The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(107)

“The fat guy has a big brain, then. She wasn’t exactly a slave, but she wasn’t free either. They had plenty of money. She got fed. Had a roof over her head. But…she wasn’t free to go. And they weren’t exactly nice to her.”

“So how did she get away?”

“That’s how we met. I was down there working a job. The folks holding your mom knew the people I worked for. They had car problems. I went there to fix them. They lived in a damn castle, drove Rolls-Royces and Bentleys, never worked a day in their lives. But when I went there I found out about your mom. We had talks. Then we made plans. Then I got her out of there.”

“Did you kill them?”

Roy looked at him. “And would it matter to you if I did?”

Mars looked out the window.

Roy said, “We took the teapot, not to sell. You know we kept it. Your mom just wanted something from them, after all they did to her.”

“How could you have killed her, Dad?”

Roy noticeably winced. He pulled the car off the road, cut the lights, and put it in park.

“You think I woke up one morning and decided to shotgun her in the head? Do you!?”

“What I know is that you planned this meticulously. You killed some guy and made it look like you were dead too. And then you set me up to take the fall. Instead of playing in the NFL, I spent half my life behind bars. I was almost executed.”

“I wasn’t going to let them kill you, Mellow.”

Mars slammed his fists so hard against the dashboard that it dented.

“My damn name is Melvin.”

The only sounds for the next minute were the breathing of the two men.

“Okay, Melvin, everything you just said is true. I killed the dude. Your mom switched his dental records. I killed her. I set the bodies on fire. I got the chick and the motel dude to do what they did. I disabled your car. I framed you. You went to prison because of me.”

“Why? Why did you do that to me?”

“It was the safest place for you. Your mom thought so too.”

“Bullshit!” roared Mars.

In response, Roy pulled out his gun. But instead of pointing it at Mars, he laid it on the seat between them.

“Then pick up this gun, point it at my head, and pull the fuckin’ trigger, Mellow. If you got the balls.”

Mars looked down at the gun, disbelief on his features. Then he slowly reached down, picked it up, and pointed it at his father.

“Shit, you don’t even know how to hold a pistol the right way. It’s not a shotgun. Use your dominant hand to make the pull, the other to brace, even at this distance. Hell, it don’t matter, you can hardly miss from where you’re sitting. But my blood and brains will literally be on your hands.”

Roy calmly looked away and stared out the windshield, aimlessly whistling a tune under his breath.

Mars said, “I think you want me to kill you.”

“Part of me does. Just end it. I’m tired, Melvin. It’s been a long time. None of it good.”

“And the Three Musketeers?”

To this Roy laughed out loud. “Saw you going to talk to McClellan. How is old Roger? He likes dressing up with all those medals on his uniform. After he graduated from Ole Miss he got multiple deferments from ’Nam. Same for Thurman and Danny. Their dads saw to that. They were all way too busy back here killing coloreds to go fight the Vietcong. And the Vietcong fired back. Big, damn difference.”

“Were you in Vietnam?”

“You going to shoot me or not?”

Mars slowly lowered the gun and placed it on the seat between them.

Roy gave him a disdainful look and put the weapon away in his shoulder holster.

Mars said, “You were at the house. You saved us from that fire.”

Roy shrugged.

“Why?”

“Why not.”

“Because you don’t seem to be the sort who really minds people dying very much.”

“That was our house. Your mother’s and mine. They had no right to come there. And I told the fat guy I had your back.”

“That’s why you did all this, right? The ESPN thing?”

Roy shrugged. “You were so famous, Mellow. It was gonna happen one day. Your mother prayed every night that it wouldn’t, but in our hearts we knew those prayers were not going to be answered one day. And then that day came.”

“And did they contact you? Threaten you?”

“Let’s just say that they never let the grass grow under their feet.”

“But didn’t you have plastic surgery? That scar?”

Roy laughed. “I didn’t have two dimes to rub together. That scar was from a fight over a girl.”

“What girl?”

“Your mother. You’re right. I did kill the people who had her. All of them. They deserved it.”

“And Mom still went with you? A killer?”

“You wouldn’t ask that question if you saw what they did to her.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad.”

“I lied. It was hell. She was the family hooker and maid. They even let the guests have a go.”

“Did you kill Regina Montgomery?”

“She was an idiot. All she needed to do was go off into the sunset. But before her husband was even fried she was out buying shit and screwed it all up.”