wine, the group washed their hands and said the ritual blessing, and then Decker made the HaMotzi, the prayer over the bread.
Finally, the meal could begin in earnest: soup, salad, rib roast, lentils with red peppers and onions, green beans with hazelnuts, and mixed berry cobbler for dessert. It was enough to break the zippers and pop buttons on any waistline. There was lively conversation between the students and Rina as they discussed the parashat hashavua: the weekly chapter of bible. The kids were intelligent and opinionated. McAdams, on the other hand, was quiet. Like a lot of secular, upper-crust kids of his generation, he was probably scripture impaired. But he was polite and spoke when he was spoken to.
By nine o’clock, things were starting to wrap up and that’s when Decker’s landline rang. Rina and he exchanged glances. Decker’s father had died a year ago, but his mother was still alive and in her nineties. Rina’s parents were both in their nineties. Whenever they got a phone call on Shabbat, it was a reason to worry. Decker held up his finger and went to the answering machine, which identified phone numbers. “It’s local.”
“Thank God,” Rina said. “Probably a robocall.”
The voice kicked in. It was Mike Radar and Decker picked up the phone. “It’s Decker. What’s up, Captain?” He listened intently over the phone. “When? … Okay … okay.” He checked his watch. “Does he know when the lock was broken? No idea? All right, I’ll look into it. Do you know how far it is from my house? … no, I’ll handle it. Just tell me how to get there on foot … no, I don’t mind walking if it’s not too far. A mile away is no problem, Mike … no, really, you stay put. I just ate the equivalent of half a cow and it would be good for me to get a little exercise. Unless it’s something more, I’ll call you on Sunday.”
Decker hung up the phone. “There was a break-in at the local cemetery and the watchman is all up in arms. The other detectives are ice fishing in Canada for the weekend so the captain wondered if I wouldn’t mind handling it.”
Rina feigned mock outrage. “You mean your colleagues didn’t invite you with them?”
Decker grinned. “Actually, I made the cut, but I declined. Maybe next time.”
McAdams said, “I would have gone. Nobody asked me.”
“They probably thought your blue blood couldn’t handle the cold.” Decker sighed inwardly. He had to make the offer to look like a good guy. “Come if you want.”
“Of course, I’ll come.”
“Take the car. I’ll meet you there in about a half hour.”
“I’ll walk with you, Old Man.”
“Harvard, it’s really cold outside. I’m doing it for religious reasons. No reason for you to suffer.”
“I’m not gonna let you outmacho me.”
“Suit yourself. Let me grab a few things and we’ll be on our way.”
“I’ll get your jacket, Tyler,” Rina said.
“Thanks.” McAdams jammed his hands into his pants pockets. His eyes were darting back and forth and he walked in itty-bitty circles. When Rina brought over his outerwear, he bundled up and then forced a smile. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Do you want some package warmers for your feet and hands?” Decker asked. “I’m taking some with me. No sense getting frostbite.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Decker gave a wave and he and the kid were off. The night was moonless with thousands of stars sprinkling the dark sky like salt on black velvet. Without the cloud cover, the temperature had dropped to the teens. No wind … just cold air and the mist of warm breath wafting through darkness.
McAdams said, “Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. It was my wife’s idea.”
“Yeah, I intuited that. She is a good cook. She’s also lovely … I mean personality.”
“She’s lovely all the way around. I’m very lucky.”
McAdams said, “You have a large family. I counted like seven different people my age in the various pictures.”
“Five kids, two spouses, twin grandsons, and a granddaughter.”
“Wow.” A pause. “I take it the black guy is a son-in-law? Or maybe you were married before.”
“I was married before, but not to Koby’s mother. He’s married to my elder daughter, Cindy, who’s a cop in Philadelphia. Koby is in medical school at the University of Pennsylvania. They have twin boys. The older two white boys are my stepsons. The girls are my biological daughters and the youngest kid is our foster son who’s been with us for the last four years. He is a classical pianist who just graduated from Juilliard.”
“Impressive. What do the other kids do?”
“Sam and his wife are both doctors. They have Lily. They live in Brooklyn. Jacob—the one who looks like Rina—just finished his Ph.D. in public policy. He’s still …” Decker laughed. “He’s still finding himself. My other daughter, Hannah, is in a Ph.D. program at the Ferkauf School of Psychology in New York.”
“Not bad … but no Crimson.”
“Yeah, you Harvard guys think that there’s only one school in the world.”
“No, we do accept Princeton or Yale. But that’s about it.”
Decker smiled. “What about yourself, McAdams?”
“What do you mean?”
“Parents, brothers, sisters, city of birth? For as much as you yap when we’re driving, I don’t know anything about you.”
“Nothing much to tell. I grew up in the city. By the city, that means Manhattan. My parents divorced when I was ten, and both of them were remarried by the time I was fourteen. A couple of half sibs, a couple of stepsibs, all of them younger and none of them as smart as I am. I don’t have much of a relationship with any of them.”
Talking about family was obviously painful for him so Decker didn’t ask any more questions. They walked the next ten minutes in silence until the local graveyard came into view. That was another thing about small towns. Cemeteries were right in your face, not like L.A. where they’re situated in no-man’s-land off the freeway. This one was several blocks of upright headstones with a secluded, gated portion for the mausoleums: domed structures with fluted columns. Since the captain had mentioned something being broken into, it had to be one of the crypts.
Decker said, “Do you want a hand or foot warmer package? My feet are ice at this point.”
“Yeah, sure.”
After handing him the packets, Decker took a couple for himself, broke them in half, and dropped them into his snow boots. “Ah … better. I’m not really cold—after eating that much meat you can’t be cold—but my hands and feet get numb.”
“Why
