David Baldacci - The Last Mile

“Age?” asked Decker.

“Not as young as you, not as old as me. Maybe seventy. He was bald, or nearly so. Fringe of white hair. No beard or nothing on his face. A hard face.”

“Fat, thin?”

“Neither. He looked fit enough, sturdy. No big gut or nothing.” She slapped her knee with the palm of her hand. “You see an old person in this country who’s not fat, what’s the first thing you think? Huh? That they got cancer, that’s what. Am I right? Portion control. Always worked for me. In my day dinner plates were what people now call dessert plates. And they wonder why they’re obese. Well, don’t get me going on that .” She again looked at Decker, who though he’d lost over thirty pounds was still considerably overweight. “Oh, excuse me, son. I didn’t mean nothing by that. I’m sure you’re very nice, but you might want to cut back on the carbs.”

Decker ignored this and said, “You said he had a hard face. How close were you when you saw him? You said it was around six in the evening, so it must have been fairly dark by then.”

In answer she pointed to her glasses. “These give me twenty-twenty, so the doctor tells me, if you’re thinking that I’m blind as a bat and can’t see in the day much less at night. And I never had me no cataracts. And he was standing on the front porch and the outside light was on, so I got a good look at him. Oh, and he walked with a little limp.” She thought for a moment. “Seems his right leg was bad.”

“Did you ever see anyone visit him?”

She shook her head. “To tell the truth, I thought he might just be squatting there for a spell. That’s happened before here. People see places like this and just drop anchor and move in. No damn respect for property rights.”

Jamison said anxiously, “Patti, did he see you watching him? Because that could be a real concern.”

In response, Bray pulled from her robe pocket a sleek, compact nine-millimeter Beretta pistol.

“I might look frail and blind, honey, but fact is I can hit anything within ten feet with this baby. Good stopping power. Drops you on the spot, specially if you shoot ’em in the nuts.”

“I bet,” said Decker.

We’ll get a bolo out on the Avalon and this guy,” said the Alabama police officer guarding the crime scene, after Decker had informed him of their conversation with Bray. “It’s a little sketchy, but it’s worth a shot. It’s not like we have a whole lot else to go on.”

Decker wasn’t holding out much hope that the guy was even still in the state of Alabama. Even if he had been around when Regina Montgomery’s duplex had blown up, he had a big head start.

He rejoined Davenport, Mars, and Jamison in the SUV that Bogart had rented previously. “There’s no more we can do here,” he said. “Let’s head back to the hotel.”

On the drive there Mars said, “Tell me about her son, Tommy?”

“He goes to the local high school. He’ll be a senior next year. He’s already got some college offers. He’s a running back, like you were.”

“And what happens to him when all this is said and done?”

Decker said, “If he has relatives somewhere, he’ll probably go and live with them. Or maybe his football coach will let him stay with him until he graduates.”

Mars nodded and looked out the window where the rain was still beating down and showing no signs of letting up. And the weather was turning chilly.

“Why?” asked Decker, watching Mars curiously.

“No reason. Just... just wanted to know. Tough for a kid, losing your parents.”

“Tough for an adult too,” replied Decker.

At the hotel they found that Bogart had paid for their rooms for a few more days. And that the rental vehicle was good for the same amount of time.

“I hope that doesn’t come back to bite him in the ass,” said Davenport. “He’s taking a big risk by doing that, especially after he was ordered off the case.”

“We were all ordered off the case,” said Jamison.

“It’s a shame that the team didn’t last,” said Davenport. “It could have been really fulfilling.”

“If you go now you can probably still be on the team,” said Decker. “Assuming they’re going to reconstitute it.”

She stared at him. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I want whoever is going to stay to be one hundred percent committed to solving this case.”

“I take it you’re referring to me not wanting to investigate in the pouring rain?” said Davenport sharply.

“I’m referring to exactly what I just said,” replied Decker in an even tone.

Davenport looked ready to fire a response back, but then her expression changed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked nervously down at her hands. “I just can’t get that execution out of my head. It changed... a lot for me. Made me unsure if I really wanted to do this.”

Jamison put a hand on her shoulder. “I can understand that, Lisa. I chickened out and didn’t even go.”

Davenport gave a hollow laugh. “I wish I had been as smart as you and done the same.” She looked over at Decker. “I guess you think I’m kind of a wimp.”

Decker shook his head. “I know a lot of so-called tough guys who would never have gone to see it in the first place.”

“But I lost my nerve.”

“I wouldn’t beat yourself up over it. We need your talents to solve this thing.”

Davenport glanced at Jamison, who gave her a supportive smile and then looked back at Decker. “I appreciate that. And I will give you everything I have. So what’s our next step?”

“We need to get some traction on at least one lead. Either here or in Texas. The fact that Regina was killed shows that we’re on the right track. She was paid off to have her husband lie and say he killed Melvin’s parents. That tells us that twenty years later there are people out there connected in some way to the original crime. Including, perhaps, the real killer.”

Mars stirred. “But I can’t wrap my head around why someone would go to all this trouble to save me all these years later.”

“That might speak to the motivation,” said Decker.

Davenport nodded in agreement. “That’s actually an important point.” She looked at Mars. “You might have an ally out there that you don’t know about.”

“But how is that possible?” Mars asked. “And why now?”

Decker said, “We have to figure out the timing.”

It was past dinnertime and they were all hungry. They had a quick meal at a restaurant a block over from the hotel. Back at the hotel they said their good nights after Decker admonished each of them to think about the case and come ready the next morning with ideas to pursue.

Decker took the elevator to his room, washed up, and was just about to undress and climb into bed when someone knocked on his door.

He rose and said, “Yeah?”

“Do you have a few minutes, Amos? I’d like to talk.”

It was Davenport.

He debated silently for a few moments.

Obviously sensing his hesitation, she said, “It really won’t take long.”

He opened the door. She stood there with a bottle of beer in each hand.

He eyed them and then looked down at her. “I’m on a diet.”

“Which is why I got light beer. Only ninety calories. After today you probably need the carbs.”

They sat and sipped their beers.

“Well?” asked Decker.

“We got off to a bad start.”

He shrugged. “It’s good.”

“I think being open and honest is the best policy.”

“Okay.”

“So here’s my open and honest statement. I made my decision to join the team only after Bogart told me about you.”

Decker took another drink of his beer, sat back in his chair, and listened to the rain falling outside. “And why was Bogart telling you about me a deciding factor?”