Long Shadows (Amos Decker, #7)(56)

“I do.”

“Do you have kids? Do you take care of each other? That can help. I know that from personal experience.”

“I had a daughter. But I lost her, too.”

“Omigod. Was it an accident? With the two of them?”

“It wasn’t an accident. Someone…killed them.”

Decker had no idea why he was telling her this, but for some reason it just felt right. Or necessary. Or something.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” She reached out and gripped his hand. “But let me just say this. You were all together for a time. And that is something you can always hold on to. I…I told you my kids were grown and off living their lives. That wasn’t entirely accurate. Three of them are. But I lost my oldest to cancer when she was barely six years old. I cried for maybe the next ten years. And then I stopped crying.”

“Why?”

“Because I started remembering her when she was alive and healthy over sick and dying. I occasionally lapse.” She held up her drink. “Like with this. But for the most part it’s worked out okay.”

“And you don’t feel guilty for—”

“—for still being alive? Of course I do. But you can either get past that, or you can kill yourself.” She eyed him keenly. “I would not recommend the latter. I mean, I really wouldn’t.”

“You sound like you speak from experience on that, too.”

“I speak from more experience than is good for me. And if you really want to feel guilt, try taking your own life. It’s like you’re spitting all over their graves.”

“Why is that?” asked Decker, looking at her intently.

“Because you’re trying to take something away from yourself that was taken away from them without their consent.”

“I’ve never heard it described that way before.”

“I never thought of it, either, until it hit me right in the heart.”





Chapter 39



BACK AT HIS HOTEL ROOM Decker sat down on the bed and opened the file Kasimira Roe had provided him on her father.

There was a photo of Kanak Roe included. He looked to be about sixty at the time the picture was taken. His face appeared like it was cast in marble with steel accents. A formidable, perhaps indomitable man. He had come to this country with nothing and built an impressive business. To do that you had to be tough and resilient and maybe ruthless, too.

He learned about the man’s stint with the Secret Service, his guarding of multiple presidents. And then, instead of pulling his full time with the Service and locking in his pension, Roe had left and come down to Miami to start the protection business that would eventually become Gamma.

From the file Decker learned that the business had grown rapidly, and Gamma had a long list of impressive clients. And Kasimira had taken it to ever higher levels.

He then turned to the day that Roe had vanished. The man had left his boat slip in Key West for what apparently was planned as a day cruise.

The boat had sleeping quarters belowdecks and a small kitchen. Kasimira had told him that her father normally would go out in the early morning and return well before dusk to his home in Key West. But that day he hadn’t come back.

He did wonder why a terminally ill, and presumably weakened, man would head out by himself to go deep-sea fishing. Decker had never done any deep-sea fishing, but he had watched people do it on TV. It took a helluva lot of strength and stamina to fight some of the big fish and land them. And to do so by yourself was difficult enough even if you were young and healthy.

But maybe, as his daughter had suggested, he just wanted to take the boat out one last time.

He hadn’t been clear on why Kasimira would allow her father to do that, but in a note in the file she had explained that she only found out about her father’s plans the next day, when he didn’t return to the slip. As she had mentioned during their meeting, apparently the only person who knew what he was planning was an old fishing buddy of Kanak’s, who had not been there that day, and thus didn’t know his friend had failed to return.

There was no information on exactly what terminal illness Kanak had, but Decker wasn’t sure it mattered. The man had been given a death sentence, regardless of the cause.

He briefly imagined Roe setting off in his boat and heading out into the open ocean knowing he only had a few months left.

Will I come to that point, sooner than I want to? And what will I think about when the days grow short?

Decker believed he would think about his wife and daughter. About possibly seeing them again, if there really was life after death.

But Kasimira seemed to have been very close to her father, thus Decker deemed it unlikely that the man would leave her in the lurch like that. So had someone else prevented him from coming back from that trip?

He closed the file, sat back on his bed, and picked up his phone. He punched in a number that had been in the file. It was Kanak Roe’s friend, the one he had told about taking the trip. His name was Daniel Garcia. The men had become friends, not over business, but over their love of fishing. It was late enough that he didn’t expect anyone to answer.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Garcia?”

“Yes?”

Decker explained who he was and why he was calling.

“Yes, Kasi told me you might be phoning. How can I help you?”