The Last Mile (Amos Decker 2)

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.”

“Dude have a name?” asked Bogart.

“Donny Crockett,” said Montgomery promptly.

“And where is he now?”

“In a coffin. He was on death row too. They executed him four months ago.”

Bogart and Decker looked at each other while Davenport kept her gaze squarely on Montgomery.

She said, “Why would he mention Melvin Mars to you?”

“Didn’t you know?” said Montgomery with a brief grin. “I played some ball at Ole Miss. I was a fullback. That meant I slammed my body against other bodies all game long so the tailback could look good. Now, I never played against Mars, because I was a lot older, but I heard of him later on. Didn’t connect it to what I done in Texas. But then when my buddy told me the details, I had my wife Google it for me. When I saw the pictures of the parents I knew they were the ones I’d killed.”

“And you decided to come forward why?” asked Decker. “Because God might go easier on you?”

Montgomery shrugged. “Look, I’m going to die anyway. Screwed up my whole life. This dude Mars lost out on a lot because of me. Guess I’m just trying to make amends. Do one good thing before I kick off.” He stopped and gave Decker a searching look. “They are going to let him go, right? He didn’t kill his parents. I did.”

“We’ll see,” said Decker. “It’s the reason we’re here.”

“I told the local cops stuff that I knew about the house and all. Details they didn’t let out to the public. It was me. What else can I say?”

“I think you’ve said a lot,” answered Decker.

Bogart said, “And you never met Melvin Mars?”

Montgomery shook his head. “No sir, I never met the man. If he had been home that night I would’ve killed him too.”

They all fell silent for a few moments. Decker was studying Montgomery closely while Bogart looked down at some notes. Jamison and Davenport were watching Decker.

Decker finally said, “So you eventually remarried?”

Montgomery nodded. “A couple years later. I was already in my fifties, but Regina was twenty years younger. So we had a kid. I tried to settle down and get cleaned up, but it was no good.” He motioned to his head again. “Pains came back. Had ’em all the time at that point. I just went nuts. Did shit. Regina took our son and ran for it. I started robbing banks and selling drugs, murdered a couple dudes I was doing business with. Then I killed a state trooper. That’s why I’m here.”

“Where does your current wife live?” asked Decker.

Montgomery’s eyebrows flicked up at this. “Why?”

“We’ll need to talk to her.”

“Why?” he asked again.

“She’s part of this chain. We have to look at every link.”

Montgomery considered this for a long moment. “She lives about twenty miles from here. Prison has the address. Moved there when I got transferred here.”

“And you’ve been married how long?”

“About eighteen years. Though I’ve been in prison the last nine. Like I said, she left me when I went out of control. Hell, Tommy was just a little boy then. But when I got the death sentence she came to the prison to see me. We never officially got divorced. I guess she felt sorry for me.”

“How many kids do you have?” asked Decker.

“Just Tommy. He lives with his mom but he never comes here. Don’t blame him. Wasn’t there for him, so why should he be there for me? He’s a really good football player from what she tells me.”

“Does she visit you often?” asked Davenport.

Montgomery leveled his gaze on her. “Every week, like clockwork.”

“That’s nice,” said Davenport, drawing a wary look from Montgomery.

“Anyone else ever visit you?” asked Decker.

“I don’t have anybody else.”

“No lawyers or anything?”

“They tried. And failed. And left.”

&n

bsp; Decker said, “When is your execution date?”

“Three weeks from yesterday.”