Faye Kellerman

Prayers for the Dead


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Eva said. “It’s actually my husband and my father. They don’t get along. I’m caught in the middle.”

      Bram said, “Eva, honey, maybe we should save this—”

      “You see, my parents are very devout people,” Eva continued. “Religious, good people. But …”

      “But your husband’s Jewish,” Decker said. “It’s created some problems.”

      Eva stared at him, dumbfounded.

      Bram rubbed his eyes. “Last name, Eva. It’s a giveaway.”

      Decker said, “I can understand how intermarriage might cause conflict.”

      “It isn’t that David’s religious,” Eva said. “Quite the contrary, he isn’t religious at all. Neither are his parents. David never grew up with any kind of religious training. And from the start, he’s had no objection to me raising the kids as Christians. They’ve been baptized and confirmed. The kids and I attend church regularly. David doesn’t care. But for some stubborn reason, he refuses to convert! Jews are very stubborn peo—”

      “Eva,” Bram chided.

      “Bram, you can’t deny that it says right in the Bible that they’re stiff-necked—”

      “Eva, enough.”

      “It doesn’t say that in the Bible?”

      “You’re quoting Bible to me?”

      Eva stood up from the couch, fire in her eyes. “I’m telling you what it says right in the holy book.” She picked up the Bible from the coffee table. “Would you like me to find the passage?”

      “Exodus thirty-two, nine,” he said wearily. “You’re being literal—”

      “And you’re being condescending.”

      “Eva, can we save the biblical exegesis—”

      “You know, Bram, maybe I don’t know Hebrew like you do. But I do know Jews—”

      “Fine, Eva, you’re a mavin on contemporary Jewish Zeitgeist. Can we move on?”

      “What in the world is a Zeitgeist?” Paul asked. “Sounds like something from a fifties horror flick.”

      “Honestly, Bram, I think you pull these words out of a hat!” Eva exclaimed.

      “Isn’t it a sociology term?” Maggie said.

      Bram said, “It’s the intellectual, moral, and cultural state of a people in a given era.”

      “Sure, I knew that,” Luke said.

      “What’s a mavin?” Paul asked.

      “Expert,” Bram said. “Comes from the Hebrew word lehaveen—to understand.”

      “So why didn’t you just say ‘so you’re an expert on Jews.’” Eva crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “You’re just infuriating sometimes. Always complicating everything. Just like David. He couldn’t make things easy on me and the family and just convert. No, he had to be spiteful—”

      “Maybe the poor guy was just trying to assert himself,” Paul said. “Dad can be very intimidating.”

      “The word is bossy,” Luke said.

      “How can you talk about him like that after what happened to him!” Eva yelled out.

      “You know, Eva, you don’t have a monopoly on grief,” Luke said. “I’m just as devastated as you are.”

      Eva went on. “If David really cared about his family, he could have converted. Of course, now it’s too late!”

      “Cold nights ahead for David,” Luke muttered.

      Paul stifled a smile. A beeper went off. The priest looked at his belt, checked the number, then stood up. “Excuse me for a moment.”

      After Bram left the room, Eva turned her ire to Paul. “You know when Spencer was sick, David sure didn’t mind Dad handling all the surgeries and the medical expenses. Suddenly, Dad’s take-charge attitude didn’t bother him a bit!”

      “What was wrong with Spencer?” Decker asked.

      “He was born with a cleft palate,” Eva said. “It was a very difficult labor. Afterward, I ran a high fever and started hemorrhaging. David was completely useless. Couldn’t deal with it. He just went off and buried himself in his work. Left me to fend for myself—”

      “He was very upset, Eva,” Paul said. “He just didn’t know what to do.”

      “Well, he might have stuck around instead of bolting.” Eva looked at Decker. “My father had to step in—not only for me but for Spencer. My mom took over the care of my other children while David composed himself. And you know what, Lieutenant. My father never lorded it over my husband—”

      Luke interrupted, “Well, that’s not quite true—”

      “Excuse me, Lieutenant,” Eva said forcefully. “I’d like to check on my mother now. Any other questions I can answer?”

      Decker kept his face flat, shook his head.

      Eva turned on her heels and trotted upstairs.

      The woman had her opinions. Then Decker remembered her position in the family. The little girl after three boys. No doubt Eva had been indulged.

      Luke said, “I loved my father dearly, Lieutenant. But it wasn’t that simple.”

      Maggie said, “It’s Eva’s business.”

      “I just don’t want the lieutenant here thinking that David’s a total jerk.”

      Maggie said, “He was a total jerk—”

      “Dad emasculated him—”

      “He did not!” Maggie broke in. “So he berated David. David deserved it. Deserting Eva like he did.”

      Paul said, “No offense, Mag, but you don’t understand how wives can be.”

      “Amen,” Luke said.

      “I don’t believe this,” Maggie said. “Another stupid boys against the girls argument.”

      Michael came back down. “Where’s Bram?”

      “He had to use the phone.” Paul turned to Decker. “Do you really need to hear all this?”

      Decker stood, folded his notepad. “No, I think I have all the information I need right now. I’ll leave as soon as Bram gets off the phone.”

      Luke said, “We’re bickering like when we were children. It’s all the stress.”

      Michael said, “We all loved Dad very much. I think I speak for everyone when I say, anything you need from us to find whoever …”

      “Absolutely,” Maggie said.

      “Anything,” Paul said. “Just find the bastard and bring him to me. I’ll handle the son of a bitch!”

      Decker said, “Let the police handle it, please.”

      “Fucking asshole—”

      “Paul, please!” Maggie said.

      “Probably some bastard carjacker.” Luke began to pace. “Crime’s unbelievable in this city.”

      Paul looked pointedly at Decker. “That’s what happens when the police handle it.”

      Decker said, “Sir, I know—”

      “Dad didn’t drive an expensive car,” Michael butted in. “Why would anyone carjack a Buick?”

      “They use the car for crime,” Paul