Redemption (Amos Decker #5)(118)

“What the hell is going on?” barked Natty. “You’re breaking the law pointing your weapon at me.”

“The price of admission to the party is your gun, Natty,” said Decker. “No exceptions.”

Natty slowly pulled his Glock from his shoulder holster and handed it, butt first, over to Decker, who made sure the safety was engaged and then pocketed it.

“I don’t know what the hell you guys are accusing me of,” began Natty.

“Shut up, Blake,” snapped Lancaster. “And follow us.”

Along the way they picked up Captain Miller, who was also looking as stern as Decker had ever seen him.

“Captain?” began a worried-looking Natty.

But Miller held up his hand. “Not now, Natty.”

They walked up one more flight of stairs and headed down the hallway to the end. Decker didn’t knock. He just walked in.

Peter Childress looked up from his massive desk. Behind him on the wall were an array of photos of him with local politicians and at public events, together with a shelf full of citations and awards bestowed upon him over the years.

His brow furrowed as the group walked into his office. “What are you all doing here? Is there a development?”

“Yes, there is,” said Decker. “Would you please stand up?”

“Excuse me?” said Childress.

“You know the drill, Pete,” said Miller. “You have to stand up.”

“What the hell for?”

Lancaster came forward and took out a pair of handcuffs. “Peter Childress, stand up. Now!”

“Where the fuck do you get off—”

Lancaster grabbed him by the suspenders and yanked him out of his chair.

“I’ll have your badge, Lancaster!” he roared.

“I think you got that backwards,” said Decker.

Lancaster roughly cuffed Childress’s hands behind his back. “Peter Childress, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to commit espionage, conspiracy to commit money laundering, and about a hundred other charges, but those will do.”

Childress froze.

Natty stood there staring at his boss, his jaw hanging open.

Childress roared, “You all are going to prison over this shit!”

Decker stood a step forward. “We’ve got the guy who tried to kill Rachel Katz.”

“Tried!” said Childress before catching himself. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“I had them transferred into another room, right after we met there this morning,” said Decker. “They’re safe.”

“Transferred? Nobody asked for my approval on that.”

“Well, there was obviously a good reason for that.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re getting—”

He stopped when Decker started pacing around the room.

Decker counted his steps as he went. “We’re about the same height, you and me, Pete. Same length of stride. Six paces over from the wall to the end of Katz’s bed. Then two paces more to reach her chest.”

Decker glanced at Natty, who was watching him, spellbound. “You remember him pacing like that this morning, Natty?”

The detective slowly nodded.

“He was measuring the distance from the wall to the bed, so he could feed it to the shooter. Otherwise, he’d have been shooting truly blind into that room.”

“Bullshit! Prove it!” roared Childress.

In answer, Decker looked at Bogart.

The FBI agent took out his phone. “We got a warrant to tap your phone.” He held up his phone. “You sent this text out thirty minutes after you left the hospital. It gives out the measurements to target the woman.”

“And your guy was good,” said Decker. “All three shots hit where they were supposed to.”

“I don’t know what ‘guy’ you’re talking about.”

Bogart said, “Well, that’s funny, because the guy we just arrested for the attempted murders had your text on his phone. He’s already talked to us, Childress, and he’s already fingered you. Your ass is cooked.”

“I…I,” stammered Childress.

“But why not target Gardiner?” asked Decker. “Why just Katz?”

Childress shook his head and said nothing.

“Okay, did you tell Eric Tyson where Sally would be, Childress?” asked Decker. “When you arranged for her to be shot? Or did you just have her followed?”

The blood drained from Childress’s face. He stole a glance at a stunned Natty.

“Look, Natty,” began Childress. “It’s…it’s not like that. I…”

“You fuckin’ prick!” screamed Natty. His hand went to his holster, but his gun wasn’t there. He launched himself at Childress and managed to land a shot to the man’s gut, doubling him over, before Decker, who had been slow to respond to the man’s attack for some reason, grabbed him and pulled him away.

“Why?” screamed Natty. “What the hell did Sally ever do to you?”

“He used her, Natty,” said Decker. “Like I suggested to you before. He forced her to impersonate Susan Richards, probably by threatening to tell your wife about your relationship. Then he got scared when he found out Sally was helping me. When she came out of the park with me, he had her shot.”