The Last Mile (Amos Decker 2)

“I lied. It was hell. She was the family hooker and maid. They even let the guests have a go.”

“Did you kill Regina Montgomery?”

“She was an idiot. All she needed to do was go off into the sunset. But before her husband was even fried she was out buying shit and screwed it all up.”

“Why did you approach them in the first place?”

“Isn’t it obvious? To keep you from being executed.”

“You let me stay in prison for twenty years.”

“But I wasn’t going to let them kill you.”

“Why?”

“Because I promised your mother I wouldn’t.”

“I just don’t get you. I don’t know who the hell you are.”

Roy turned to him. “All you need to know is that I loved your mother more than anything. I sacrificed everything I had for her. I would have done anything for her.”

“You killed her!”

Roy screamed, “Because she told me to!”

The interior of the car suddenly did not seem large enough to hold both men at the same time. Mars just stared numbly out the windshield, seemingly unable to turn his gaze toward his father.

Roy said in a strained voice, “And I did it. Because I always did

anything she asked of me. Even that.” He turned to Mars. “She wasn’t the only one who died that night. Because I died too.”

“And you put me in prison.”

Roy rubbed at his face. “They would have killed you, don’t believe otherwise.”

“Because they think I have what was in that safe deposit box.”

Roy’s features hardened. “Decker again? He’s one smart prick. I should’ve slit his throat when I had the chance.”

“Chocha,” said Mars.

Roy looked at him. “What about it?”

“It means playing possum. Playing dead. Like you did.”

“As I said, better prison than a grave. These guys were serious people. Kill you to look at you.”

“Did you bomb the church? And the NAACP office? Did you?”

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

“Simple questions. Yes or no?”

“What, you want a confession?”

“They were little kids, Dad. In a choir.”

Roy looked away. “They weren’t supposed to be there. Choir practice ran late, I guess.”

“But you still did it.”

“That part was out of my hands.”

“Okay, so you’re completely innocent?”

Roy laughed. “You’ll never hear those words come out of my damn mouth.”

“Decker told McClellan that you were coming for them. To scare them.”

“Is that right? Like I could give a shit.”

“Really? Aren’t they the reason you had to kill Mom? I mean, if they weren’t around, if you’d had the balls to finish them off way back when?”

Roy stared down at his hands. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“So why don’t you tell me about it, Dad? You brought me out here. You obviously wanted to talk. So why don’t you tell me how a guy who married a ‘colored’ woman that he loved more than life itself could be part of a group that blew up black kids? Why don’t you tell me that?”

“Easy enough. I was a racist asshole. Just like McClellan and his buddies.”

“Was?”

“Until I met your mother.”

“What, then all your racist tendencies just vanished?”

“No. But I never hurt anyone like that again.”

“You hurt me! I’m black. You stole my life. Your own son.”

Roy turned to look at Mars. “The thing is, Mellow, you’re not my son. Your mother was pregnant when I rescued her.”

Mars sat there staring at him. “You’re not my father?” he finally managed to say.

“No. I’m not.”

“Then who was?” gasped Mars.

“A prick who raped your mom over and over. Until I made him stop. By slitting his throat.”

CHAPTER

62

MARS STOOD IN the parking lot and watched the taillights of the car disappearing as the rain started to sprinkle. He had never felt this disconnected from every other person on earth. It was like the plague had come and he was the only one left breathing. He actually would have welcomed the absolute solitude. He didn’t want to talk to anyone else ever again.

When the last wink of car lights vanished, it was as though someone had cut off his blood flow. Mars sank to the asphalt, first on his knees and then onto his belly.

He had so much rolling through his head that he couldn’t process it. He couldn’t even try. He felt sick. His limbs didn’t seem to work.

He just lay there for a while until the rain picked up.

He finally stood, staggered to his room, and collapsed on the bed and just lay there. An hour went by, and slowly he rose and sat on the side of the bed.

His father was not his father.

The man was a killer.

He had set him up for murder. He had cost him twenty years of his life.

His entire life was bullshit.

* * *

He left his room and knocked on Decker’s door. A few groans and mutterings later the door opened.

“Why are you up this early?” said Decker. Then he saw the look on Mars’s face and quickly ushered him in.

Mars sat down and told Decker what had just happened.

Decker didn’t say a word until he had finished.

“I’m sorry, Melvin.”

“I don’t want your damn sympathy. I just want to get to the bottom of this.”

“Well, I’m working on it,” said Decker.

Mars slowly lifted his head. “Did you know he wasn’t my father?”

“Why do you ask me that?”

“Because you seem to know every damn thing, that’s why. So, did you?”

Decker didn’t answer.

“Decker!”

“Does it really matter?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I suspected.”

“How?”

“Guy never said he loved you.”

“How the hell did you know that?”

“You told us. When you were under hypnosis. And he framed you for murder, Melvin. Don’t know many dads who would do that. What he