She passed homes, stores, and strip malls, barely glancing at the scenery. From what she could gather, it sounded like more cosmetic mischief than actual constructional harm, but maybe that was wishful thinking. The police hadn't described the damage, other than use the word 'vandalize' over and over. Nine in the morning and her stomach was knotted and burning.
Driving to the destination, Rina was a mass of anxiety and apprehension. The tiny house of worship had lots of mettle, and that made the dreadful news even harder to digest. People were always more social when food was served. The constituents often pitched in by delivering a Shabbos sermon or sponsoring an after-prayer kiddush. Because it was a new congregation, its members could only afford a part-time rabbi. She was the synagogue's unofficial caretaker - the buck-stops-here person who called the contractors when a pipe burst or when the roof leaked. The police had phoned Rina because her number was the one left on the shul's answering machine - for emergencies only. Rina's shul, a small rented storefront, had even gone so far as to padlock the Aron Kodesh - the Holy Ark that housed the sacred Torah scrolls. Extra locks were put on the doors of the centers and synagogues. Jews took special precautions to safeguard their people and their institutions. But the monster - who had later in the day committed the atrocious act of murder - had injured several children and had left the entire area with numbing fears that maybe it could happen again. Miraculously, no one had been killed - there. The center had been and still was a refuge for all people, offering everything from toddler day camps to dance movements to exercise classes for the elderly. The Jewish population of L.A.'s West Valley had been rocked by hate crimes in the past, culminating in that hideous ordeal a couple of years ago when a subspecies of human life had gotten off the public bus and had shot up the Jewish Community Center. After discovering the reason behind the contact, Rina wasn't as shocked as she should have been. She listened as the man spoke, and when she heard that it had nothing to do with Peter or the children, she felt a 'thank you, God' wave of instant relief.
Not from Rina's lieutenant husband, but from the police police. #Faye Kellerman - Decker 13 - The Forgotten 1 The call was from the police.
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