The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(132)



Bogart withdrew a slip of folded paper from his pocket and slid it across to Mars. Mars looked down at it for a few long seconds.

“You might as well open it, Melvin,” said Decker.

“The suspense is killing me,” added Jamison.

Mars slowly unfolded the paper and stared down at the number written there. Under his breath he counted the zeros.

“Holy shit,” said Decker, who was looking over his shoulder.

Jamison jumped up to look and nearly collapsed to the floor. “Mother of God.”

Mars looked up at Bogart. “I never would have made this much playing in the NFL for twenty years.”

“I have to say that the federal government chipped in quite a bit too. And it’s all tax-free. A good faith gesture from Uncle Sam. So you get to keep it all.”

Decker slapped him on the back. “How does it feel to be stinking rich, Mellow?”

Mars grinned and then started laughing. And he couldn’t stop. They all joined in, and people walking up and down the halls on serious business stopped and stared at the room, wondering what could be so damn funny.

*



A week later Decker drove Mars to the airport in Washington. He was wearing new clothes and had two suitcases full of additional outfits, all brand-new and tailored to his imposing physique.

“I really can’t believe this is happening to me, Decker.”

“Believe it, because when you open your eyes tomorrow it’ll all still be there.”

“I wish you’d take some of the money. Hell, you earned it. I’d still be in prison but for you.”

“Melvin, I suck at money management. I’d probably lose it in a few days.”

“Then I’ll set aside a chunk in an account for you. I’ll invest it. When I was in prison I followed the markets. My degree was in business. I’ll do right by you.”

“Whatever you want to do, you do. And I appreciate it.”

They drove for some minutes in silence as Decker navigated rush-hour traffic.

“So you’re heading back to Texas for a bit, and then what?”

“I know the old house is pretty much burned down, but I wanted to see it one more time.” He paused. “After that I thought I might head to Alabama.”

“Alabama? You mean Tuscaloosa?”

“No. I mean to where the Montgomerys lived.”

Decker looked at him curiously. “Okay. And for what reason?”

“I made some calls. Turns out the Howling Cougars need a running backs coach.”

“Tommy Montgomery’s team?”

Mars nodded. “He lost both his parents. Callahan killed his mother. I sort of feel responsible.”

“But you’re not.”

“But I still want to do it. And I’ve got the money to help Tommy. I’ll set up a trust for him. No reason he should suffer.”

“No reason at all. That’s very nice of you, Melvin.”

“You think I might make a good coach?”

Decker stared at him for a few moments before looking away. He knew Mars simply wanted a little encouragement, that was all. The “old” Decker could have given it with no trouble at all. The words would have just come to him easily. The “new” Decker had to work a lot harder to get there. While his memory had become perfect, much of the rest of his brain, the parts that picked up social cues and emotions and all the little messages that most folks took for granted in understanding, were far from perfect. But when he looked back at Mars a powerful memory took hold of him. It was Melvin Mars, the Longhorns’ star running back, trampling over the Buckeyes’ Decker on his way to yet another glorious touchdown. That gridiron connection made the jumbled words in his head straighten out into a clear line of thought.

He said, “Let me see. One of the greatest college running backs of all time. Heisman finalist. And a guy who would’ve made the NFL Hall of Fame first ballot. I wonder what the hell a high school football team sees in you.”

Mars chuckled embarrassedly. “I knew how to run the ball, Decker. I just don’t know if I can teach other people how to do it.”

“I think Tommy will be in good hands.”

They reached the airport and Decker helped Mars with his bags. The two men faced each other in front of the terminal.

“I guess this is goodbye. At least for now.”

Decker said, “For now. But don’t disappear on me.”

“Come on down to ’Bama and watch the Howling Cougars play. Bring Jamison and Bogart.”

“That’s a deal.”

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment until Mars gave a bear hug to Decker, which he tentatively returned.

Mars said, “I don’t know how I can ever thank you, man. I’ve never had a better friend, not in my whole life.”

“Quite an admission for a Longhorn to make to a Buckeye.”

“You know what I mean.”

Decker didn’t have to hesitate this time. Keeping in his head that memory of their playing against each other he said, “I know what you mean, Melvin. And I feel the same way.”

“You never know, we might hook up sometime. I’m starting to like this investigation stuff.”

“You’re actually good at it.”

“You take care of yourself.” Mars cracked a smile. “And don’t get too skinny.”

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