Serpent’s Tooth. Faye Kellerman
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“You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking to me like that—”
“I’ll leave,” Rina said.
“Good idea,” Decker said.
Rina went into the bedroom without slamming the door. Which surprised Cindy. If that had been her, she would have made her displeasure known very loudly. Dad was talking, more like ranting … as usual.
“… even bother to come and talk to me about it?”
“I knew what you’d say,” Cindy retorted.
“So you’re a mind reader.”
“No, just a dad reader. And I’m right. You’re not objective.”
“It’s not a matter of objectivity,” Decker shot back. “Not only would I discourage you from joining, I’d discourage anyone from joining.”
“Good thing you don’t write ad copy for LAPD.”
Decker honed in on her. “Cindy, there are some cop types. And even most of them don’t make good officers. But if you’re of a certain ilk and if you have a little bit of brainpower and if you have untold patience and if you can keep your mouth shut and if you have a good intuition and if you think before you react, then maybe you’ll make a good cop. And yes, political correctness notwithstanding, it helps to be big and strong. Which you are not!”
“I’m not a ninety-pound weakling—”
“Any man your size with normal musculature could take you down in a minute.”
“So that’s where my superior brain will come in.”
“You do have a superior brain. You just aren’t choosing to use it. Cynthia, you don’t have patience, you don’t like orders, you’re not detail-oriented, you’re way too emotional, and you’re impulsive … like just … dropping out of school—”
“I thought about it for a long time—”
“Then you didn’t think it through. And I don’t care how much you work out, you’re no match for most men. Someone my size could squeeze you like a tomato.”
“We’re going around in circles, Daddy.”
“You’ve neither the temperament nor the inclination. You’d make a lousy cop and a lousy cop is a dead cop—”
“Gee, Dad, thanks for the encouragement—”
“Better for you to be furious than for me to accept a flag at your funeral.” He turned to her, his eyes burning with anger. “Do yourself a favor. Find a better way to get even with me.”
“So you think I’m doing this from some sort of Freudian revenge motive?”
“Frankly, I don’t know why you’re doing this. This isn’t the first time in your life that you’ve done something outrageous. But it is the most dangerous stunt you’ve ever pulled.”
Cindy’s eyes filled with water. “You’re not being reasonable or fair.”
“And you, Cynthia Rachel, are crying. You think I’m talking tough, just wait. You think your drill sergeant’s going to be impressed with your tears? Or worse, how ’bout your perp. ‘Better stop shitting around or I’ll charge you with ten to fifteen for felonious tear-jerking.’”
Angrily, Cindy dried her eyes. “Touché.”
Decker suddenly stopped pacing. He closed his eyes, tried to vent some of the rage. This was his daughter he was talking to. Gently, he put his hands on Cindy’s shoulders. Angrily, she wiggled out of his touch. What did he expect?
“Cindy, I’m not trying to win points. But I am being brutally honest. This is one area I know.”
Her voice was a whisper. “And I respect that. But with all due respect to your knowledge, I’m twenty-four. I’ll make my own decisions. And suffer the consequences if they’re bad ones. Dad, I think we’ve both said enough—”
“No, we haven’t said nearly enough—”
“Telephone, Peter,” Rina said.
Decker whipped his head around, asked her a testy “Who is it!”
“Marge.”
Decker barked. “Is it an emergency?”
“I don’t know,” Rina answered quietly. “Would you like me to ask her?”
Decker made fists with his hands, released his fingers. “You stay here, young lady. I’m not through yet.”
Decker charged into the bedroom and slammed the door, which made Cindy startle.
As soon as he was gone, she leaped from her chair and started to pace.
“What a supreme jerk! No wonder Mom had an affair.” Then Cindy gasped, suddenly remembering that Rina was in the room. She felt herself go hot and cold at the same time. Sheepishly, she looked at her stepmother’s face. “Oh, my God! Did you … did he … did …”
“It’s all right, Cindy. I knew.”
Cindy covered her mouth. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe I said that! God, I’m such a moron!”
“You’re riled. Would you like some coffee? Maybe tea?”
“How about a half dozen Advils.”
“How about one?”
“He’s right, you know!” Cindy flopped into one of the buckskin chairs and dried her eyes. “I’ve got an incredibly big mouth. Things just … slip out!”
Rina said nothing.
Cindy looked at Rina. “So he told you?”
Rina nodded.
“He must feel real close to you.”
Rina stifled a smile. “Guess so.”
“It’s not as idiotic as it sounds. Dad never ever talked about it. And it didn’t come up in any of the divorce proceedings. Even during their worst arguments, Dad never brought it up or threw it in Mom’s face. There were times I actually wondered if he even knew. But then I figured how could he not know. Mom wasn’t exactly subtle … all those hang-ups every time I picked up the phone.”
Rina nodded.
“It wasn’t all Mom’s fault, you know. He was never home. Even when he was home, he wasn’t home. He was a decent father. Did the right things. Showed up at all the school events and conferences. But there was this distance. He was dreadfully unhappy. So was Mom. They had to get married, you know. Because of me.”
“They