Murder 101 by Faye Kellerman Page B

Finally, everybody was assembled and Rachel had finished giving the babysitter last-minute instructions. The brood stepped out into the cold night air, Decker’s children walking ahead, catching up with one another’s lives. They talked about movies, songs, and television series that left Decker in the dark.
    “Do you know what they’re talking about?” he asked Rina.
    “Kinda. You know, we do have Netflix. You can stream a lot of series. That means you watch them all at once.”
    “I know what streaming is, Ms. Flipphone.”
    “It serves me perfectly well. All I do is make calls and text. Why should I get a new one, especially in a small town where we don’t need an app to know every single gas station or movie theater within a thirty-mile radius.”
    Decker felt his own smartphone vibrate. Without checking the caller, he let the call go to voice mail. He watched his kids joke around with each other. “We did something right. They all seem to get along.” His phone vibrated again. He took it out of his coat pocket and checked the prefix. “It’s the police station. Probably McAdams. I should probably take this.”
    “Why are they calling so late in the evening?”
    “Yeah, that ain’t good.” He slowed his walk. “Go on with the kids. I’ll meet up with you.”
    “Do you know where the restaurant is?”
    “Actually, I have no idea.” He dithered so long that the call went to voice mail again. He debated whether or not to call back. “Whatever it is, I suppose it can wait until I get fed.”
    “That certainly is a change in your previous attitude.”
    “Yeah, the difference between being the person in charge and being a peon. Besides, how can I help? I’m three hours away.” They were almost at the entrance of the restaurant when the phone buzzed a third time.
    Rina said, “It must be important.”
    “Yeah, I guess. Go in with the family. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” He pressed the button. “Hey, Harvard, what do you have for me?”
    “It’s not McAdams, Pete, it’s Mike Radar.”
    Decker had asked the captain for another day in Manhattan so he had expected to hear back. But not at eight in the evening. And not with the tone of voice he was using: all business.
    Mike said, “How soon can you get back here?”
    “How soon do you need?”
    “Ten minutes ago.”
    “What is it?”
    “Homicide. First real one we’ve had in twenty years and it’s nasty. It should make you feel right at home.”
    DECKER WENT BACK to Sammy’s place and grabbed the car, insisting that Rina stay in Brooklyn and visit Cindy, Koby, and the boys tomorrow. They’d be disappointed if no one made the trip, and he’d most likely be very busy for the next twenty-four hours.
    He made it back to Greenbury in two hours and fifteen minutes.
    He was famished, although he barely noticed his pangs because as soon as he pulled up in front of the apartment building, his heart began to beat in full throttle. The “crime scene” was a mess and teaming with people who didn’t belong. Nothing was taped off so everyone was tromping around the complex, destroying things like possible shoe prints and tire tracks and trace evidence.
    The neighbors were out in droves. Greenbury PD was small. Often, the guys and gals took turns doing uniform duties and detective work. So in a very short time, Decker knew the entire force by name. Stacy Steven, bundled in outerwear to protect her from the frigid temperatures, was guarding the doorway to the building. She was very young and seemed relieved when she spotted Decker. “The captain’s inside. Unit 14.”
    “Anyone else here besides you?”
    “Yeah, everyone from the department is here. Mike put me in front and told me not to let anyone in or out.”
    “When was it reported? The homicide.”
    “I don’t know. Mike called all of us down about two hours ago.” She jumped up and down and rubbed her hands together.
    “You’ve been out here for two hours?” When she nodded,