volunteered to look for him,” Rina said. “Not Akiva. Akiva just went along to keep him company. Akiva doesn’t even know what the boy looks like.”
“Poor Breina,” Shayna repeated. “It’s tough to raise teenage boys.”
Rina said, “Shhh, she’s coming.”
The appetizer was served. Rina was on her second sweet and sour meatball when there was a loud knock on the door. Shimon and Ezra leaped up at the same time. Ezra got to the door first.
Rina studied the men as they came into the room. Jonathan seemed anxious. Peter, on the other hand, was calm, expressionless—his eyes unreadable. His professional demeanor. That was really worrisome. For a moment, she flashed to those young faces plastered on milk cartons. The images were too gruesome to dwell upon.
Ezra said, “You didn’t find him.”
The women came out from the kitchen. Breina’s lip started to quiver. Frieda began to stagger backward. Esther stood up and offered Frieda her chair. Ezra told everyone to just calm down. But he was anything but tranquil.
“He’s probably at a friend’s,” Jonathan said. “I didn’t know all his friends—”
“He wouldn’t go without asking me,” Breina said. Her voice was shrill. “They wouldn’t let him come without asking me. Not on Rosh Hashanah.”
Ezra said, “Did you check the house? Maybe he went home?”
“Twice,” Jonathan said. “If he’s home, he’s not answering.”
“I’ll go check,” Ezra said to Breina. “I’ll check his friends, your brother’s house—”
“I already checked Shlomi’s house,” Jonathan said. “He’s not there.” He whispered a damn under his breath.
Decker said to Ezra, “How about if I come with you—”
“No,” Ezra snapped. He hugged himself and exhaled slowly. “No, that isn’t necessary.”
“Let Akiva come with you, Ez,” Jonathan said.
“Why?” Ezra said. “Do you think I need a policeman to look for my son?” He turned to Decker, his face a mask of pure fear. “Do you think I need the police, is that it?”
“No,” Decker said.
“Then why do you want to come?” Ezra shouted.
Decker shrugged and said, “Up to you, Ezra. You want some company, I’ll be happy to tag along.”
“I don’t care who goes,” Breina shrieked. “Just go.” She burst into tears.
“Why don’t the two of you split up,” Shimon suggested. “It will go twice as fast.”
Decker answered, “I don’t know who his friends are or where they live.”
“I can take you to them,” Aaron, Noam’s eldest brother, volunteered.
“I don’t need anyone with me!” Ezra protested.
“Then go already,” Breina said.
Frieda spoke up, “Ezra, take Akiva with you.”
“Mama, there’s no reason for a policeman—”
“Take him!” Frieda ordered. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Decker caught Frieda’s eye. Outwardly, she seemed in control. Her voice was firm, no tears to be seen. Her hands weren’t shaking but they were clenched into balls, her knuckles almost white. What he saw was a frightened grandmother, trying very hard to keep a tight rein on her emotions. An expression he’d witnessed countless times as a detective in Juvey Division. Time to put the past aside. He gave her a shrug that said the situation was no big deal. She shrugged back.
Their first real communication: a series of noncommittal shrugs.
Ezra, on the other hand, was losing ground to his anxiety. He continued to bite his nails. His posture was stiff, his feet frozen in place as if he couldn’t quite figure out how to move.
Not that Decker thought he was overreacting. Although the kid had been gone for only a few hours, the circumstances were unusual. The cop in him didn’t like it. He was experienced enough to know that most of the time, the panic did turn out to be much ado about nothing. But he couldn’t help thinking about the flip side—those ice-cold, barely pubescent bodies lying on steel slabs in the morgue …
He needed to prod them into action. He put his arm around Ezra and gently propelled him to the door. “Let me come with you, Ezra. I can use the exercise. How many houses are we talking about?”
“Where should I go, Breina?” Ezra asked of his wife. His voice cracked.
Breina rattled off a list of ten names.
“Piece of cake,” Decker said. “You know all of the houses?”
Ezra nodded.
“Okay,” Decker said. “Let’s get it over with.” He patted Ezra on the back. “You lead.”
He noticed Breina Levine had her hand to her chest. She seemed to be breathing rapidly. As he crossed the threshold of the door, Decker whispered to Jonathan to keep an eye on his sister-in-law.
The food was served and the groups broke down into two categories: those who ate because they were nervous and those whose stomachs were shut down by anxiety. The wait seemed interminable. In fact, it took only an hour for Decker and Ezra to return. Breina Levine took one look at her husband’s face and collapsed into a chair. Frieda rushed into the kitchen to get a glass of water for her.
Decker said to Jonathan and Shimon, “Send everyone except family home.” He paused, thinking about that.
He was friggin family.
“You think it’s bad?” Jonathan asked.
It wasn’t good, Decker thought. But there was no point in offering a worried uncle his professional opinion.
“We don’t know where the boy is. That’s all we know right now. We don’t know where he is. One step at a time. First, you clear the place. Send the guests home. Have the kids—the brothers, sisters, and cousins—wait in the back room. I’ll talk to them in a moment.”
It took fifteen minutes for everyone to find coats and jackets. People patted hands, reassured the distraught parents and grandparents. Nobody believed a word they were saying.
When everyone was gone, Decker sat down at the dining-room table and tried to clear his mind of morbid thoughts. Perversely, all he could think about were the tragedies. The overwhelming grief on the parents’ faces as he broke the bad news. It made his stomach churn.
The table was still piled with food. But the salad had wilted under the weight of the dressing, the cooked vegetables had wrinkled, the edges of the roast beef had begun to curl. It was past four and Decker hadn’t eaten all day. He
