Дэвид Балдаччи - The Fallen

“Maybe he’s trying to avoid infections.”

“You mostly get that if you’re sharing needles with someone else.”

After a thorough search they turned up a few more items: a bottle of antiseptic wipes, two cell phones, a list of phone numbers written out on paper. And, cleverly hidden behind a cut-out panel under the sink where the pipes went into the wall, they found the pot of gold.

Or drugs, rather.

Fifty baggies of powdered coke, twenty vials of liquid heroin, and ten rocks of crack, along with a roll of cash rubber-banded together, and a loaded Sig Sauer nine-millimeter with the serial numbers filed off.

“Decker, this guy’s not a user. He’s a dealer.”

Decker didn’t answer because he was staring at something on the floor.

Jamison looked at the spot. “It’s a narrow line in the dust,” she said. “Like something was dragged over it.”

Decker got down on his knees to examine the mark more closely.

He stood and looked at Jamison. “What do you want to bet the person staying here won’t be coming back?”

“What do you mean?”

“That mark isn’t from something being dragged over the floor. It’s from a bike tire. I think we just found Michael Swanson’s final place of residence.”

They had taken photos of what they had discovered in the potting shed and then put everything back. Since they had no warrant, anything they found would not be admissible in court if it ever came to that.

They drove off and wound their way back down the hill to Baronville.

“Do we tell Green and Lassiter what we found?” asked Jamison as she steered the vehicle.

Decker shook his head. “No, they’d be pissed about what we did, and there’s no need to fight that battle right now. And we have no idea if that stuff really belongs to Swanson. It’s just a hunch. But his old landlord did say he rode a bike.”

“Long ride up here and back.”

“Hey, if it’s the only wheels you have?”

“So where does that lead us?”

“To the possibility that John Baron is lying to us. He says he didn’t know Costa; I’m convinced he did.”

“Come on, Decker, lots of businesses sponsor Little League teams. You can’t expect a bank bigwig to know all the coaches.”

“Granted. But I wouldn’t expect a bigwig to keep a photo of the team at his house either. And it’s not like Baronville National Bank is Goldman Sachs or Citibank. Everybody probably knows everybody else. And if that stuff does or did belong to Swanson, then that means that Baron possibly knew two of the four victims. And Costa’s secretary said the bank holds the mortgage on this place. For all we know, Costa is the point of contact for Baron.”

“We could ask for alibis from him.”

Decker shook his head. “I don’t want to go there with him, not yet. He’s cagey. And he apparently is alone a lot of the time, so what sort of alibi could he reasonably provide for two sets of murders?”

Jamison glanced at the truck’s clock. “Oh no, we’re going to be late.”

Decker glanced at her. “For what?”

“Zoe’s birthday dinner.”

“Do we have to go?”

She looked at him, dumbstruck. “ I’m the one who’s taking them to dinner, Decker. It’s at the nicest restaurant in town. You knew about this. It’s one of the reasons we’re visiting them now. To celebrate Zoe’s sixth birthday. I have her presents in the back of the truck at least, so we don’t have to go back to the house.”

“But we’re in the middle of an investigation.”

“And we’ve been working on it all day. And we have to eat. So we’re going to the dinner.”

“But—”

“No buts, Decker. We’re going!”

“Alex—”

Jamison made a slashing motion with her free hand. “Not another word. She’s my niece and I love her more than anything.”

Decker sighed and slumped back against his seat.

The restaurant was half full. When Jamison had said this was the best restaurant in Baronville, Decker hadn’t known what to expect. But it was comfortably furnished and sparkling clean. The wait staff wore white shirts and black bow ties, the napkins were linen, and the menu had some dishes Decker had never heard of but that sounded tantalizing.

Amber and Zoe were in dresses, and even Decker could tell that Amber had taken time with her makeup and her and her daughter’s hair. This was apparently a big deal. Decker’s mind took him back to his own daughter’s birthdays. They were big deals.

He glanced at Jamison, who gazed adoringly at her niece.

“Did you have a good day at school, Zoe?” she asked.

“It was okay.”

Amber said, “It’s always tough starting in a new school. But you’ll make friends, Zoe. You always do.”

“Yeah,” said Zoe, staring dejectedly at the tabletop.

Decker studied her. There was something in his head he wanted to say, but for some reason he couldn’t make it come out. Then it occurred to him that he had superimposed his dead daughter’s face over Zoe’s. He looked away, rubbing at his temples.

Okay, Decker, that is definitely not healthy.

“Where’s Frank?” asked Jamison.

Her sister made a face. “Work. Something came up. He should be here soon, though.”

“Sounds like a tough job,” said Decker.

“Well, at least it’s a good-paying job,” said Amber. “And one that’s not backbreaking. Even though we already did some renovations on it, once Frank gets established here, we’re thinking about selling our current house and buying a larger place. There are some beautiful old homes here sitting empty. They just need some TLC.”

Zoe looked at her mother in a betrayed fashion. “Does that mean we’ll have to move again?”

Amber looked nervous. “It won’t be for a while, sweetie.”

Despite this assurance, Zoe slumped back in her seat looking sad.

Noting this, Jamison said, “How about you open your presents now, Zoe?” She pulled two boxes from her bag and set them in front of her niece.

Amber said, “Alex, you didn’t have to do that. You’re paying for dinner already.”

“A birthday means presents,” said Jamison firmly, her gaze on Zoe.

Zoe immediately brightened. “Which one should I open first?”

“I think the one on the right. The smaller one.”

Zoe very carefully unwrapped the paper. Revealed was a small wooden box. She gripped the lid and glanced up at Jamison, who nodded encouragingly.

Zoe opened the box. Inside was a necklace with a cross on the end.

“Wow.” Zoe slowly took it out.

“Want to know something neat about that necklace?” said Jamison. Zoe nodded as her mother helped her put the necklace on.

“It was given to me by my aunt when I turned six, just like you.”

“This... this was yours?”

Amber said, “I thought I recognized it.”

“But, Aunt Alex, I can’t take your necklace.”

“Yes you can. Because it’s not really my necklace. It’s been passed down in our family for seven generations. So now it’s your turn to wear it. And when you get older, it’ll be your responsibility to pass it on to someone you love too.”

Zoe looked up at her aunt with a face full of adoration. “That is so awesome.”

“That is awesome,” interjected Decker as he glanced at his partner.

“Thank you,” said Jamison, beaming. “Okay, open the other one.”

Zoe unwrapped the other present, revealing a book.

“ Charlotte’s Web ,” exclaimed Zoe. “Mom read this to me.”

“Look inside,” said Jamison.

Zoe opened the book and her jaw dropped. “It’s... it’s signed.”