Redemption (Amos Decker #5)(10)

“What was the episode about?”

“Lots of political skullduggery. And some pretty intense sex.” She added sarcastically, “Want me to describe it in graphic detail for you?”

“And then?” said Decker.

“I finished watching that. Then I took a shower and called it a night. I woke up when the police knocked on my door. Pounded, more precisely,” she added, frowning.

“You drive a dark green Honda Civic?” said Lancaster.

“Yes. It’s the only car I have.”

“And you live on Primrose, on the north side?”

“Yes. I have for about five years now.”

“You have neighbors?”

“On both sides of me and across the street.” She sat up. “One of them might be able to tell you that I was home last night. Or at least that I didn’t leave once I got there.”

“We’ll check that out,” said Lancaster. “Did you know Meryl Hawkins was back in town?”

“I had no idea. What, do you think he’d knock on my door and ask for a handout? I thought he was in prison for life. And I still don’t know why he wasn’t.”

“He was terminal with cancer, so they cut him loose.”

“Well, that seems shitty,” said Richards. “Don’t get me wrong, I hated the asshole. But they just kicked him to the curb because he was dying?”

“Apparently so. And he never tried to contact you?”

“Never. If he had, I might have tried to kill him. But he didn’t and so I didn’t.”

Decker said, “You opened a florist shop, didn’t you? With the proceeds from your husband’s insurance policy? I remember seeing it. Over on Ash Place?”

She eyed him warily. “I buried my family with a chunk of the insurance money. And then I went on living. I’m not sure how.”

“And the florist shop?” persisted Decker.

“There wasn’t that much left after the funeral expenses. But, yes, I opened a florist shop. I’ve always loved gardening and flowers. It did okay. Provided a decent living. Even did some holiday events for the police department. I sold it a few years back. Now I run the place for the new owners. When my Social Security kicks in, I’m going to retire and just work on my own garden.”

Lancaster looked at Decker. “Anything else?”

He shook his head.

“How was he killed?” asked Richards.

“We’re holding that back for now,” said Lancaster.

“Am I free to go?”

“Yes.”

She rose and looked at the pair. “I didn’t kill him,” she said quietly. “Years ago, I probably would have, no problem. But I guess time does help to heal you.”

She walked out.

Lancaster looked at him. “You believe her?”

“I don’t disbelieve her.”

“There were no usable prints or other trace in Hawkins’s room.”

“I didn’t expect there would be.”

“So what now?”

“We do what we always did. We keep digging.”

Lancaster checked her watch. “Well, right now I’ve got to get home and get some sleep or I’m going to keel over. I’ll give you a call later. You should get some sleep too.”

He rose and followed her out of the room.

Outside, Lancaster said, “I can drop you off where you’re staying.”

“I’d rather walk, thanks. It’s not that far.”

She smiled. “Nice to be working with you again.”

“You might not think that much longer.”

“I’ve gotten used to your ways.”

“So you say.”

He turned and walked off into the breaking dawn.





Chapter 6



A GENTLE RAIN KICKED IN as Decker trudged along the pavement.

It felt very odd to once more be investigating a crime in his hometown. The last time had involved the murder of his family. This one was different, but it still affected Decker personally.

If I was part of convicting an innocent man?

He looked around as he walked. He had decided not to come back for Cassie’s birthday, or their wedding anniversary. That simply would have been too much for him to handle. Yet he would keep returning for their daughter’s birthday. He had to be here for that milestone, though each visit was emotionally crippling for him.

His long feet carried him past where he was staying, and after a few miles he reached the long-established neighborhood. It was light now. He stopped walking and stood on the corner staring up at the place he used to call home.

The last time he’d been here was two years ago. It looked remarkably unchanged, as though time had stood still since his last visit. Although there were two unfamiliar cars in the driveway, a Ford pickup and a Nissan Sentra.

As he stood there, a man in his early thirties and a girl around seven came out of the side door. The girl was carrying a school backpack and the man was dressed in khakis and a white collared shirt with a windbreaker over it. He carried a slim briefcase in one hand. The girl yawned and rubbed her eyes.

They climbed into the pickup truck and backed out of the driveway. That’s when the man spotted Decker standing there watching the house.