Long Shadows (Amos Decker, #7)(35)

“They’re fine, but from the sound of you, you’re not fine, Frederica.”

Her mother had resolutely declined to ever call her daughter Freddie.

“Just the case. Issues.”

“All your cases have issues, especially in the beginning. What’s different now?”

“My partner is different.” She went on to explain about Decker, including his brain trauma and personal losses. “He seems disengaged. And if this investigation goes into the toilet, so do I. I didn’t want a transfer. I don’t even know why they picked me to partner with him.”

“You don’t? Really?”

White’s brow crinkled. “What exactly are you saying, Mom?”

“Do you remember what happened to you when Donte was killed?”

“How the hell could I ever forget that?”

“Well, you apparently have. Just think on that. And pray on that. I feel sure you’ll get there in the end.”

“How can you stay so positive with all the shit that’s happened to our family?”

“You think we’re the only family that’s had bad things happen?”

“We’ve had more than our share.”

“I know some folks that have lost all of their children to violence.”

“A racist white cop put a bullet in Daddy’s head because Daddy stood up to him. And he didn’t spend one damn day in prison for it because the department thought it would be really bad for morale, and so they covered it up to look like an accident. Yeah, we got money, but that doesn’t cut it. It didn’t bring Daddy back.”

“Everything you said is exactly right, Frederica. And you will carry that with you for the rest of your life, as I will. But if you let it be what leads your life and defines who you are, then your existence on this earth will not be nearly as positive or productive as it could be.”

“I don’t get you, I really don’t.”

“Just like maybe you don’t get your new partner.”

“If he blows this, my trajectory gets stalled out real fast. My kids are going to college. I need to keep moving up.”

“I got the money for college for your kids.”

“No, that’s your money. That’s Daddy’s money. I don’t want it.”

“You’d be so stubborn over that you’d risk your kids’ not getting ahead?”

“They’re my kids and I’ll get it done for them. Just like you and Daddy did for us. You didn’t have rich relatives help you out. And I’m not going that route, either. You didn’t raise me that way.”

“Just pray on it, Frederica, just pray on it.”

White clicked off and just shook her head. She hadn’t prayed or been to church since Donte had been killed.

And I’m not starting now. Because where was God when Daddy got killed? Where was he when Donte died? Not anywhere near where I fucking live.

An instant later she felt both her pulse and blood pressure rise dramatically.

Shit! She’d started having these panic attacks a while back. It was never to do with work. It was always to do with her kids. And her conversation with her mother had put it all front and center again. She took deep breaths and willed herself to calm.

She’d never talked about this with anyone at work. She didn’t want anyone there to think she couldn’t handle herself, the pressures, no matter where they came from. She had thought about getting help, talking to a counselor, but then decided to try to manage it on her own.

She left her unfinished drink on the counter and went to bed.

And Frederica White didn’t sleep any better than Amos Decker did.





Chapter 25



HE COULDN’T GET THE DAMN image of Lancaster putting the gun in her mouth out of his head. It was like a heartbeat you heard in your eardrum. It just wouldn’t go away and you couldn’t ignore it. Decker tossed and turned in his bed and finally gave up.

He rose, dressed, and headed out. He reached the beach. It was two in the morning. He wasn’t fearful for his personal safety. He was a huge guy and carried a big gun. And anyway, he didn’t give a crap right now.

He walked to the edge of the sand and peered out at the ocean, pounding and whirling and doing its thing, like it always did.

The sky held a scattering of stars, a few smoky wisps of clouds. At the higher altitude he saw the contrails of a jet crossing the Gulf on its way somewhere.

His gaze returned to the earth, and he drew in a deep lungful of salt air.

And he started walking on the sand. It crunched and compacted under his bulk, giving him some purchase. It felt good, for some reason. Loose granules coming together to form something solid. Or was that just wishful thinking from a tired, overwrought mind?

Yeah, that could definitely be the case.

He walked near the water and then plopped down on his butt, pulled his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them.

He and Cassie had taken Molly to Disney World once when she was six. It was the only time he’d been to Florida on something non-football related. The only time other than now.

They’d had fun and emptied their bank account. But it had been worth it. He remembered the character breakfast when Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck and Goofy and their pals had come by. Molly had been terrified at first, hiding behind her father and only peeking out at the costumed characters as they walked past.