The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(34)

“Surprised you remember that in such detail.”

“I lived in that car for about a year.”

“Did you own it?” asked Decker.

Montgomery lifted his gaze to him. “I stole it from somewhere and got plates off a ride in an impoundment lot in Tennessee. Don’t remember where.”

“So you were waiting outside the house?” prompted Decker.

“Right. I pulled surveillance on the place. Again, what the Army taught me. I was able to see in a couple of windows without being seen. It was just the two of them. Him and, I supposed, his wife. I remember she was black, which surprised me him being white.”

“Okay,” said Decker. “What then?”

“I waited until maybe eleven-thirty or a little later.”

“You’re sure about that?” asked Decker.

Montgomery flashed him a surprised look. “Yeah, why?”

“Just trying to confirm. Keep going.”

“So’s I got in through the back door. It wasn’t locked. I had my gun out.”

“What kind of gun?” asked Bogart.

“My service piece, one I tried to pawn.”

Decker nodded. “And then what?”

“They weren’t downstairs. I had seen the lights go out and then the lights go on upstairs. Figured they were going to bed. I snuck up the stairs, but I got messed up on the room they were in. I went into one bedroom but it was empty. Girlie posters on the wall, athletic gear everywhere, so I was guessing it was their kid’s room. I was worried maybe their kid was sleeping in the bed, but it was empty.”

“And that’s when you saw it?” asked Decker, which drew a sharp glance from Jamison and Davenport.

Montgomery licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah. The shotgun was in a rack on the wall. I thought if I was going to do this, I couldn’t use my service piece. They might be able to trace it to me, you know, through ballistics.”

“Not if they didn’t have your gun,” pointed out Bogart.

“Yeah, but they might arrest me and then they’d have my gun,” countered Montgomery.

“Keep going,” said Decker.

“I took the shotgun, found the ammo for it in a little drawer attached to the rack, and loaded it. Then I went into their bedroom. They were in bed asleep, but I got ’em up. They were scared shitless. Dude remembered me. I told him I wanted the money from the till back at the pawnshop. If he did that I’d let ’em live. He said that was impossible because the owner took it every night and put it in the bank’s night deposit slot. That really ticked me off. See, I thought he was the owner, but he was just some little prick clerk. But he had talked big like he owned the damn place. I don’t like people lying to me. Don’t sit well. Bet the sonofabitch never wore the uniform. And he’s looking down on me? Telling me he’s not giving me a handout?” Montgomery shook his head with finality. “Who the hell does he think he is? No way I’m letting that pass. So I blew him away. His wife was screaming. I couldn’t let her live, right? So I shot her too.”

Montgomery stopped abruptly and looked around at Jamison and Davenport.

“What’s wrong?” asked Decker.

“I felt bad about popping the woman, but there was nothing else I could do.” He shrugged. “I’ve killed people. On the battlefield and off. But I never killed no woman before. It was his fault, not hers.”

“And then what did you do?” asked Decker, hiding his disgust at the man’s apportioning of blame for Lucinda Mars’s murder onto her husband.

Milligan was busy writing all this down in his tablet, but he too looked upset at what he was hearing.

“I panicked. I mean, you get the adrenaline rush when you’re doing it. But when it’s done it’s like you’re coming off a crack high. You crash. My first thought was just to run for it. But then I looked down at the bodies and thought of something else. When I had been scoping out the place I peeked in the garage. Saw the gas can. I ran down and got it and poured the gas over them and then set them on fire.”

“But why?” asked Bogart.

“I thought…” He faltered. “I thought maybe if they and the house burned down they might just think it was a fire that killed ’em. And not that nobody had shot ’em.”

“What’d you do with the shotgun?” asked Decker.

“Put it back on the rack.”

“Then you left?”

“Yeah. I jumped in my car and hightailed it out of there.”

“Did you see another vehicle while you were driving away?” asked Decker.

Montgomery shook his head. “I was so screwed up in the head right then I coulda passed a convoy of Army tanks and never even noticed it.”

“Were you wearing gloves?” asked Decker.

“Gloves?”

“When you picked up the shotgun?”

“Oh yeah, I had on gloves. Didn’t want to leave no prints behind. I was in the Army, they were on file.” He paused and looked at Decker. “And that’s…it.”

“Not quite. How’d you find out about Melvin Mars?”

“Oh, that,” said Montgomery offhandedly. “This was just within the last year. I was here in prison. Dude told me about Mars. He said he heard it from a guy over in Texas.”