The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(59)

Mars sighed and gazed out his window. “What were their names?”

“My wife was Cassandra. But I called her Cassie. My daughter was Molly. My brother-in-law’s name was Johnny.”

“And you found ’em dead?”

“Yes.”

“That must’ve been the worst thing could happen to you.”

“I saw them in blue.”

Mars shot him a glance. “Huh? Come again?”

“I have synesthesia.”

“Synes-what?”

“Synesthesia. It’s when your sensory pathways are commingled. I see certain numbers in color, for instance. And I saw my family’s murder in blue. I see death in blue. I also have hyperthymesia.”

“What’s that?”

“A perfect memory.”

“Damn, that’s lucky. Were you born with it?”

“No. I never had it until I played in the NFL.”

Mars looked at him skeptically. “You made it to the NFL? I thought you topped out at college ball.”

“I made it onto the roster of the Cleveland Browns and lasted one regular-season play.”

“One play? What the hell happened?”

“Guy laid me out on the kickoff. I died twice on the field. When I came out of the coma my brain had been changed. I was a different person.”

When Mars said nothing in response, Decker looked over at him to find the man gaping at him.

“That’s how you got that, that hyper thing, a perfect memory?”

Decker nodded.

“Come on, you’re bullshitting me,” Mars blurted out.

Decker shook his head. “Bullshitting is no longer really in my wheelhouse, because along with a perfect memory my personality also changed. You see, the brain controls that too. Or certain areas of the brain do.”

“But what happened to you must be rare.”

“Extraordinarily rare.”

“But doing what you do, an investigator and all, it must come in handy to be able to remember everything.”

“It does. But the rest of the time, not so much.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes.

“Why’d you tell me that?” asked Mars. “I mean, you strike me as being pretty private. And it’s not like we’re good buddies or anything. We barely know each other.”

“I wanted you to know that there is no right or wrong answer for what you’re faced with. I know what I want to do. I want to find out what happened to your parents, and who set you up. But that’s me. You have a different set of circumstances, like you said. Other priorities. But I also want you to know that I’m really good at what I do. I’m not good at anything else, but I am good at this. So if you’ll work with me on this case, there’s a really good chance that we’ll get to the bottom of it eventually.”

Mars appraised him. “You know, I do remember you now. From the game, I mean. You had perfect technique, did everything on the field right. Covered me coming out of the backfield just like the coaches drew it up.”

“But you can’t teach speed, or nimbleness, or the ability to change direction on the fly, or field vision. And you had all of that.”

“It wasn’t a fair fight,” said Mars matter-of-factly. “But I also had the added motivation that this was my only way out. That’s the way it is for lots of guys like me. You had other options.”

“Good thing, because I was not going to be in the NFL for long, hit or no hit.”

“I do want to find out what happened to them. And I know you can help me get there.”

“So that means you’re in?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“One more thing, Melvin.”

“What’s that?”

“Sometimes the truth hurts more than not knowing.”

Mars scowled and said, “Thanks for waiting to tell me that until after I agreed to keep going.”

Mars put his seat back, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.





CHAPTER

32



THEY WERE BACK in Texas.

But they still had over five hundred miles and another eight hours–plus to go.

Everything in Texas was big.

It was dinnertime and they were both starving. And they had to use the restroom.

Decker pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of a huge facility that had a bar-and-grill component as well as a grocery store and a gift shop. The parking lot was pretty full, mostly with oversized pickup trucks sporting gun racks in the back and semis pulling double trailers.

They could hear the music blaring twenty feet from the door to the place.

They went inside, hit the bathroom, and then made their way to an open table near the back and away from the bar and live music. They ordered drinks and their food.

Mars looked around at the men and women, many wearing cowboy hats and boots, line dancing. Off to the right was a pool hall. To the left was a video game arcade.

When the live band took a break they could hear the smack of pool balls and the trash talk of the men playing. Decker noted a group of young men with pool cues in one hand and beers in the other watching them. When he looked away he saw Mars take a sip of his beer and smile.

“What?” asked Decker.