Long Shadows (Amos Decker, #7)(124)

“You leave my son out of this!” Davidson said warningly.

“I’m not sure that’s possible, Barry. The way I see it, either you killed your wife—or Tyler did. Or you did and he covered up for you. That’s accessory after the fact. That means prison time for him. And he can kiss his college dreams goodbye.”

“Bullshit!” Davidson lunged at Decker, but Decker easily pushed him away. Davidson fell back against his desk.

“I’ll sue your ass off!” bellowed Davidson.

“He was also looking up information on bipolarism. Is that what he thinks you have?”

“My son loves me.”

“Yes, he absolutely does. So are you going to tell us the truth and save him? Or are you going to take your son down with you?”

“What did you mean he was covering up for me?” Davidson said darkly as he slowly got to his feet.

“He washed your clothes that night. They must have still had stains on them even after you laundered them. Then he spilled your drink on purpose, the first time we met you and him. He did that so he could run another load. Probably to get the blood out of the machine and the drains, and all that. Even though you never really can. We’ll be checking that next. Julia Cummins’s blood shows up in one of your drains, Barry, it’s over, for both of you. So what’s it going to be? You, or both of you?”

Davidson snarled, “You son of a bitch. You asshole!”

White put a hand on the butt of her gun and stepped forward. “That is not a solution, Barry. That does not make the problem go away.”

“What do you want from me!” screamed Davidson.

Decker said, “It’s real simple. The truth.”

Davidson slowly sank to the floor, his head in his hands.

Decker sat in a chair and looked down at the man. “You must have been stunned when you walked into Julia’s house and saw the dead guy. And her maybe kneeling next to him. She made up the bullshit about needing a security guard, and then not letting her other gentlemen friends come over to the house. She was afraid of how you might react, wasn’t she? What did you do to make her afraid, Barry? Was it just the stalking, or something else?”

He sat up straighter, leaned back against a desk leg, and wiped at his eyes. “I said some shit. And did some stuff. But she deserved it. She walked out on me when I needed her. Tyler was devastated by the divorce and she didn’t give a shit. She was always on my ass because I just loved life. I wanted to go out and party and feel young. But, no, she was having no part of that. And then what happens? She dumps me and she’s out partying and dressing younger and having the time of her life. All the stuff she said she hated in me! She was a liar. Just a fucking liar.”

“Or maybe she was a single woman approaching middle age who just wanted to have some fun,” said White. “Without you, because she was tired of cleaning up your messes.”

“Go to hell,” barked Davidson.

“Did you go there that night planning to kill her?” asked Decker.

Davidson shook his head. “I didn’t tell you, but I called her that day, from Tyler’s phone. She wouldn’t answer my number. When Tyler told me about his mom needing security I really was concerned. That’s when she told me it was all bullshit. That she was actually screwing the guy. That’s what she said, ‘screwing the guy.’ She basically told me to eat shit and die and then hung up. So I decided to go over that night and find out what was really going on.”

“Did you see the men who killed Draymont?” asked Decker.

Davidson shook his head. “No. When I got there, there was a strange car in the driveway. The rear door was open. I went in, and there they were. At first I thought they were doing it right there on the floor. She barely had any clothes on. Then when I saw the blood I knew something bad had happened. I was going to try and help her. Call the cops. But she saw me, and screamed at me, accused me of killing the guy. Then she said all these horrible things about me, and then it hit me that she had never really loved me at all. Then I just snapped. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and…chased her upstairs. And I…did what I did. Then I put the blindfold on her and I wrote out the words on a piece of paper and left it on her chest.”

“‘The thing speaks for itself’?”

“She used to use that term with me. Every time something got messed up, she blamed me. That tax thing? It was just a misunderstanding. But no, she could never see it that way. Res ipsa fucking loquitor. She always threw that in my face. Oh, something got screwed up? It must be Barry. It fucking speaks for itself.”

“You used the ruse with the voice memo to establish an alibi. You sure you didn’t go there to kill her?” asked White.

“I swear I didn’t. Part of me…a little part of me thought we might, I don’t know, hit it off that night. Maybe get back together.”

Decker and White exchanged glances at the utter absurdity of this comment.

Decker said, “No fingerprints of yours showed up at the house, Barry. No footprints either. There were no prints on the card you left with the legal phrase. No prints on the handkerchief you used to blindfold her. You took the knife you used to kill her, and presumably the pen you used to write the note. For someone in a daze you were pretty damn careful.”

“I…I watch cop shows. I used another of her handkerchiefs so my prints wouldn’t show up. I took that and the knife and pen with me. Later, I threw them all in the ocean.”