Jonathan stared at him, his mouth agape.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a change of clothes back there? Maybe a towel? I’d take a grease rag at this point.”

“Let’s go find you something dry,” Jonathan said.

“First tell me about the emergency. What do you mean by ‘Chaim’s missing’?”

Jonathan inched the van back onto the road. “Exactly that.”

“He took off?”

“Appears that way.” Jonathan sneaked in a glimpse at his brother. “Are you all right?”

“I’m drenched and my ass is sore, but otherwise fine. Tell me about Chaim. Details.”

“When I got to Quinton, he was already gone. Apparently, right after Sha’chris, he claimed he wasn’t feeling well and needed to lie down. But when Minda went to check on him, the room was empty.”

“Any ideas?”

Jonathan had reduced the van’s speed to almost nothing. He was still struggling to keep within the lines of the roadway. It was as black as pitch outside with no street lighting. “About twenty minutes after I arrived at shiva, we received a phone call from Leon Hershfield. I took it.”

“What’s going on?”

“Hershfield had just gotten off the phone with JFK airport police and the local FBI.”

“Oh my God!”

“You can see what’s coming.”

“He was trying to skip.”

“Those guys you were telling me about… the ones Randy mentioned.”

“Weiss, Harabi, and Ibn Dod. They were with him?”

“This was per Hershfield… who was sketchy with the facts. Anyway, he told me that they were all set to board an international flight to Israel. Security stopped Harabi and Ibn Dod because apparently something was wrong with their passports or maybe they looked too jumpy or didn’t look Chasidic enough-”

“They were dressed as Chasids?”

“Yes, I suppose.” A big sigh. “You know how tight things are now. Especially El Al. As soon as security was called in, they took off-scattered.”

“Really stupid of them to travel together.”

“Last-minute flights to Israel are always a problem. Airlines have cut their dailies to Israel after the attacks.”

“Did security nab anyone?”

“I don’t know, because no one’s talking.” Jonathan tapped the wheel. “Airport police haven’t told us a damn thing. FBI hasn’t told us a damn thing. The Feds arrived at Minda’s house and at the shiva about the same time as the phone call. Hershfield was supposedly on his way to the airport to sort it all out, but… but I have the feeling that they don’t have Chaim in custody.”

“Why not?”

“By Hershfield’s questions.”

“What did he ask?”

“The gist? Where would Chaim go if he wanted to hide out? But he was subtler than that. And the Feds basically asked me the same thing.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I decided that after the debacle with Shayndie, I’d talk to you first. So I haven’t opened my mouth to anyone. Things are frantic over there. When no one was looking, I took off. My question to you is… where do we go from here?”

“Not back to Quinton,” Decker told him.

“No, not unless you want to be detained for hours.”

“Do you know where Chaim would be hiding, Jon?”

“No idea. My first thoughts were maybe one of his stores-in Manhattan or in Brooklyn. I’m sure both places are swarming with Feds right now.”

“So that would be useless.”

“I think so,” Jonathan agreed. “Maybe we should meet Hershfield down at the airport.”

“Did he ask you to come meet him?”

“No.”

No one spoke.

“Well, what the hey!” Decker slapped his wet thigh. “Sure, let’s try the airport.”

“Think they’ll tell us anything?”

“No. But if they have Weiss, Harabi, or Ibn Dod in custody, I’ll call up my brother. Those guys are wanted big time in Miami. If I get him on the phone, and he starts in with official extradition processes, it’ll give us some credibility.” Decker regarded his sodden lap. “Before we do anything, I need dry clothing. Since Quinton by now is Fedland, how about the Bainberry mall? Something over there should still be open.”

Jonathan turned the van around.

They rode a few moments in silence. Decker leaned forward and stared out the windshield.

“Your brother will be happy then,” Jonathan said. “That the police captured these guys… if they did capture them.”

Decker didn’t answer.

“But Chaim wasn’t a part of their Miami ecstasy ring, so far as your brother knew, right?”

Still no response.

“Akiva-”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Silence.

“Akiva, did you hear what I-”

“Just a minute…”

“What is it?”

“Hold on…” Decker’s eyes swept from the windshield to the rearview mirror, to the side mirror, then out the windshield again.

“Akiva, what’s going on?” Jonathan asked.

“I’m not sure…” Decker’s mind was reeling. “There were headlights behind us before you made a U-turn. One headlight, not a pair… which I thought was peculiar because it’s pouring outside.” Without thinking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the snub-nose.

“Wha… when did you get that?”

“It’s a long story, but right now I’m glad I have it. Can I dry the grip off on your jacket?”

“Hold on, I’ll take it off.”

“Don’t bother, I just need the hem.” He wiped moisture off the gun. “Since the vehicle was in the distance, I thought maybe it was a car with a busted headlight. Now you just turned around, so it should be facing us. But it’s not there.”

Outside, the world was shades of charcoal and black. Even the sky failed to bring forth any illumination, the cloud cover blocking out the stars and the moon.

“Jonathan, cut your lights. Then coast a minute or two and pull over.”

The rabbi killed the beams. They were encased in total darkness. Decker turned on the flashlight and shone it out the windshield. It wasn’t much, but it was better than a blackout. “Coast a few minutes, then pull over.”

A warm flush swept through Jonathan’s body. His hands were shaking. “Here goes nothing…”

The van bumped and dipped and finally stopped, askew in the mud, just inches from a tree trunk.

“Switch places with me,” Decker told him.

Jonathan started for the door, then stopped himself. “You mean I should crawl over you.”

“Yes, of course. Stay down.”

Falling over one another, they switched places. Decker was on the floor of the driver’s seat; Jonathan had hunkered down on the passenger’s side. Decker could hear his brother breathing hard… or maybe he was hearing his own exhalations. A moment ago, he had been exhausted, completely spent. In a few seconds’ time, adrenaline had put speed and force into his heartbeat.

“What-”

“Shhh…” A pause. “Hear that?”

“What?”

“Listen!”

Finally, Jonathan heard it, the low growl of an engine grumbling through the rain. Decker peered over the dashboard, but nothing came into his field of vision. He lowered the driver’s window halfway down, more than enough to liberate the barrel of the snub-nose. Then he looked over the dashboard again.

The motorized whir grew a bit louder, then abruptly all was silent except for the rain.

“Uh-oh… this doesn’t look good…”

“Wha-!”

“Shhh…”

Jonathan would have thrown up his hands had there been room. His armpits were soaked through.

“Okay, okay… Where’s the flashlight?”

Jonathan gave it to him. “What are you going to do?”

“I gotta see him first.” Decker was talking to himself. He patted the battery pack. “Let’s hope this motherfucker’s strong.”

“Who do you think it is?”

“Don’t know.” He put the driver’s window all the way up, then unlocked the doors. Again he peeked over the dash. He couldn’t really see anything, but the darkness in front of him seemed to shift, as if the air molecules were rearranging themselves. Could be his imagination playing games. But then something shifted again. “Get way down, Jonathan. Tuck your head between your legs and your hands over your neck.”