“I can believe it. You’ve handled yourself very well under all the stress.”

Decker pulled out a chair.

“Why don’t you sit down? I can clean this up. You’re a guest.”

She sighed heavily, sat down at the table, and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “I don’t know. I’m so nervous all the time, always on edge.”

“Don’t you think you deserve a night out on the town?” he said quietly, not wanting the boy to hear.

She turned away from him.

“Those sepharim are beautiful. I can’t imagine your in-laws not wanting any of them. They’re works of art.”

“They were about as Jewish as I was. We celebrated Christmas and Hanukkah. We ate ham on Easter. We even joined a Unitarian church when Cynthia was school-age. My ex-wife was adamant about letting her choose her own religion, even though I had no objections to Cindy being raised Jewish. You can’t get much more assimilated than that.”

“True.”

“By the way, you nicely sidestepped my question.”

She glanced at Sammy.

“Peter,” she whispered, “as much as I enjoy your company, I can’t go out with you.”

“I’m not talking about a date. Something platonic. Marge Dunn is giving a recital with her boyfriend, and I’m invited. I wouldn’t mind a little company.”

“What does Marge play?”

“Flute.”

“Is she good?”

“She’s terrible. But we all love her and tell her she’s terrific. Anyway, all her boyfriends have been musicians, and her latest is a violinist. The two of them are planning to butcher Haydn. I need someone to go with.”

She said nothing.

“It’ll be really a harmless get-together. I just don’t want to be stuck there alone.”

“Won’t there be other detectives that you know?”

“They’ll all have dates. If I show up alone, I’ll be conspicuous. Then, someone’ll start trying to set me up, and I’m not interested in being set up. You’d be doing me a big favor.”

“I’m sure you know other women,” she said waspishly, then regretted saying it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She blushed.

“Oh, nothing really. I’m sure you have no shortage of women, that’s all.”

“They’re beating down my doorstep,” he laughed, touched by the tinge of jealousy in her voice. “Can’t you hear?”

“Now I know what all the loud thumping noises were.”

She grew serious.

“If feelings were everything, I would have gone out with you a long time ago. I like you. This is very hard for me, Peter. Please try to understand. My religion is my life.”

“Let me ask you something. If I were Jewish, but the same person, would you go out with me?”

“Certainly, if you were religious.”

“Plain Jewish-like my daughter-isn’t good enough?”

She hesitated a moment, then said: “It’s not a matter of good or bad, Peter. Your daughter is a fine person regardless of her religion. It’s an individual choice. I don’t feel any more comfortable with assimilated Jews like your in-laws than with non-Jews. How could they have given away beautiful treasures like these books? It takes a lot more to be a Torah Jew than just an accident of birth.”

Well, that ends that, Decker thought.

He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a six-pack of Dos Equis.

“Okay. I give up.”

“Please don’t be angry.”

“Nah, I’m not angry.” He opened up a green bottle and took a gulp. “I don’t understand your reasoning, but at least it’s nothing personal.”

“Believe me, it’s not.”

“I honestly thought you could be worn down, but you’re tough.”

He took a few more swigs, finished off the bottle, and tossed it in the garbage.

“It’s damn frustrating, though.”

Decker stared across the room, then returned his eyes to Rina.

“Anyone else ever chase you like this?”

His tone of voice had become abruptly neutral, and his eyes were hard. She didn’t know what to think.

“Not really,” she said softly. “I met Yitzchak at seventeen and married him six months later. I was out of circulation very young.”

“How about recently? Anyone ever ask you out and you refused?”

“A couple of the bochrim I dated-like Shlomo. When they asked me out a second time, I said no. Except for Shlomo, they’ve all left the yeshiva.”

“Who else?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

She stared at him, then asked:

“What are you getting at?”

“Nothing really,” he said mildly. “Just grasping at straws.”

But he had taken on a cop’s demeanor. She found herself relieved that the conversation had turned more business-like.

“No one outside of the yeshiva men ever asked you out?” he asked.

“Well, after Yitzchak died I went back to UCLA to finish my B.A. A couple of grad students and a professor asked me for a date. They didn’t seem broken up by my refusal.”

“How long ago was this?”

“A year, year and a half ago.”

“Do you remember their names?”

“The professor’s name was Dooley. Frank or Fred. I don’t even think he’s in LA anymore.”

“And the students?”

“Blanks.”

“Anyone else?”

She paused.

“Matt Hawthorne asked me out ages ago. But Matt’s harmless.”

“Matt’s the teacher who’s been guarding the place on Friday night?”

“Yes, he and Steve Gilbert. In a pinch they’ve even walked me home at night, so if either had wanted to do something, he’d have had ample opportunity.”

“Not really. Not if he didn’t want you to know his identity.”

“You are grasping at straws.”

“What’d Matt say when you said no?”

“He made a joke out of it. Said he was only teasing, that he’d wanted to take me to a nudie show and watch me blush. But if you knew Matt, you’d know that’s the way he is. A little crude at times, but he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“How long have you known him?”

“About five years. Both he and Steve had been working at the yeshiva when Yitzchak and I arrived.”

“How about Gilbert?”

“What do you mean?”

“He never asked you out?”

She paused for a long time.

“Actually we went out for a drink once. But,” she quickly clarified, “it wasn’t a date. He’s been engaged to the same girl on and off for five years, and this was one of his in-between periods. It was also a year after Yitzchak died, and I was so lonely. But we concentrated on him. He was feeling very low, and I gave him a shoulder to cry on.”

“Never asked you out again?”

“No. As I said, it wasn’t a date. He knows as well as Matt that I only date Jewish men. Besides, Steve loves his fiancée. I’ve met her, and she’s a very nice girl. Both of them have trouble making decisions; they keep setting dates and breaking them. He’s due to get married in about six weeks, and it looks like this time it’s going to go through.”

“What’s he like?”

“Quiet, but not unusually so for a physics type. I was a math-physics major in college, and I knew lots of guys like him.”

“What about your students, Rina? Any of them seem a little off?”

“They’re boys, Peter!”

“They’re the same age as Cory Schmidt.”

“Lehavdil. In answer to your question, no. The kids I teach are terrific.”

“And you know every single one?”

“There are a hundred boys in the yeshiva’s high school. I know close to every single one. They’re fine, normal boys.”

He threw his arms upward, stretched, then opened another bottle of beer.

“You’re probably right.”

But she sensed he wouldn’t leave it at that.

“We’d better be getting back, Peter. I can’t wait until you take the books over to the Rosh Yeshiva. He could tell you a lot more about them than I could, as far as value. Rav Aaron is often asked by galleries to appraise works of Judaica. His study is like a museum.”

“I’d like to see it.”

“He’d show it to you. He’s very proud of his collection.”

“Rina, I want to ask you an off-the-wall question.”