The Last Mile (Amos Decker 2)
his coffee.
After the waitress walked off, Decker took a forkful of the fruit and a bite of the toast.
“So did you think of anything?” Mars asked him.
“I thought of lots of things. Mostly questions to which I have no answers.”
“You know, I did remember one thing.”
“What’s that?” asked Decker quickly.
The waitress appeared again to deposit Mars’s coffee. She left and he said, “The only medical practice in town back then was over on Scotch Boulevard. If my mom talked to a doctor, it would have been there. That’s where they went to the dentist too.”
Decker nodded. “Good. We’ll check that out today.”
“But I still don’t see how that’s going to help us.”
“Investigations are not exact sciences. You plug along until something starts to make sense.”
“I talked to Mary. She’s still pissed about what happened. This is making her even more determined to sue the crap out of Texas.”
“She’s a good friend to you.”
“I thought I was done for when my last lawyer resigned. Then Mary came along and took up the case. We had lots of long talks. She wasn’t just my lawyer. She was, like you said, a friend. And we didn’t just talk about legal stuff. I learned about her family and she asked questions about mine, though it wasn’t like I could tell her much. But she was still interested. Was willing to listen for as long as I wanted her to. She knew how I felt about my mom and dad. She knew I could never have killed them.”
“I’m sure, Melvin.”
Mars glanced around. “You know, I thought Jamison would be here with you.”
“Why?”
“Her room is next to mine. I knocked on the door when I was heading over here to see if she wanted something to eat. Nobody answered.”
“Did you hear her inside?”
“No, nothing. Why?”
“Where else would she be at this time of the morning?” Decker put some dollar bills down on the table and rose.
Mars did too.
“Do you think something’s wrong?” he asked.
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
They hustled outside and down to Jamison’s room. Decker knocked loudly on the door.
“Alex? Alex, are you in there?”
When Decker reached down and pulled his gun, Mars took a step back. “You want me to knock the door in?” he asked Decker.
“What are you two doing?”
They turned to see Jamison walking toward them.
“Where the hell were you?” asked a relieved Decker as he put his gun away.
“They didn’t have any shampoo in the room. So I went to get some at the front desk, and that took forever because I couldn’t find anybody. And then I went into the little gift shop for a bottle of water. Is everything okay?”
“It is now,” said Mars. “We were just worried.”
“Well, I appreciate the—”
She stopped when a woman ran up to them. She was in her sixties, dressed as a maid, and clearly out of breath. “I think there’s something wrong,” she said.
“What do you mean?” asked Decker.
“Please hurry.” She turned and jogged back the way she had come.
They raced after her. They turned a corner and reached the other end of that wing of the U-shaped motel. The woman pointed to a door that was half open.
“That’s Davenport’s room,” said Jamison.
Decker pulled his gun once more, approached the door, and slowly pushed it open.
He peered inside to find the room in a shambles.
They quickly searched it.
Davenport was gone.
And not voluntarily.
CHAPTER
41
BOGART AND MILLIGAN are on their way down,” said Decker.
He was sitting in his room with Mars and Jamison after just getting off the phone. The police had come and done an investigation in connection with Davenport’s disappearance, but they had left with virtually no helpful findings. It was clear that she’d put up a fight. No one had heard anything, because that wing of the motel had been largely unoccupied at the time.
“FBI reengaging on this?” asked Jamison dully as she rubbed wearily at her eyes.
“It appears that they are taking her abduction as a personal attack on the Bureau, even if she wasn’t technically working for them at the time.”
Decker studied Jamison. She was pale and clearly shaken.
“Alex, do you have a gun?”
She gave him a sharp glance. “A gun? No. Why?”
“I’m going to get you one and then show you how to use it.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Given this latest development, do you think it’s unnecessary?”
Jamison looked away, her hands nervously clasped in front of her.
Mars said, “I don’t get this. Why take Davenport? Why not me? I’m the guy they want. Davenport could know nothing about what was in that safe deposit box.”
“They can’t know that for sure, Melvin,” pointed out Decker. “And let’s face it, Davenport is an easier target than you. And the room was still wrecked, so Davenport put up a fight. Could you imagine if it had been you instead? You might have killed them.”
Mars slowly nodded. “I guess you’re right.”
Decker suddenly looked pensive. “Actually, I might not be.” He rose.
“Where are you going?” asked Jamison.
“To look at Davenport’s room.”
“The locals have already gone over it.”
“And now it’s our turn.”
* * *
Decker entered the motel room and walked over to one wall, put his back against it, and surveyed the room in elongated sweeps, his head running side to side like a lighthouse beam. Jamison stood next to him. Mars hovered near the doorway, looking nervous and uncertain.
“See anything?” he asked anxiously.
“Davenport weighed about one-ten?” Decker said.
Jamison looked surprised by the question but said, “About that, I guess. She was about my height. And very lean.”
“She’s a runner,” said Decker thoughtfully. “So she would be lean.”
His gaze ran over the overturned table, upended chair, smashed lamp, the drywall by the bed, and finally the unmade bed.
Jamison said, “She was asleep when it happened. The intruder woke her.”
Mars said, “Well, she might have gotten up and gone for a run and not made her bed before she was kidnapped.”
“You’re both wrong,” said Decker.