The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(22)

Everyone was silent for a few moments until Decker said, “But can you explain the time discrepancies?”

“If I could I would have twenty damn years ago, so, no, I can’t.”

“Okay,” said Decker. “So you have no explanation? Nothing else for us to look at on that point?”

Mars shot him an angry glance. “Look, if you don’t believe me, then just leave. ’Cause I got no time for bullshit if you don’t want to get me outta prison.”

Decker rose. “Maybe you misunderstood me, Mr. Mars. I didn’t say I believed you were innocent or that I wanted to get you out of prison. I told you I wanted to find the truth. If it turns out that truth means you are guilty, then they can inject you and you can die, because you’ll have deserved it. But in the meantime, we will continue to investigate this case and let it take us where it does. Is that clear enough for you?”

Jamison and Oliver exchanged a nervous glance.

Mars and Decker stared at each other. The former seemed to be trying to figure out the latter. And the latter seemed to have already turned his mind to other matters.

“I think we understand each other, yeah,” said Mars.

But Decker was already walking toward the door.

After he left Mars turned to Jamison.

“Damn, is the dude always like that?”

“Pretty much,” replied Jamison.





CHAPTER

13



DECKER WALKED DOWN the hall, gathering momentum like a wave about to crash onto the beach as he went. He heard Jamison scurrying behind him. Up ahead, standing in the hallway, were Bogart and Davenport.

Milligan was at rented office space about twenty minutes south setting up shop. They were all staying at a local motel, which represented the best lodgings in the area.

Jamison caught up to him. She said, clearly irritated, “I wish you’d stop doing that.”

Decker looked down at her. “Doing what?”

“Just walking out of a room like that.”

“I was finished. So I left.” He paused. “And you bought me quinoa? Seriously? Is that even a food?”

She smirked. “You’re getting so skinny I’m having trouble seeing you sideways.”

“Yeah, like a Mack truck coming right at you.”

They reached the pair and Bogart said, “What’s your take so far?”

Decker shrugged. “Early to say. There’re problems with his statement. We need to see if there are alternative explanations.”

“Well, after two decades the trail is definitely cold.”

Davenport said, “I’m going to be speaking with him later. Then I can report on his psychological status.”

Bogart focused on Decker and Jamison and said, “Not holding you to anything, but do you think he’s lying?”

Jamison looked troubled by the question. “We only just met him. But if you want an answer, then, no, I don’t think he’s lying.”

“Any particular reason?”

“He told Decker if he didn’t believe him to pack up and leave. Not what you’d expect from a guy who could still be executed. A guilty guy would grasp at anything.”

Bogart looked at Decker. “Anything to add?”

“No.”

He turned and walked off down the hall.

Jamison let out a long breath.

Bogart looked amused.

Davenport looked curious. “Where is he going?”

“To dig. He’s going to dig,” answered Bogart. “And if we’re going to keep up, we’ll need to hustle.”

*



They had been settled around the rented office space and staring at paper and laptop screens for some time now.

It was just the men. Jamison and Davenport had stayed behind at the hospital to further interview Mars.

Decker was wearing some of his new clothes. For the last week back at Quantico he had gotten up early and gone to the gym and then the track. He had even jogged a bit and ventured onto the elliptical. And he had eaten only the food Jamison had bought for him. Small meals, she had suggested. Four or five per day.

He was so overweight that even that little stretch of exercise and better eating had resulted in his dropping twenty pounds, mostly liquid.

He was on the third belt notch, after starting on the first. His pants were very loose on him.

And he was still morbidly obese.

Milligan eyed him and said grudgingly, “You’re looking better, Decker.”

“Yeah, but don’t run into me on the track. I don’t want to hurt you because I’m still a blob.”

The comment drew a rare smile from the FBI agent. “Hey, you’re making an effort. Good for you.”

“Okay, let’s talk about preliminary investigative possibilities,” said Bogart.

Milligan said, “Ellen Tanner is no longer in the area. No record of where she went, nobody who knew her. We checked at UT. She didn’t go there. And with twenty years gone by it’s going to be pretty much impossible to track her down. She might have married and changed her name.”

“And the motel clerk, what was his name again?” asked Bogart.

“Willis Simone. And we did track him down. He died of a heart attack in 2001 in Florida.”

“Any connection you can see between Tanner and Simone?” asked Bogart.