David Baldacci - The Last Mile

“Dude have a name?” asked Bogart.

“Donny Crockett,” said Montgomery promptly.

“And where is he now?”

“In a coffin. He was on death row too. They executed him four months ago.”

Bogart and Decker looked at each other while Davenport kept her gaze squarely on Montgomery.

She said, “Why would he mention Melvin Mars to you?”

“Didn’t you know?” said Montgomery with a brief grin. “I played some ball at Ole Miss. I was a fullback. That meant I slammed my body against other bodies all game long so the tailback could look good. Now, I never played against Mars, because I was a lot older, but I heard of him later on. Didn’t connect it to what I done in Texas. But then when my buddy told me the details, I had my wife Google it for me. When I saw the pictures of the parents I knew they were the ones I’d killed.”

“And you decided to come forward why?” asked Decker. “Because God might go easier on you?”

Montgomery shrugged. “Look, I’m going to die anyway. Screwed up my whole life. This dude Mars lost out on a lot because of me. Guess I’m just trying to make amends. Do one good thing before I kick off.” He stopped and gave Decker a searching look. “They are going to let him go, right? He didn’t kill his parents. I did.”

“We’ll see,” said Decker. “It’s the reason we’re here.”

“I told the local cops stuff that I knew about the house and all. Details they didn’t let out to the public. It was me. What else can I say?”

“I think you’ve said a lot,” answered Decker.

Bogart said, “And you never met Melvin Mars?”

Montgomery shook his head. “No sir, I never met the man. If he had been home that night I would’ve killed him too.”

They all fell silent for a few moments. Decker was studying Montgomery closely while Bogart looked down at some notes. Jamison and Davenport were watching Decker.

Decker finally said, “So you eventually remarried?”

Montgomery nodded. “A couple years later. I was already in my fifties, but Regina was twenty years younger. So we had a kid. I tried to settle down and get cleaned up, but it was no good.” He motioned to his head again. “Pains came back. Had ’em all the time at that point. I just went nuts. Did shit. Regina took our son and ran for it. I started robbing banks and selling drugs, murdered a couple dudes I was doing business with. Then I killed a state trooper. That’s why I’m here.”

“Where does your current wife live?” asked Decker.

Montgomery’s eyebrows flicked up at this. “Why?”

“We’ll need to talk to her.”

“Why?” he asked again.

“She’s part of this chain. We have to look at every link.”

Montgomery considered this for a long moment. “She lives about twenty miles from here. Prison has the address. Moved there when I got transferred here.”

“And you’ve been married how long?”

“About eighteen years. Though I’ve been in prison the last nine. Like I said, she left me when I went out of control. Hell, Tommy was just a little boy then. But when I got the death sentence she came to the prison to see me. We never officially got divorced. I guess she felt sorry for me.”

“How many kids do you have?” asked Decker.

“Just Tommy. He lives with his mom but he never comes here. Don’t blame him. Wasn’t there for him, so why should he be there for me? He’s a really good football player from what she tells me.”

“Does she visit you often?” asked Davenport.

Montgomery leveled his gaze on her. “Every week, like clockwork.”

“That’s nice,” said Davenport, drawing a wary look from Montgomery.

“Anyone else ever visit you?” asked Decker.

“I don’t have anybody else.”

“No lawyers or anything?”

“They tried. And failed. And left.”

Decker said, “When is your execution date?”

“Three weeks from yesterday.”

Davenport asked, “Why did you choose the electric chair over lethal injection?”

Everyone looked at her.

Montgomery grinned. “Figure where I’m going I better get used to being hot. And why not go out with a bang?”

“What are your wife’s plans after you’re gone?” Decker asked.

“Start over somewhere else.”

“Right,” said Decker. “We’ll tell her you said hello when we see her.”

“I’m doing the right thing, right?” said Montgomery nervously.

“That’s not for me to answer,” replied Decker. “One more thing. Did you steal any money or property from the Marses?”

Montgomery stared up at him, a wary expression on his features. “No, did the cops say I did?”

“Did you commit any other crimes while you were in town?” asked Decker.

“No. I told you. I killed them and tore outta there.”

“So you didn’t stay around and do a day’s worth of labor or anything?”

Montgomery looked at him like Decker had lost his mind.

“After murdering two people?”

“So, no?”

“Hell no.”

“And how far did you drive after you left town?”

“I don’t know.”

“You remember a city?”

Montgomery thought for a moment. “Maybe Abilene. Yeah, that’s right. I jumped on Interstate 20 and just headed east. Ran smack into Abilene.”

“That was about, what, a hundred and eighty miles? Maybe a three-hour drive?”

“About that, I guess, yeah.”

“Okay, thanks.”

As they started to leave Montgomery called after them. “Can you tell Mr. Mars that I’m sorry?”

Decker looked back at him. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”

They drove directly to Regina Montgomery’s house, which, as Montgomery had said, was only about twenty minutes from the prison.

The skies were threatening rain, and, as the temperature dipped, perhaps even some snow, though it rarely fell in this part of Alabama.

Bogart drove and Decker rode next to him. Davenport was in the backseat writing up some notes on her electronic tablet. Milligan was next to her doing the same thing on his.

Jamison was to Milligan’s left. She said, “That was one scary man.”

“Well, at least the public won’t have to worry about him anymore,” said Bogart.

“Do you think his head injury made him do all those things?” asked Jamison.

“I don’t know,” replied Bogart. “In the eyes of the law it apparently didn’t matter if it did or not.”

“I guess not,” she said doubtfully.

“Lisa, what was your opinion of him?” asked Bogart as he glanced at her in the car’s rearview.

She looked up from her tablet. “My down and dirty is the guy is being truthful. He’s obviously cagey as hell, but he also seems genuinely remorseful. And if he is suffering from PTSD and that head wound affected critical areas of his brain, what he later did could make sense.”

She saw Decker staring out of the side window, obviously not paying attention to what she was saying.

“What did you think, Amos?” she said.

When he said nothing she reached forward and touched his shoulder. He jerked and glanced back at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was asking what you thought of Montgomery?”

“I think it’s more important what we think of Regina Montgomery,” he said.

“And why is that?” she asked, looking confused. “I remember you saying we needed to find out if Montgomery had family.”

“And I hope we’re just about to get some answers.”

Regina Montgomery lived in one of a line of old duplexes that looked about a few rusted nails and a few more termite bites from falling down. They parked out front. There was an old cream-colored Buick with a tattered faux leather top sitting out in a front yard that held not a single blade of grass. The entire area looked blighted. In the distance they could hear a freight train’s whistle.