False Prophet by Faye Kellerman Page B

about the baby. It had been his idea. Not that Rina hadn’t wanted children. But she would have preferred to wait a couple of years, let everyone get to know one another as a family before adding another member. Even though he was forty-two, she was only thirty and it was maternal age that was the big factor in problem pregnancies.
    Rina’s plan would have prevailed if he hadn’t been shot. It had been an odyssey that had led him from coast to coast until he found the missing kid and the psycho who abducted him. Unfortunately, the psycho had a gun. Psychos always have guns.
    After the initial recovery from the gunshot wounds, Decker had been insistent that the baby schedule be pushed ahead. After all, he wasn’t a youngster and both of them had had previous fertility problems with their first spouses. What if it took a long time? What if medical intervention was needed? Why wait, only to discover a problem that could take years to fix? Rina understood his logic and agreed.
    But the truth of the matter was, he’d
needed
this baby. After his brush with the other side, he’d hungered for something life-affirming. What better way to regain a sense of potency than to sire a baby?
    He rolled up the window of the unmarked, shutting out noise as well as air, and turned on the air conditioner. A Freon-scented wind blasted his face.
    Deliriously happy when Rina had told him the news, he had taken the whole squad room out for happy hour and actually gotten drunk. Not seriously plastered, but tipsy enough for Marge to have to drive him home.
    Then reality had come knocking. Another body to feed and clothe and educate, stretching his paycheck that much further. Then there was Rina’s morning sickness and moodiness, and the cold shoulder given to him by his stepsons. Both had been slow to adjust to the idea of an interloper. Lately, things had been better; all those Sundays spent in the park launching model rockets definitely helped. But Sammy and Jake were still wary critters.
    Fair enough. With time, he’d prove them wrong.
    What hurt most of all was the reaction of his nearly adult daughter. Cindy had seemed so independent. She’d spent last summer in Europe, was away at college this year. She rarely wrote, never called. Never stayed on long when
he
phoned. But when they did speak, the conversation had always been friendly and upbeat. She had seemed to adjust well to his marriage to Rina. In fact, Cindy and Rina had always gotten along. Great — better than he could have hoped.
    It shocked him how she had responded to the news — that awful
silence
. Would it have actually hurt her to tell him congratulations when she finally did open up?
    Man oh man, did she know how to
hit
.
    Don’t you think you’re rushing things, Dad?
    It had been his turn to pause.
    Well, if we did rush things, Cindy, we can’t exactly take it back now, can we?
    That’s true
.
    Another silence.
    Well, good luck
.
    Snide tone. As in good luck, you’re gonna need it, pal.
    Cindy, I love you —
    Look, Dad. I’m an adult, not a child. You don’t have to reassure me. I’m well aware of the fact that you will love me no matter how many other children you’ll have. And I’m sure you’ll have lots because Rina’s young. If that’s what you want, I wish you well
.
    Cindy, I’m not reassuring you —
    Yes, you are. Don’t lie about it
.
    Okay, maybe I am. But it’s not as if it’s a horrible thing for a father to say to his daughter
.
    Stony silence.
    Decker sighed.
I’m sorry if I upset you —
    I’m not
upset.
    If I upset you by trying to reassure you
.
    Oh
. Pause.
It’s okay
.
    Would you like me to call you tomorrow?
    Whatever
.
    Then I’ll call you tomorrow
.
    Sure
. She had paused a moment.
How’s your arm, Daddy?
    Don’t worry about me, honey, I’m just fine
.
    Yeah, you’re always fine. I’ll talk to you later
.
    He had called her the next day. And the next and the next, receiving the same frosty attitude each time. Nothing more