The Last Mile (Amos Decker 2)

so.”

Mars looked at her. “All those questions about my family, my father, or at least who I thought was my father. You were pumping me for information before they were going to execute me. You were trying to see if I knew where the stuff from the safe deposit box was.”

“I worked my ass off for you.”

Bogart said, “After Decker showed me the photo earlier, I did some digging. Your legal work was merely perfunctory. And when Melvin was rearrested, it was Decker who saved him in court, not you. And I also checked on the ‘lawsuit’ you filed against the state of Texas on Melvin’s behalf. Never happened.”

“I guess being a disciple of a racist like McClellan, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually help a black guy,” noted Decker. “But all that’s beside the point. We have you for the kidnapping. That’s twenty to life in a federal pen. And if Davenport’s dead, you could be looking at the death penalty.”

“You have no proof! And the lawsuit in Texas? It’s not like I’m being paid by this guy,” she added, hooking a thumb at Mars. “It was probably a filing error. I’ll be sure to rectify it,” she added with a smirk.

Decker looked at Bogart. “She needs more persuading.”

“We got a search warrant on your phone and online accounts.”

“Based on what?” screamed Oliver.

“Based on the fact that you are a close confidante of a principal player in our investigation. Coincidences that large don’t exist. The judge issuing the warrant agreed with our logic.”

Decker said, “And there are four lengthy emails between you and McClellan. You were keeping him posted about our investigation. That right there is obstruction. There’s also a text where you use the initials LD and ask for the status of the person.” Decker leaned forward. “Now, if you still don’t think we have a case against you, get up and try to walk out of here.”

“I want a lawyer.”

“You haven’t been charged yet,” said Bogart. “So you’re not entitled to one.”

Oliver gazed around at the others before dropping into her chair and glaring at Decker. “What the hell do you want?”

“I want Lisa Davenport back safe and sound. You help us do that, and also help us nail McClellan and his buddies, then I think the DOJ will cut you a nice deal.”

Oliver said nothing.

Decker leaned forward more. “Is Lisa Davenport still alive?”

Oliver said nothing.

Decker abruptly stood. “Okay, Agent Bogart, I say charge her and arrest her. We’ll nail the Musketeers without her help and they all go to prison for life or get the needle, including her.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” said Bogart, who nodded at Milligan.

Milligan gripped Oliver’s arm. “Please stand.”

When she didn’t respond he jerked her to her feet. “Mary Oliver, you are under arrest for—”

“Wait, wait,” she said, her breath accelerating.

They all looked at her expectantly.

“I…I don’t know if she’s still alive.”

“Then I suggest you find out,” said Bogart. “And then tell us where she is.”

“I…I don’t know where they took her. They wouldn’t tell me.”

“You don’t seem to be trying,” said Decker. “If you want a deal, you need to earn it. You find out where she is.”

Bogart said, “And we’ll be watching and listening to your every move. You so much as think about telling your buddies that you’ve been found out, I will find enough to charge you with that you won’t see the light of day ever again.”

Oliver’s chin dropped to her chest and she started to quietly sob.

Decker said dismissively, “We’ve got no time for that. If they haven’t killed Davenport yet, there’s no telling when they might. You need to act. Now.”

“But how do I find out?” wailed Oliver.

“I’ll tell you exactly how,” said Decker.

CHAPTER

70

WHY THE HELL didn’t you tell me this before?” screamed McClellan into the phone.

Oliver said, “I just found out about it, Roger. I called you immediately.”

“She hypnotized Mars? And he told her things?”

“Yes, that’s what I just heard from Decker.”

“But you mentioned the things in the safe deposit box. Did he talk about them?”

“Apparently, yes. Decker was going to meet with her to get some more information, but we’d taken Davenport by then.”

“Shit. I’ve had her all this time and she might know? I mean really know?”

“It’s certainly possible. So you need to talk to her.” She paused. “Please tell me she’s still…”

“I’ll handle this,” snapped McClellan, and he hung up. He hustled out of the building and jumped into his car.

* * *

It was a full hour’s drive to the small farmhouse in the middle of a hundred acres that McClellan had inherited from his father. He skidded the car to a stop in front of the frame house with a falling-in porch. There was another car parked out front.

A man appeared at the door as McClellan rushed up to it. “Got your call,” he said. He was short and broad-shouldered with thick hands. A pistol was shoved into his waistband.

McClellan pushed past him and into the front room. He crossed it in three strides and opened the door to the small bedroom.

On a chair sat Davenport. She was bound, gagged, and blindfolded.

McClellan pulled up another chair and sat facing her.

She had tensed when the door opened, her spine rigid against the back of the chair.

McClellan reached over and pulled the gag out. “We need to talk,” he said.

Davenport licked her lips and swallowed several times. “I need some water.”

McClellan grabbed a plastic bottle off a table, unscrewed the top, and held it up to her lips. She drank some, coughed, and then drank some more.

McClellan said, “You hypnotized Melvin Mars?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Not much.”

“I need to hear it. In detail.”

“I need to think. I’m just so tired.”

He grabbed her by the shoulder and shook it. “Think faster.”