Дэвид Балдаччи - The Fallen

Her bed was empty.

He scanned the floor, then he heard a moan from somewhere. His gaze darted to the hall. He ran back out and looked in the direction of the bathroom.

“Amber!”

The moan came again.

Decker ran down the hall and opened the bathroom door.

Amber was lying on the floor in her nightclothes.

As Decker knelt down next to her, she stopped breathing and went limp.

Decker started gagging again because the volume of gas in the bathroom was so high. He lifted her up and took her outside. Laying her on the porch, he started to perform CPR.

A few moments later he felt a presence next to him. It was Jamison.

“I’ve called 911,” she whispered, staring at her sister.

She knelt down and, synchronizing with Decker’s pushes on her sister’s chest, started blowing air into Amber’s mouth.

Finally, after about thirty excruciatingly long seconds, Amber’s chest heaved up, air gushed out of her mouth, and she retched.

“Mommy!”

They turned to see Zoe racing out of the house. She dropped to her knees and hugged her mother.

“Mommy!”

Amber slowly put an arm around her daughter’s waist. She tried to sit up but Decker gently pushed her back down.

“No, just lie there. The ambulance is on its way.”

It arrived a few minutes later and the paramedics put Amber on oxygen and loaded her onto a gurney. Jamison rode in the back with Zoe. Before the ambulance pulled away, a teary Jamison said, “Thank you, Amos.”

“Thanks, Amos,” said Zoe, still anxiously glancing at her mom.

Decker nodded, closed the ambulance doors, and stepped back as a gas company truck pulled up along with a squad car.

Decker told them about the gas leak in the house and the men hurried around to the back to turn off the gas supply.

Decker recognized the police officer who approached as Officer Curry, the one who had responded when Decker had found the dead bodies.

“You okay?” asked Curry. “You look a little green.”

“I’m good.”

“Gas leak, huh?”

Decker looked at him. “Yeah.”

“That’s pretty unusual.”

“Yeah.”

One of the gas men came back around from the rear of the house and walked over to them looking grim.

“What is it?” asked Curry.

“Somebody tampered with the pressure valve going into the house,” said the man, shaking his head. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Yeah,” said Decker. “We are.”

“I wonder who would’ve done that?” said Curry.

“It might be a long list,” replied Decker.

L​ater that day, Decker opened the door to see Alice Martin standing there. Her quad cane was in one hand and she held a pie in the other.

Over her shoulder Decker saw the police cruiser parked at the curb. Lassiter had authorized it after Decker phoned her and told her what had happened.

“I heard,” Martin said tersely. “Is everyone all right?”

Decker nodded. “Amber got checked out at the hospital. They’re keeping her for a bit longer, but she should be home tonight.”

“And Zoe?”

“She’s okay. The gas didn’t get very far into her room for some reason. They cleared the whole house out and checked for gas levels before they let us back in. She’s at the hospital with her mom.”

“Do they know how it happened?”

“Still checking on it.”

Martin turned and glanced at the police cruiser. “I take it that the presence of the police means that it wasn’t an accident?”

Instead of answering, Decker glanced at the pie. “Is that for Amber?”

“It’s for all of you. Lemon meringue.”

She handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll be sure to tell Amber.”

Martin looked around. “This used to be a very nice neighborhood. Now it’s not very nice at all.”

“I can see how you would feel that way.”

“It might be best for all of you to just leave Baronville.”

Decker stared at her without answering.

“Why would you want to stay in a place like this?” she asked.

“I don’t live here. But Amber and her daughter do. Her husband came here for a job. It’s not like they had a choice. And I have no idea if they’ll stay here or move.” He paused. “Why do you stay, Ms. Martin?”

“Because it’s my home and I’m too damn old to move.”

“Like your neighbor, Fred Ross?”

She stared at him. “You live long enough, Mr. Decker, you accept things you never thought you otherwise would.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“For some it’s one or the other.”

“And for you?”

“I hope you all enjoy the pie. I’m very good at lemon meringue. At least I’m still good at something.”

She turned to leave, but then looked back at him.

“This used to be a nice town way back.”

“You mean when the sweatshops were operating and a robber baron was making all the money?”

She smiled. “I guess we all romanticize our pasts, to make them better than they actually were.”

“Maybe we do,” said Decker. “Nostalgia can be very tempting. And nearly as addictive as opioids.”

She said sharply, “You don’t seem very appreciative to someone who just brought you a pie.”

Decker looked taken aback. “I’m sorry. I... I guess getting nearly killed hasn’t put me in the best mood.”

“Well, enjoy the pie,” she replied in a softer tone.

She walked off while Decker stood there watching. At first, he was feeling guilty about having spoken to her so abrasively. But when she left the gravel walk that led up to the house and reached the sidewalk, Decker stiffened.

Clunk, scrape, clunk .

The sounds he’d heard that night.

Her quad cane was striking the pavement, and the broken foot on the cane she had told him about earlier was making those sounds. It was first scraping against the pavement, and then, when she lifted it and brought it down, it clunked against the pavement.

He closed the door and leaned his head against the wood.

Son of a bitch. Baronville. More like Murderville.

He had some things to do and he didn’t have much time to do them.

He went into the kitchen and threw the pie into the trash.

Chapter 64

“So what’s up, Decker?”

Decker was sitting across from Agent Kemper at the Mercury Bar. Cindi Riley was not working tonight. She might be at the jail with Baron, Decker thought.

Kemper’s hair was clipped with a barrette. Her sidearm was on a belt holster and her badge was pinned to her belt.

“Just wanted to check in on a few things.”

“Has everyone recovered from the gas attack?”

“News travels fast, I take it?”

“Lassiter phoned me.”

“She put a patrol out front.”

“Glad to hear that. I take it someone thinks you’re getting too close to things. Like when they tried to blow you and Jamison up in that trailer.”

“Seems so.”

“So, are you getting there? Because I see my case slipping away from me by the minute. I don’t know how much longer I can sit on this.”

“I talked to the hospital where Fred Ross was taken on the day I found the bodies. He called 911 complaining of chest pains.”

“Okay.”

“The hospital checked him out and found absolutely nothing wrong. They released him the next day.”

“Why the interest in Fred Ross?”

“Because the bodies of your two agents were kept on ice before they were transported to the empty house. I think they were taken there in Ross’s van. Which means they were probably kept in a freezer shortly before then. And since Fred Ross lived on the street he might have been nervous about us thinking he knew something, or had seen something that night. His being in the emergency room at the time would provide him both an ironclad alibi and preclude us from asking him for details about that night.”