Long Shadows (Amos Decker, #7)(91)

“He didn’t kill her. He was with me!”

“So no worries there. I’m just wondering if that law was the impetus for a quickie marriage as opposed to some societal extravaganza. But maybe you didn’t want that.” He looked around the posh space. “I mean, you don’t strike me as someone who likes to make a big splash.”

“Look, I won’t deny that I had plans for something here that was going to be pretty fabulous, but Dennis explained things to me. I mean, why pay all that money for what’s basically a big party for everybody else? Instead it’ll just be us and we’ll pamper ourselves, not three hundred guests.”

“Makes perfect sense,” said White. “What every woman wants, right?”

Chase scowled at her and finally said, “Well, this woman does.” She turned to Decker. “And besides, didn’t Barry Davidson kill his ex-wife?”

“He’s been charged with murder, but not that murder,” pointed out White.

“What?” said a confused Chase.

“Did you know that your fiancé wanted to marry Julia Cummins?” said Decker.

“That’s crazy. Who told you that?”

“Someone close to her said the judge broke it off because Langley wanted to tie the knot but she didn’t.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“And you know about the prostitute?” said White.

“The what?”

“Your fiancé was charged with assaulting a prostitute and nearly beating her to death. But the charges were dropped.”

“Because they were untrue! The woman was trying to blackmail Dennis. I remember now, he told me all about it.”

“So he admits being with a prostitute?” asked Decker.

“No…he…he…it was a stupid thing to do. He was drunk.”

“Then did he beat her up in a drunken stupor? Because I’ve seen the photos of her from that night. She was in the hospital for several days.” He took out his phone. “I have the pictures of her if you want to look at them.”

“I don’t!”

“Twenty minutes, liquor store and back, you’re sure?”

“Yes! Now if there’s nothing else, I have a meeting.”

Decker stood. “I wish you a happy marriage.”

“Yeah, sure you do,” she said with a sour expression.

As they walked out White said, “So, what do you think?”

“She’s either telling the truth, or, more likely, the truth she desperately wants to believe, because she’s invested a lot in this guy and doesn’t want the deal to go south.”

“And the quickie marriage?”

“Maybe Langley is cheap when it comes to stuff like that. And I wouldn’t put it past the prick to be marrying her for another reason. But we need to refocus and grab a new angle, or Barry Davidson is going down for this.”

“But what would be Davidson’s motive to kill Draymont and Lancer?”

“Draymont obviously because he was there when Cummins died.”

“And Lancer?” asked White.

“What if she and Draymont were blackmailing Davidson somehow?”

“How?”

Decker said, “Maybe they found out he was spying on Cummins. They were going to expose him if he didn’t pay up. So we need to check his finances again to see if payments went out to any unusual parties that might be connected to Draymont or Lancer.”

“That could be.”

“Yeah, it could. But I don’t think that’s it. I still think there were two unrelated killers.”

With hiked eyebrows she said, “You do have unusual ways of working a case.”

“Oh, you’ve just barely skimmed the surface so far.”





Chapter 67



YOU LOOK TIRED,” DECKER SAID to White as they later sat down to dinner at a restaurant near the hotel.

“I was just on a Zoom call helping Calvin with math. I hate math, I’m no good at it. And it wears me out.”

“Is he good at it?”

“Better than me. And I don’t remember doing the kind of math he is when I was that age.”

“And your daughter?”

“Jacky’s still easy. I’ve got a couple more years before I can’t help with her homework.”

Decker idly stacked his fork on top of his spoon. “My daughter was good with numbers. She could see them line up in her head. Made it easy to do the math problems.”

“That’s cool,” White said quietly, watching him closely.

“She got that from her mom, not me. Cassie was a nurse. She was good at figures and stuff, too.”

“What were you good at?”

“Before I became what I am, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t remember, really. Maybe just football.”

“I thought your memory was infallible.”

“Yeah, well, what’s really infallible? Clearly not people.”

They ate their meals and discussed the case.

“It seems to me that we’re no further along than when we got here,” said White in a frustrated tone. “We’ve got a hodgepodge of clues, all pointing in different directions, one guy under arrest, another guy who might have done it. But with both of them the clues add up one way, but not all the way.”