is this little tryst scheduled to last?”
“Around an hour . . . maybe a little bit more.”
“When and what time?”
“Sunday around three.”
“What excuse is she giving her parents?”
“That she’s doing work in the library. They live real close. She does work there all the time.” When Decker gave him a sour look, he said, “I swear I’ll be back at the house by eight at the latest, and that’s allowing for an hour travel time. Rina’s taking me shopping on Tuesday morning, and then I’m leaving for New York on the red-eye. It’ll end because of distance anyway, unless she comes to New York. There’s certainly no reason for me to ever come back to L.A.”
Decker was quiet for a moment. “I suppose that’s true.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Gabe said. “I mean I love you guys and all that stuff. But you two go back east all the time to see your real kids and I can always see you then.”
“My real kids?”
“You know what I’m saying.”
“I understand that Los Angeles isn’t filled with happy memories for you. I’m not offended. But I want you to know that I wouldn’t be wasting my breath—which at my age is a precious commodity—if I didn’t consider you my real kid.”
“I know you care. I’m sorry if I sound unappreciative.”
“No apology necessary. Just saying that you always have a home with us.”
“I know. And I’m really grateful.”
“Good to hear. So you’ll promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“When you play the Music Center, you’ll get us free tickets.”
Gabe grinned. “I will be delighted to get you front row seats, even if I have to pay for them myself. I’ll even arrange for backstage passes.”
“You do that then we’re square.”
“That’s gonna happen, you know . . . that I’m gonna play all the biggies like Music Center and Carnegie Hall and all the top venues in Europe and Asia. I’ve already chosen what conductors I want to work with, what sonatas and concertos I’m gonna play with each one and what I’m gonna do for encores.”
Decker nodded and tried to stifle a smile.
“It’s gonna happen.”
“I don’t doubt it, Gabe. You’ve got the talent.”
“I’ve got the talent, I’ve got the drive, and I practice more than anyone else at my school. I’m
possessed
.” He patted Decker’s back. “Like someone else when he’s
working
.”
“Don’t blame this on me. I refuse to take responsibility.” A pause. “I do have a question for you. What are you going to wear to the Grammys?”
“One-button tux over a black tee and bright red lizard cowboy boots.”
“Bright red lizard cowboy boots.” He nodded.
“Real sick, huh?” A pause. “I think I’ll wear my glasses instead of contacts, though. It’s who I am.”
“Indeed.” Decker held back a smile. “Pretty sharp outfit.”
“My dad’s a first-class bastard, but a spiffy dresser. I guess it’s just genetic.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
W HILE FLIPPING THROUGH the Polaroids, Decker said, “Interesting . . . and a bit voyeuristic . . .” He threw the pictures on the desk. “But the man was eighty-nine and a recluse. Maybe he hadn’t given up his vices, but with his wealth and age, I doubt if he went out to find them.”
“Escort services?” Oliver tried out.
“Yeah, sure, go ahead. Maybe he was shot by a call girl.”
“It’s happened before,” Marge said. “She saw that she was dealing with an old man and decided to rob the place.”
“First of all, he was not only shot but someone also bashed his head in. That’s personal. Secondly, did you see anything of value there?”
Oliver said, “Maybe the assailant was looking for something specific. When he found it, he took it and left.”
“Only problem with that, he—or she—had to get past the tiger first,” Decker said.
“Tiki was dragging around chain,” Marge said. “Stands to reason that she was chained up at one point. Maybe Penny was expecting a call
“Around an hour . . . maybe a little bit more.”
“When and what time?”
“Sunday around three.”
“What excuse is she giving her parents?”
“That she’s doing work in the library. They live real close. She does work there all the time.” When Decker gave him a sour look, he said, “I swear I’ll be back at the house by eight at the latest, and that’s allowing for an hour travel time. Rina’s taking me shopping on Tuesday morning, and then I’m leaving for New York on the red-eye. It’ll end because of distance anyway, unless she comes to New York. There’s certainly no reason for me to ever come back to L.A.”
Decker was quiet for a moment. “I suppose that’s true.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Gabe said. “I mean I love you guys and all that stuff. But you two go back east all the time to see your real kids and I can always see you then.”
“My real kids?”
“You know what I’m saying.”
“I understand that Los Angeles isn’t filled with happy memories for you. I’m not offended. But I want you to know that I wouldn’t be wasting my breath—which at my age is a precious commodity—if I didn’t consider you my real kid.”
“I know you care. I’m sorry if I sound unappreciative.”
“No apology necessary. Just saying that you always have a home with us.”
“I know. And I’m really grateful.”
“Good to hear. So you’ll promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“When you play the Music Center, you’ll get us free tickets.”
Gabe grinned. “I will be delighted to get you front row seats, even if I have to pay for them myself. I’ll even arrange for backstage passes.”
“You do that then we’re square.”
“That’s gonna happen, you know . . . that I’m gonna play all the biggies like Music Center and Carnegie Hall and all the top venues in Europe and Asia. I’ve already chosen what conductors I want to work with, what sonatas and concertos I’m gonna play with each one and what I’m gonna do for encores.”
Decker nodded and tried to stifle a smile.
“It’s gonna happen.”
“I don’t doubt it, Gabe. You’ve got the talent.”
“I’ve got the talent, I’ve got the drive, and I practice more than anyone else at my school. I’m
possessed
.” He patted Decker’s back. “Like someone else when he’s
working
.”
“Don’t blame this on me. I refuse to take responsibility.” A pause. “I do have a question for you. What are you going to wear to the Grammys?”
“One-button tux over a black tee and bright red lizard cowboy boots.”
“Bright red lizard cowboy boots.” He nodded.
“Real sick, huh?” A pause. “I think I’ll wear my glasses instead of contacts, though. It’s who I am.”
“Indeed.” Decker held back a smile. “Pretty sharp outfit.”
“My dad’s a first-class bastard, but a spiffy dresser. I guess it’s just genetic.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
W HILE FLIPPING THROUGH the Polaroids, Decker said, “Interesting . . . and a bit voyeuristic . . .” He threw the pictures on the desk. “But the man was eighty-nine and a recluse. Maybe he hadn’t given up his vices, but with his wealth and age, I doubt if he went out to find them.”
“Escort services?” Oliver tried out.
“Yeah, sure, go ahead. Maybe he was shot by a call girl.”
“It’s happened before,” Marge said. “She saw that she was dealing with an old man and decided to rob the place.”
“First of all, he was not only shot but someone also bashed his head in. That’s personal. Secondly, did you see anything of value there?”
Oliver said, “Maybe the assailant was looking for something specific. When he found it, he took it and left.”
“Only problem with that, he—or she—had to get past the tiger first,” Decker said.
“Tiki was dragging around chain,” Marge said. “Stands to reason that she was chained up at one point. Maybe Penny was expecting a call
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