David Baldacci - The Last Mile

Decker said, “That is good news but let’s not lose focus. Melvin, can you think of any place in the house it could be?”

Mars said, “I can’t think of anything off the top of my head. The house ain’t that big and I never had cause to hide anything.”

“How about in the garage?”

“Well, there was a loose board in the wall next to the door leading from the kitchen. I remember I looked in there once when I was a kid and saw an old coffee can. It didn’t mean anything to me. And I doubt my dad was hiding an old coffee can.”

“Well, it’s worth a look. Melvin and I can go check it out later tonight.”

Bogart said, “Todd can go with you, just in case. I’m expecting to get in some information on Montgomery shortly. Alex, Mary, and I can go over it while you guys are checking out the house.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Mars.

Milligan led the way through the mass of trees and bushes in the front of the property, with Decker and Mars close behind. The rain had stopped, at least for a bit, but the clouds were heavy with moisture and they all expected another dousing at any moment.

They reached the front porch and Milligan eased the door open, his hand on the butt of his gun. Decker was doing likewise.

They entered the front room and looked around. It was dark outside, but darker still in here. Milligan swept his flashlight beam around the space.

Decker led them into the kitchen with his flashlight and then to the door going into the attached single-car garage. He aimed his light around the space, while Milligan did likewise.

“It’s over there,” said Mars, pointing at a section of the wall near the side door leading to the outside. “You can see where the wood is uneven.”

They headed to that spot following Milligan’s flashlight beam.

Decker gripped the board and pulled on it. It came away easily enough. Revealed behind it was a small compartment, really just a space between the wall studs. It was six inches deep and about eighteen inches wide. The “floor” of the compartment was a crossbeam of wood connecting the studs.

It was empty.

“It could have been the hiding place,” pointed out Decker. “It’s probably large enough for whatever was in the safe deposit box.”

“But it’s not here,” said Milligan. “So that doesn’t help us.” He aimed his light around some more and then cast it on the floor. It was clean except for what looked to be fine dust and a small strip of wood. “Probably happened when you pulled the wood out,” he said.

“I checked the floor before I pulled the wood out. That pile of dust and woodchips was already there. And if you look at the board, it has a strip of wood out of it that corresponds to the one on the floor. When I pulled on it, it came out way too easily. Place like this, abandoned for decades with rot and moisture, I’d expected the wood to be far more difficult to get out. I think it was in that state and the wood strip broke off when it was forced out.”

“Which means that someone else was already here,” said Milligan.

Decker nodded. “And recently. Because we searched this place before and I don’t remember seeing the strip of wood. And I would have if it had been there.”

Mars said excitedly, “So you think my old man did hide the stuff in there?”

“I can’t say for sure either way,” replied Decker. “But someone checked it for some reason. Maybe him. Or someone else.” He looked around. “And by the way, the initials of your dad’s real name are A and C.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“It’s carved in the closet and also matches the ones he used when he rented the car in Alabama. Arthur Crandall?”

Milligan tensed and gripped Decker’s arm. “I think someone just entered the house through the back door.”

They all stood stock-still, listening.

“There,” said Milligan.

“That was definitely footsteps,” said Mars.

“Yes,” agreed Decker. He eyed the overhead garage door. “Do we go out that way?”

Milligan said, “I bet that door hasn’t been opened in twenty years. We try to it’ll make a noise like a train going off the rails. Probably the same for the door over there. And we saw earlier that bushes and shit have grown up right in front of those entrances. We’d be tangled up and sitting ducks.”

“But they must know we’re already in the house,” said Mars.

“Not necessarily. Not if they came through the back,” countered Milligan. “And even if they do know we’re here, they may not know we’re in the garage.”

“You don’t think it’s Bogart?” asked Mars.

“He would have called,” said Decker. “He’s not sneaking in here when he knows we’re here. There might be an unpleasant result.”

“Right,” said Milligan.

“Then who is it?” asked Mars.

Decker and Milligan drew their guns at the same time.

“Get behind us, Melvin,” said Decker.

“Hey, I can take care of myself.”

“Not with people with guns, you can’t,” pointed out Milligan.

Decker punched in numbers on his phone. He looked at the screen. “It’s not going through. No bars.”

“Still the middle of nowhere out here,” said Mars. “Even twenty years later.”

Milligan squared his shoulders. “Okay, do we wait here and let them come through the door? Good firing line and we can probably take them out if they make a run at us.”

“That sounds like a good strategy to me,” said Decker. “But we need to split up. I’ll take that corner, Todd, and you can take the other one. That way they’ll have two fields of fire to cover. Melvin, get down on the floor over there by the workbench. It’ll give you some cover.”

“Look, guys, I don’t want you two putting your asses on the line for me.”

“We did that the second we took on this case,” replied Decker. “Now just do what I say, because I hear them coming this way.”

They all took up their positions. In the far corners, on either side of the overhead garage door, Decker and Milligan knelt down and assumed firing positions, their muzzles aimed at the doorway leading into the house. Mars got down on the floor on the far side of the workbench, keeping his eyes peeled on the same doorway.

“Do we wait for them to fire first?” said Milligan.

“On the off chance it’s some kids exploring, I think we have to wait,” said Decker. “I’d call out and identify ourselves, but I really don’t think it’s kids.”

“Me either.”

“If you fire, roll to your left. I’ll fire next and roll to my right, if I can manage it.”

“Roger that.”

The next sound they heard was the door leading into the kitchen slamming shut. Then they heard the lock turn. Then there was the sound of something hard hitting against something else hard.

Decker and Milligan glanced at each other.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” hissed Milligan. “What game are they playing?”

“Hey, guys,” said Mars softly. “Do you smell smoke?”

Decker hit the door leading to the outside and bounced off. He tried the lock. Then he stepped back and fired his gun, shearing the knob off. He tried the door again. It wouldn’t budge.

“I think it’s been jammed or nailed shut,” he cried out.

Milligan was attempting to force the garage door up. “It’s jammed too.”

The smoke was pouring into the garage from the door leading into the kitchen.

Decker and Mars raced over there, coughing and gagging as they did so, Decker’s light stabbing through the smoke and darkness.

Decker put his hand against the door and jerked it away with a groan. “It’s red-hot. The fire must be on the other side of the door. We can’t get out that way.”