The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(74)

Point Twelve: Someone wanted what was in that safe deposit box.

Point Thirteen: And that someone might be different from whoever had framed Mars.

Now the questions poured forth, principally among them: Who had paid off Montgomery? If Avalon man, why? To set Mars free so he could be followed and they could use him to locate the safe deposit box contents? If so, it was a very clumsy way of doing it. How could they know that Mars even knew about the contents, much less its whereabouts, now? And why now, twenty years later? Why not back then? For that matter, why not torture the Marses before you killed them and make them tell you where the contents were?

Maybe they were tortured. But took the secret to their graves.

Decker could think of no plausible theory that would reconcile all of those questions.

And this was clearly frustrating the hell out of him.

His memory was perfect, but that did not mean that the answers were always there. If someone told him a lie, he would remember it clearly, not knowing that it was false until he could compare it with other facts that would, hopefully, demonstrate the inconsistency of the statement.

But it wasn’t inconsistency that was his chief enemy here. It was simply not knowing enough.

“You look like your brain is gonna catch fire.”

He looked up to see Mars standing there.

Decker motioned for him to sit. Mars did.

“Did you give the things I asked about some thought?” Decker asked.

Mars nodded. “Thought about ’em all night. And I got nothing to give you, Decker. I feel…I feel like an idiot. I didn’t even know my own parents. My whole life was wrapped around playing football.” He clearly wanted to say something else, but apparently couldn’t find the words with which to do so. He ended up by just shaking his head.

“Don’t give up on yourself,” advised Decker. “Something still might occur to you.” He glanced at the waitress, who was heading their way with his food.

“You want some coffee or food?” she asked Mars.

“Just coffee.”

The waitress put the toast and a bowl of fruit down in front of Decker. “There you go, hon. Bet you’ll be wearing skinny jeans in no time.”

Mars gave Decker a curious look but made no comment. He ordered his coffee.

After the waitress walked off, Decker took a forkful of the fruit and a bite of the toast.

“So did you think of anything?” Mars asked him.

“I thought of lots of things. Mostly questions to which I have no answers.”

“You know, I did remember one thing.”

“What’s that?” asked Decker quickly.

The waitress appeared again to deposit Mars’s coffee. She left and he said, “The only medical practice in town back then was over on Scotch Boulevard. If my mom talked to a doctor, it would have been there. That’s where they went to the dentist too.”

Decker nodded. “Good. We’ll check that out today.”

“But I still don’t see how that’s going to help us.”

“Investigations are not exact sciences. You plug along until something starts to make sense.”

“I talked to Mary. She’s still pissed about what happened. This is making her even more determined to sue the crap out of Texas.”

“She’s a good friend to you.”

“I thought I was done for when my last lawyer resigned. Then Mary came along and took up the case. We had lots of long talks. She wasn’t just my lawyer. She was, like you said, a friend. And we didn’t just talk about legal stuff. I learned about her family and she asked questions about mine, though it wasn’t like I could tell her much. But she was still interested. Was willing to listen for as long as I wanted her to. She knew how I felt about my mom and dad. She knew I could never have killed them.”

“I’m sure, Melvin.”

Mars glanced around. “You know, I thought Jamison would be here with you.”

“Why?”

“Her room is next to mine. I knocked on the door when I was heading over here to see if she wanted something to eat. Nobody answered.”

“Did you hear her inside?”

“No, nothing. Why?”

“Where else would she be at this time of the morning?” Decker put some dollar bills down on the table and rose.

Mars did too.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” he asked.

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

They hustled outside and down to Jamison’s room. Decker knocked loudly on the door.

“Alex? Alex, are you in there?”

When Decker reached down and pulled his gun, Mars took a step back. “You want me to knock the door in?” he asked Decker.

“What are you two doing?”

They turned to see Jamison walking toward them.

“Where the hell were you?” asked a relieved Decker as he put his gun away.

“They didn’t have any shampoo in the room. So I went to get some at the front desk, and that took forever because I couldn’t find anybody. And then I went into the little gift shop for a bottle of water. Is everything okay?”

“It is now,” said Mars. “We were just worried.”

“Well, I appreciate the—”

She stopped when a woman ran up to them. She was in her sixties, dressed as a maid, and clearly out of breath. “I think there’s something wrong,” she said.