Long Shadows (Amos Decker, #7)(15)

“It’s not that far. Has a nice restaurant.”

“How well do you know Barry Davidson?” asked Decker.

“Look, if you’re trying to get me knocked off this case because of some made-up conflict—” snapped Andrews.

“The only thing I’m trying to do,” cut in Decker, “is solve this case. If you have any helpful information?”

Andrews glanced at White, who said, “We’re not in a competition, Agent Andrews. If the positions were reversed, I’d be irked, too. But we’re following orders, just like you. So let’s just try to get along and nail the sucker who did this.”

Andrews shot Decker a look.

“What she said,” said Decker.

“I don’t know him that well. We’ve played golf together exactly once, and that was a tournament where we were paired up. I’ve had some casual conversations with him over the years, but that’s it.”

“Guy have a good rep in his line of work?”

“Nothing that I’ve ever heard to the contrary. I actually have some friends who are clients. They seem very pleased.”

“And you didn’t know about the tax thing five years ago?”

Andrews looked uncomfortable. “There was some local scuttlebutt about that. But I wasn’t involved.”

“And the kid?”

“He’s a junior in high school, already got some solid college interest for football. I’ve watched him play. He’s really good.”

“Ever in any trouble?”

“Straight as an arrow as far as I know. I’m friends with several of the local cops. They never mentioned anything involving him. I think Tyler knows he has a shot at the big time and doesn’t want to screw it up. He’s an Honor Roll student.”

“You seem to know a lot about him,” said White.

“He’s sort of a local sports hero. He’s nationally ranked at his position. And he won the state heavyweight wrestling title as a sophomore. Now he concentrates on football.”

“Sounds like a real stud,” said Decker.

White said, “Decker played at Ohio State, and then for the Cleveland Browns. But I’m not going to hold that against him.”

Andrews looked up at the huge Decker. “Is that right? The Cleveland Browns? And then you became a cop? Odd career trajectory.”

Decker glanced at White. “And getting odder by the minute.”





Chapter 10



T?HE DRIVE TOOK THEM PAST picturesque scenery, wide beaches, birds roaming the skies, high-rise condos, and oceanfront estates lurking behind sturdy gates and high walls. And all the way Decker ignored this and just stared out the rear window, seeing only images in his head.

His wife dead, his daughter dead, years and years now in the grave. Just recently, Mary Lancaster departed by her own desperate hand. And the very much alive Alex Jamison and Melvin Mars and Ross Bogart all moving on with their lives.

And here I am with a new partner and…this. Two more murders, the puzzle that always comes along with it, the interviews, the questions, the lies in response, more questions and confrontations and just plain bullshit that both the innocent and guilty continually spew out. And then it gets solved and off I go to the next one.

From Florida to North Dakota and all points in between.

He turned to see White staring at him from the front passenger seat. The woman had seen a slice of life that Decker never would. It had no doubt made her tough, ferocious in defense, but crafty and cagey and knowing she had to play by a set of rules that were biased against her to a degree that should alarm everyone but somehow never really did.

“I’m not sure I have enough in the bank to offer up cash for your thoughts,” she said, tacking on a smile.

Decker looked away. In his mind’s eye he saw Mary Lancaster lift a trembling hand with a gun in it to her mouth, insert the barrel, close her eyes, and end her life in one of the most tragic ways possible.

Then, instead of Lancaster’s face, Decker saw his own countenance. He was staring at a toilet on which sat his daughter. Father and daughter were barely a foot away from each other. One staring helpless, crushed beyond all conceivable human limits, the other staring back at him and seeing nothing because the dead could not. He had taken out his service pistol and laid it in his mouth. The muzzle of the Glock had felt metallically bitter, the barrel oil leaching onto his tongue. He had looked at Molly and then closed his eyes. His finger had slipped to the trigger and it would have only taken a couple foot-pounds of force to propel him into death with his daughter and wife. Such a simple move, one he had done thousands of times on the gun range, and several times while doing his job in the field.

And yet, unlike Mary Lancaster, he had pulled the gun free and waited for the cops to show up.

Had I been too cowardly? Had I lacked the courage that Mary had in abundance? And she left her daughter and husband behind. An option I didn’t have, and one I don’t think I could have taken.

“Decker?”

He broke from his thoughts to see White staring worriedly at him. This annoyed him.

“How much longer?” he brusquely asked Andrews.

“Coming up to the security gate now.”

“Does anybody around here live in a place without a guard gate?” asked Decker. “Is it that fucking dangerous here?”