The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(73)

“Maybe back then they thought that was the best course,” suggested Jamison. “Kill your parents, frame you, and you get sent away for life. That’s really the only explanation that works.”

“No it’s not,” disagreed Decker.

“What, then?” asked Jamison curiously.

“We’re assuming that whoever framed Melvin and murdered his parents is also the one looking now for what was in the safe deposit box. The fact is, we could be dealing with two different sets of people, with dissimilar goals.”

“Jesus,” said Davenport. “Wasn’t it complicated enough?”

“Apparently not,” acknowledged Decker.

He glanced at Mars. “Who was your mother’s doctor?”

“Her doctor? Why?”

“Well, someone had to diagnose her with terminal brain cancer.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Give it some thought.”

“Do you think the identity of her doctor is really important?” asked Davenport.

“Right now, in this case, there is nothing that isn’t important.”





CHAPTER

40



DECKER SLEPT SOUNDLY until five in the morning. The rain was beating down outside and he rose and stumbled over to the window to look out. Rain, wind, the occasional flare of lightning, and the tagalong boom of thunder. The weather was as miserable as this case, he thought.

He looked down at his feet, surprised for a moment that he could see them. His belly had shrunk sufficiently for that to be the case. It had been a long time…

He sat on the edge of his bed and stretched out his legs. His hamstrings were tight, his lower back tighter still.

Physically, he was what he was.

But mentally?

He closed his eyes and let his perfect memory wander back to the point nearly twenty months ago when he had lost everything he had.

He knew the color would come, piggybacking on this memory like a parasite attached to a big fish.

Blue.

The color blue poured across the memory of finding his family slaughtered. It was like someone had callously thrown a bucket of paint on top of the most treasured possession he had. Or a giant pen had gone wacky and was releasing its ink everywhere.

Had being the operative word.

Molly and Cassie were gone. Nothing he could do to bring them back. He would remember them in perfect detail until he took his last breath. But that was both a blessing and a curse.

He showered, changed into clean clothes, and opened the door to his motel room, which led directly to the outside. He was on the first floor, which had a covered porch running the length of the building. They were all on the first floor, with him at one end, Mars and Jamison in the middle, and Davenport at the far end.

The rain continued to bucket down as Decker leaned against a support post and gazed out into the darkness.

Decker didn’t like deceit. He didn’t like lies. He didn’t like bad acts with no consequences. People did wrong, that was a given. And that was their choice. And they needed to suffer the repercussions of those bad choices.

He checked his watch. It was a little after six. The sun was still making its way from the other side of the world. And even when it did rise it would be hidden behind the thick curtain of storm clouds. There was a coffee shop attached to the motel. He could reach it under cover of the roof overhang.

It took him two minutes. Three people were already there having breakfast. A tired-looking waitress was pouring out coffee. She swept her arm around the small dining room when she saw Decker come in.

He apparently had his pick of unoccupied tables. He chose one as far away from the other people as possible. He sat, picked up a menu, and ran his gaze down it. Heart attack city, all of it. Cholesterol mania with every bite.

When she came around he ordered coffee, a glass of orange juice, and toast.

“Do you have egg whites?” he asked.

When she stared back at him blankly he said, “Maybe a fruit cup?”

She eyed his ample form and a sympathetic smile appeared on her face. “Sure, hon, coming up. All healthy stuff, I’ll see to it.”

She walked off.

A minute later she brought the coffee. He took a sip. Nice and hot, and it warmed his bones as the rain lashed the windows outside.

He settled back in his chair, half closed his eyes, and focused.

Point One: Roy and Lucinda Mars had a secret life dating from before their son was born. They had changed their names and moved here to get away from whatever that life had been. The scar on Roy Mars’s face might be from plastic surgery.

Point Two: They were seen on a national sports program some time before they were killed.

Point Three: Roy Mars had emptied a safe deposit box right before his death. The contents of that box and its current whereabouts were unknown.

Point Four: Lucinda Mars had terminal cancer.

Point Five: They were murdered and their son framed for the crimes.

Point Six: Mars had been scheduled to be executed but was saved by the confession of Charles Montgomery.

Point Seven: Mars was released from prison.

Point Eight: Charles Montgomery was executed.

Point Nine: Charles Montgomery had almost certainly lied.

Point Ten: Regina Montgomery had received the monetary fruits of her husband’s confession.

Point Eleven: Regina Montgomery had been murdered, possibly by the man in the Toyota Avalon.