice. First one’s just a graze wound. Second one went in and out.”