The Fix (Amos Decker 3)

Decker, Mars, and Jamison got out of the car in front of Dominion Hospice. Mars was holding a box.

Jamison said, “We’re going to Harper’s for dinner tomorrow night, don’t forget.”

“Already bought the wine,” said Mars. “And she lost the wheelchair for good. They said she had some temporary weakness because of what happened with the gas. But she’s all fine now.”

“And does that mean you’re moving to the area permanently?” asked

Jamison coyly.

“Already got a contract down on a house that, what do you know, is only a couple blocks from her. We can go running together.”

Jamison said, “Hey, I’m in on that.”

“Cool, Alex.”

Mars looked at Decker. “How about you?”

“How about me what?” he groused.

“You want to run with us?”

“Only if you’re chasing a criminal.”

As they walked to the front doors Jamison said, “Hey, Decker, couple of questions.”

He looked at her.

“So I get that Dabney’s work at the FBI gave the bad guys the idea for attacking the FBI. But what was the information exactly?”

“He was working on the building’s infrastructure. To do that he had been given highly classified information about the building’s support structure and that gas line running under it. Plus info on the maze of tunnels under the street and the Hoover Building. That’s what Berkshire’s people really wanted. Bogart found out that they had already leased the building across the street, probably for surveillance purposes on the FBI. But now, with what Dabney had given them, they were able to draw up a new plan and worked around the clock to link up with the utility tunnel and take it under the Hoover Building and then sabotage the gas line. They also found out when the President and other world leaders would be there. They wanted to take them all out—kill eleven thousand people and cripple America’s premier crimefighting agency.”

She nodded, taking this in. “Okay, remember when Walter Dabney told Natalie about the story from Disney World? His riding in the ambulance?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Why did he tell her that?”

“Because he’s only human.”

She looked confused. “What?”

“Dabney knew at that point about his wife’s spying. But he was too honorable to tell his kids. He didn’t want them to hate her. But he also knew he was going to shoot Berkshire and kill himself, so he couldn’t resist telling his daughter a story that had him being the one who was there for her, and not her mother.”

They entered the building and started down the hall.

“Any word on what will happen to Mrs. Dabney and her daughter?” asked Mars.

“Even though she voluntarily stopped spying, Ellie Dabney is going to do some serious prison time. Natalie might get off with some sort of probation. They can’t prove she knew anything about the actual espionage.”

They checked in at the front desk and were led back to Joey Scott’s room. The little boy was lying in the bed with his eyes closed.

Their escort, a nurse, gently roused him. When he opened his eyes, she told him about his visitors, then turned and left.

The three of them drew closer to the bed.

“Hey, Joey,” said Mars.

Joey smiled weakly and lifted his hand in a wave before it dropped back to the bed.

“Got something for you.”

He opened the box and pulled out a football. He held it in front of the boy and said, “Look who signed it for you.”

Joey looked at the writing on the ball and his eyes grew large.

“To my friend Joey, Peyton Manning,” read Joey.

Decker added, “And he sent a signed picture too.” He held up the framed photo so Joey could see it. “I’m going to put it on your nightstand. You can look at it whenever you want.”

They all drew up chairs and sat next to the bed. Mars placed the ball next to Joey. The little boy put his hand on the pigskin and rubbed the spot where Manning had signed.

Jamison whispered to Mars, “How did you score that?”

“Friend of a friend who works at the NFL. They told me that when Manning heard about Joey he wanted to fly out here and meet him. I think he’s actually going to do that.”

“Wow,” said Jamison. She took a book from her bag and opened it to a certain page. “Joey, I’m going to finish reading The Prisoner of Azkaban to you, okay? The last part is so exciting!”

He smiled. “Okay.”

While Jamison started to read, Decker put his hands on the bed rail and stared down at Joey. Every once in a while, Joey would look up at them and smile.

And Decker found himself each time smiling back.

He had lost Molly at about the same age Joey was now.

And he knew that Joey didn’t have much longer to live. It hadn’t been that long since Decker had first met the boy, and Joey already seemed much weaker. Decker could see his body shutting down little by little.

But for now, Decker saw no blue at all. He just saw a boy smiling while holding a football signed by a hero of his.

Decker’s life was complicated, his future probably even more so. But for right now he forgot about having a perfect memory, or the horrific way by which he’d acquired it. He stopped thinking for at least a little while about the family he had lost.

He glanced at the two people next to him, who were his friends. Two people who, despite his many shortcomings, would always be his friends.

Then he looked back down at Joey. The boy’s eyes were closed, but his hand remained firmly attached to the precious football.

Decker reached out a big hand and gently stroked Joey’s head. As he did so he felt his eyes moisten.

But for now, right this instant, things were okay.

* * *

Decker had taken to thinking of this now as “his” bench. The skies were growing darker and the wind was picking up. The river flowed in front of him and in the swift currents he could see his own thoughts hurtling along. He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and closed his eyes.

Yet this time he was not engaging his prodigious memory. No perfect recall was required for what he wanted to think about. For a man who didn’t like change, there was a great deal of it heading his way. A new job at the FBI. Being a “landlord” with Jamison. Mars moving here. Harper Brown becoming a fixture in his life through her relationship with Mars. He didn’t even know if Jamison wanted to continue working at the FBI. She might leave and do something else. For all he knew Mars and Brown might get married and move away. Bogart and Milligan might get transferred.

And then it would just be him.

Amos Decker from Small-town Ohio, transplanted to this very strange land known as Washington, D.C.

Alone.

Again.

He rubbed his eyes and put his hand back in his pocket. The good moment sitting with Joey Scott had been a welcome one, but it was now over. Though he could never equate what he was going through with the terminal illness that the little boy was enduring, Decker knew that his future was crowded with uncertainty. His