The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(49)

“I can do that. And I will do that.”

“But you work for—”

“I resign,” interrupted Decker.

Bogart took a deep breath.

“Have you really thought this through?”

“I did, though it didn’t take long.”

Bogart looked at the two women. “And what about you?” he asked.

Jamison said firmly, “I’m staying with Decker.”

Bogart’s gaze drifted to Davenport. “And you?”

Davenport didn’t look nearly as certain, but after giving Decker a sideways glance she said, without looking at Bogart, “I’m staying too.”

Bogart nodded slowly. “Seems like my team and project are out of business.”

“We’re sorry, Agent Bogart,” said Jamison.

Bogart actually smiled. “You may be. But he’s not,” he added, looking at Decker.

“It’s nothing personal,” said Decker. “But Charles Montgomery did not kill Roy and Lucinda Mars. I’m going to find out who did.”

“I wish you luck. And I wish I could stay and help you do it. But unlike you, I don’t have that option.”

He turned and left.

Mars quickly looked at Decker. “Hey, man, you don’t have to do this. I don’t want y’all to lose your job over me.”

“Right now my job is to find out what happened to your parents, Melvin,” said Decker. “Whether it’s under the auspices of the FBI or not doesn’t matter a damn to me.”

“But the dude is your friend.”

“And Agent Bogart is still my friend. And he’ll be perfectly fine. He’s obeying orders.”

“But they might not let you back in working with him after this is over.”

Decker glanced at Jamison before turning to Mars. “That’s our problem, Melvin, not yours.”

Davenport said, “What do we do now?”

Decker answered, “Since we’re no longer with the FBI, the police don’t have to cooperate with us.”

“That will make it a lot harder,” pointed out Davenport.

“Which is why we won’t tell the police that that’s the case,” continued Decker.

“Lie to the police?” exclaimed Davenport. “Look, I know I agreed to stay, but I’m not getting in trouble over this.”

“We aren’t going to lie. We aren’t going to say anything about it. We’re just going to continue on with the investigation as if nothing happened. If the police think we’re still working with the FBI, that’s their mistake.”

“But Decker,” said Davenport. “Surely Bogart is going to inform them that the FBI is leaving the field.”

Decker cast a glance in the direction of Bogart, who was waiting at the elevator bank and casting furtive looks in their direction.

“No, I don’t think he will.”

Jamison said, “Okay, to take up Lisa’s point, now what do we do?”

Decker turned his attention to her. “Catch a killer.”

“But how?”

“We have clues, we just need to run them down.”

“What clues?” said Davenport.

“A blown-up house. A four-door tan Toyota Avalon. And whatever the neighbors can tell us about the person or persons in that duplex. And we trace back the money that went to Regina.”

Mars said, “You really think that’ll provide answers?”

Decker stood. “What’s the key to winning on the football field?”

“Preparation,” said Mars automatically.

“That’s right. Well, in the investigation field preparation means looking at all the little details in the hopes that they deliver up the big answers. And in my experience, when you look for criminals, you have to dig deep in the shit. Because that’s where they live. Let’s go.”

He strode out of the room.

Mars looked at Jamison. “Damn, he really is always like that.”





CHAPTER

26



HEAVY RAINS OVER the last several hours had turned the site of the duplex explosion into a quagmire.

Wearing slickers and boots, Decker, Jamison, and Davenport walked the site looking for clues and talking to the local cops. Because he was not with the FBI or the local police, Mars could only watch from the rental in which they had driven over.

“We couldn’t find any evidence of an accelerant or a timer or bomb materials, Agent Decker,” said the cop who had been leading them around the site.

Decker did not correct the man about his “agent” status. And his FBI creds were prominently clipped to the outside of his slicker for all to see, the same for Jamison and Davenport.

Decker surveyed the debris field. “Do you think you still might turn something up?”

“Usually by this time we would have. We’re not inexperienced with explosions down here. People like to blow shit up, so we know what to look for. And we know the explosion patterns we typically see if a man-made device was used. Right now all things point to it being an accident. The duplex was really old and in bad shape. And I have to imagine the pipes and valves coming from the underground propane tank weren’t in pristine condition. We’ve had these things blow before. It just happens.”