The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(21)

Decker added, “We’re here to try to figure out the truth.”

Mars sat back against the pillow. “The truth? After all this time? I wish you luck.”

“Luck may set you free,” noted Decker.

“Do I have to go back to that prison?” asked Mars.

Decker shook his head. “After what happened, we’re moving you to another place.”

“Where?”

“Federal custody.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means we’re accepting responsibility for you. You’ll have two Feds standing guard over you while you rehab here. After that, you’re in our custody until the outcome of your case is determined.”

“And the state of Texas is okay with that?”

“The state of Texas has its own problems,” said Oliver. “Namely, you can sue them for what happened to you.”

“Are you serious?”

“A conspiracy headed up by one of their guards nearly resulted in your murder. And then they almost beat you to death. So you have a plausible civil claim against them. And a criminal one against the guard and anyone else from the prison involved.”

Decker said, “I wish you luck with that. But that’s not why I’m here.” He looked at Mars. “I’m here about the murders of your parents.”

Mars swiveled his head to stare at Decker. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“You got paper and pen, ’cause it’s a lot of stuff.”

“I have a good memory,” said Decker. “I don’t forget much.”

The door to the room opened and Jamison came in. She had apparently heard what Decker had said. She held up a recorder.

She said, “But my memory’s not as good, so I always use this.”

“Alex Jamison, Melvin Mars,” said Decker. “She’s also part of the team.”

They shook hands.

Jamison said, “My colleague really wanted to take on this case, Mr. Mars. It’s the only reason we’re here.”

“Yeah, that’s what he told me,” said Mars, staring dead at Decker.

“Tell me about the night your parents were killed,” said Decker as Jamison turned on her recorder.

“If you’re up to it,” said Oliver quickly, placing a protective hand on Mars’s shoulder. “You took a real beating.”

Mars said, “I’m good. You want me to start at the beginning?”

“Yes.”

And Mars did. He talked for well over an hour. Decker frequently interrupted to ask a question or to clarify a point. When Mars was done, Decker said nothing for a few moments.

“You were visiting a friend that night?”

“Yeah, like I said. Ellen Tanner.”

“Where and when did you meet Ellen Tanner?” asked Decker.

Mars frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Right now, everything has to do with everything else,” said Decker matter-of-factly.

Mars drew a long breath, licked his swollen lips, and said, “I met Ellen at a university alumni event the team attended. This was like a few weeks before. She was a big football fan. Good-looking woman. Fun. Smart. We hit it off. We saw each other a lot, actually. And we made plans to see each other that night.”

“And you drove there?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you do while you were there?”

“We had a couple of beers. She had some pot but I said no. That could blow my chance to play in the NFL.”

“Did you two sleep together?”

“She testified that we did.”

“What do you remember?” asked Jamison.

“We had sex, so what?”

“And then you left?”

“Yeah. I had a practice session with my trainer the next morning and wanted to get home and hit the sack. Then my car conked out. So I pulled into the motel and spent the night there.”

Decker said, “The thing is, the timeline provided by Tanner and the motel clerk does not coincide with your story.”

Mars rubbed his eyes. “I know. I heard them testify. All I can tell you is what I know. And I know when I left Ellen’s place. And I know when I checked into the motel.”

Decker sat back. “Your credit card was used at a time that backs up the motel clerk’s account, not yours.”

“You don’t think I know that?” barked Mars.

“I’m just trying to make sense of what on the surface does not make sense. And the last thing we need is for you to lie to us.”

Mars suddenly jerked against the handcuff trapping him to the bed, but it did not give. Jamison and Oliver had jumped back, but Decker hadn’t moved a muscle.

Mars sat back against the pillow, breathing hard. “I’m not lying.”

“Okay,” replied Decker calmly.

“And maybe you’re not here to help me. Maybe you’re here to make sure I stay in prison the rest of my life. Or get the needle. You might be working with the state of Texas for all I know.”

“Why would he be doing that?” asked Jamison.

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?” snapped Mars. “Maybe they brought you in when this Montgomery dude said he killed my parents. Maybe your job is to mess all this up so I don’t get outta prison.”