The Last Mile (Amos Decker 2)
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Decker. “Good luck with your ballplaying.” He tapped his temple. “And never lead with your head. It’s not worth it.”
They left Tommy there and walked back out to the car.
“How did you know, Decker?” said Davenport.
“Know what?”
“That Regina Montgomery was coming into money?”
“I didn’t know until he told me. But I
suspected it.”
“But why did you suspect it?” asked Bogart.
“Because dead people have absolutely no use for cash.”
CHAPTER
20
CHARLES MONTGOMERY WAS in court today in Alabama and gave an allocution to the judge that he killed your parents.”
Decker tapped his hand on the arm of his chair as he sat looking at Melvin Mars, who was finishing a full week of rehab at a facility attached to the hospital.
Mars looked pretty much normal. The swelling was gone, along with the soreness. The docs had given him a clean bill of health. He was to be released the following day.
Mars put down the weights he had been lifting and toweled off his face.
“So what does that mean exactly?”
“It’s a formal statement under oath that what he said is true. It included specific details about the murders of your parents.”
“And the court accepted it?”
Decker nodded.
He had come here today by himself. He wanted some time alone with Mars.
“So what now?”
Decker said, “That statement has been forwarded to the court here in Texas that has jurisdiction over your case. The court will review it and then make a determination.”
“What about the people who actually prosecuted me?”
“They’ve retired. But the state lawyers are in the loop and they are also considering everything. If they come down on the side of believing Montgomery and throw their support to you, then I don’t think the court has any choice but to set you free. Pretty much immediately.”
Mars wrapped the towel around his neck, his muscles straining against the tight T-shirt, and sat down opposite Decker.
“How long you reckon all that will take?”
“I can’t imagine that long.”
“What was he like?” Mars asked quietly.
“Who, Montgomery?”
Mars nodded, his gaze on the floor.
“Probably like a lot of guys you’ve known in prison.”
“So just a screwed-up asshole looking to hurt people?”
“He was a Vietnam vet. Said stuff over there gave him headaches. Couldn’t take the pain. Turned to crime to pay for the drugs because the VA wouldn’t help him.”
“But why’d he kill my parents?”
“You really want to hear this? It can’t change anything.”
Mars glanced up at him. “Tell me.”
“Wrong place, wrong time. Montgomery tried to pawn stuff at your dad’s shop. He said your dad wasn’t buying, maybe dissed him. He got pissed, followed him home, wanted money, but your dad told him he was only the clerk there, that the owner put the money in the bank every night. So…he did what he did, using your shotgun he found in your room. And that gas can in the garage.”
Mars studied the floor. “And you believe him?”
“He had details only the person there would’ve known.”
Mars looked up again. “But do you believe he did it?”
Decker said nothing.
“So you don’t believe him, then?”
“Doesn’t matter what I believe. It matters what the truth is.”
“And that doesn’t come close to answering my question,” Mars said irritably. “Why do you have to make everything so damn hard, Decker?”
“My job is to find the truth, Melvin. I told you that the first time I met you. Right now, I don’t believe anybody.”
“Including me?”
“With you, I’m getting there. Faster than I normally do.” He added, “It’s probably because you’re so lovable.”
Mars laughed. “Didn’t think you had a sense of humor.”
“I don’t. You must be rubbing off on me.”
“So where do I go while all this stuff is being decided?”
“A safe house maintained by the FBI. It’s in Austin.”
“Haven’t been back to Austin since I played at UT.”
“I figured.” Decker paused. “Got a question for you.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“I read your mother’s full autopsy report.”
Mars stiffened as he looked warily at Decker. “And what? Did you see something off?”
“I saw that the coroner concluded that your mother had terminal brain cancer.”
Mars nearly toppled off the stool. He managed to keep his balance by slamming a hand down on the floor and righting himself.
“I can tell from your reaction that you didn’t know.”
“That’s bullshit,” exclaimed Mars.
“Not according to the report. There were pictures of the tumor. I won’t show them to you because the shotgun blast had done a lot of damage. Stage Four, pretty much always fatal. It’s what Ted Kennedy died of.”
Mars was staring at the floor, his eyes wide in disbelief. “She never said anything to me. Nothing.”
“Did she show any signs of being sick?”
Mars pressed the towel against his face and began to sob into it.
Decker, unprepared for this, sat back and simply waited.
When the sobs finally subsided, Mars rubbed his face dry and slowly sat up, his chest still heaving.
“She’d lost weight. Didn’t have much of an appetite. And she had headaches. Migraines, she said.”
“Did she ever go to a hospital? Receive any treatment?”
“I can’t believe this. She had brain cancer and they didn’t tell me? She was dying and they didn’t think to mention it to their only child?”
“I know this is a shock, Melvin. But if she’d started treatment you would have known, right?”
“I don’t know. I was gone a lot. But she didn’t lose her hair or nothing like that. I would’ve noticed that.”
“Was she still working at the end?”
Mars looked up. “No. Dad said he wanted her to take a break. I just thought it was because of the money I’d be getting. I never…” His voice trailed away.
“Would they have gone to a doctor in town?”
“I guess. They had their dentist. And Mom used a chiropractor sometimes. All the work she did made her stiff.”
“Do you know the name of the doctor?”
“No.” He paused. “I guess back then it was all about me, Decker. I really didn’t have that much to do with my parents. I was so busy with football. But…but I still loved them. I was going to take care of them. But…shit.”