The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(16)

Jamison had helped coordinate the colors and accessories and commented on all the pieces that Decker tried on. As he stood in front of the tri-mirror he had said, “I look like a whale in a two-piece suit.”

“It’s nothing you can’t work on. There’s a gym a two-minute walk from where you’re staying. And a track right next to it.”

When he came out of the dressing room in his old duds she held up a stack of workout clothes she had gathered for him, along with size fourteen tennis shoes. “Does quadrupleX work for you?” she asked.

“If they stretch enough, yeah.”

She drove Decker back to his place and helped him carry in the packages.

“I appreciate the help,” he said.

“I appreciate your giving me the opportunity.”

“What, to be my personal shopper?”

“No, to have this shot with the FBI. Bogart never would’ve extended the invitation just to me. He let me tag along so you’d come too.”

“Give yourself some credit.”

“Oh, I plan to work my ass off proving myself. But you got me in the door.”

“You really think this will work out?”

“Who knows? That’s part of the excitement.”

“I’m not sure I need any more excitement in my life.”

“Then I think you came to the wrong place.”





CHAPTER

10



SIX A.M.

Decker blinked awake and sat up in his bed. He looked around, for a few moments unsure of where he was.

Virginia.

Quantico.

The FBI gig.

Right. He got up and padded to the bathroom.

After that he walked into the kitchen and looked out the window. It was still well dark.

He slid out the coffeepot with the intent to make and drink a pot while he went over case notes. Then he looked down at his massive gut and the slight wheezing apparently caused by merely getting out of bed and taking a leak, and sighed.

“Shit,” he muttered.

He went back into his bedroom and pulled out the exercise clothes Jamison had bought for him. He put them on—thankful they had some give—and then bent down and tugged on his tennis shoes, which were each about the size of a newborn.

He walked outside and down the steps of the apartment complex where he was staying. He looked left and saw the gym that Jamison was referring to. The lights were on and he could hear sounds coming from within.

Of course. Type A’s are already at it. And this place is full of Type A’s.

He trudged slowly to the building and went in. He’d remembered to bring his ID. The young attendant at the front desk gave him a towel and a locker key. He returned the latter but kept the towel.

“You look like you could squat an Abrams,” said the young man, eyeing Decker’s enormous girth.

“I do, every time I stand,” replied Decker with another sigh tacked on as he took in the large exercise area where amazingly fit people of both genders were grinding it out with enviable ease.

Decker found one corner, put down his towel, looked in the mirror once, and decided not to do so again. He did a little cardiovascular warm-up before stretching and found himself winded. He pushed on and performed his stretching. His years of doing this as a football player had made him more supple than he looked. But he was still pretty stiff right now. Places in his spine he hadn’t felt in a long time started talking to him. But he was beginning to warm up.

A young woman walked by. She had an FBI ID badge clipped to her Lycra shorts. She was pretty and supremely fit, and looked like fat would not dare attach itself to her body. When she saw Decker bend down and touch his toes and then lay his palms flat to the floor she said, “Impressive.”

“Well, then I’d suggest you look away. Because it’s all downhill from here.”

She laughed and moved on.

After limbering up, Decker hit the weights, did what he could until his muscles screamed at him, and then grabbed a medicine ball and did some core. He was really starting to sweat and it actually felt good.

“Okay, I am totally impressed beyond belief.”

He turned to see Jamison standing there in her workout gear.

“You coming or going?” he asked.

“Going. I got here right when it opened. I was in another part of the gym. I was leaving when I saw you.” She smacked him on the arm. “Way to go, Decker.”

He put the medicine ball back and shrugged. “Little by little, right?”

“You want to walk back with me? My place is just a little bit down from where you are.”

“I thought I’d walk around the track and cool down.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you at the office. And Amos, have you checked out your pantry and fridge yet?”

“I noticed there was stuff in there.”

She looked a bit sheepish. “I did your grocery shopping before you got here. Don’t kill me, but it’s mostly healthy stuff. That’s why I brought you that disgusting breakfast sandwich, sort of your last hurrah before going the healthy route.”

“How healthy?” he wanted to know.

She smiled uneasily. “I’ll let you have the pleasure of discovery. I’ll pick you up about a quarter till.”

She walked out.