“Maybe you don’t” was all he said to that. But there was so little energy behind it that White did not seem to take offense.

  She said, “So, we got Lancer and Kelly missing. Draymont and Cummins dead. Ex with an alibi.”

  “Provided by his son and maybe some business associates on video. We need to confirm he really was on those Zooms. If all that hangs together, he couldn’t have personally done the murders. But he could have hired someone, as I said before.”

  “The Slovakian cash in the mouth?”

  “Either real and literal or an intentional distraction.” Or maybe both, he suddenly thought.

  “Motive for the ex?”

  “We need to talk to Cummins’s lawyer, Duncan Trotter. Might depend on where her money goes.”

  “Her neighbor thought it was going to Tyler, not Barry Davidson.”

  “Still could be a motive, since Barry might manage that money and burn through some of it until Tyler comes of age.”

  “He looks to be doing pretty well all on his own.”

  “Looks can be deceiving. And even if Tyler gets it all, there could be personal reasons for the killing that we don’t know about yet. They were divorced and it didn’t sound like it was all that amicable.”

  “True.”

  “And I’ve got a hunch Gamma is going to stonewall us on our queries.”

  “I gotta feeling Gamma is gonna stonewall us on a lot of things.”

  Decker nodded but said nothing. He stared at his fresh beer like it was a clue.

  “Hopefully, we’ll find something on the judge’s computers or phone that will help us.”

  “Yeah,” Decker said unenthusiastically.

  She stared at him. “Alex described you as relentless. You get going on a case and nothing, not God himself, is going to stop you.”

  He did a sideways glance at her. “And?”

  “And, don’t take this wrong, but you don’t seem to be that guy right now.”

  He took a long swig of beer. “Maybe right now I’m not.”

  “Is it Lancaster’s suicide?”

  He rose, dropped cash for his drinks, and walked off.

  Chapter 24

  S​HE WATCHED HIM GO, THIS huge man lumbering along. He had been described to her by many people she respected as far and away the most dogged investigator the FBI had. Yes, annoying, frustrating to deal with, fragile at times, cutting unnervingly right to the edge of the legal envelope. But the man got the job done. He would walk through walls and over anyone standing in his way, no matter who it was, or how high up in the pecking order they were.

  And while he had been somewhat like that today, he did not look like that man right now.

  And he was her brand-spanking-new partner.

  She sipped her G and T but didn’t really taste it.

  Shit, am I screwed or what?

  She pulled out her phone and called home. Her mother, Serena, answered. She asked about the kids, who were asleep at this hour.

  “They’re fine, but from the sound of you, you’re not fine, Frederica.”

  Her mother had resolutely declined to ever call her daughter Freddie.

  “Just the case. Issues.”

  “All your cases have issues, especially in the beginning. What’s different now?”

  “My partner is different.” She went on to explain about Decker, including his brain trauma and personal losses. “He seems disengaged. And if this investigation goes into the toilet, so do I. I didn’t want a transfer. I don’t even know why they picked me to partner with him.”

  “You don’t? Really?”

  White’s brow crinkled. “What exactly are you saying, Mom?”

  “Do you remember what happened to you when Donte was killed?”

  “How the hell could I ever forget that?”

  “Well, you apparently have. Just think on that. And pray on that. I feel sure you’ll get there in the end.”

  “How can you stay so positive with all the shit that’s happened to our family?”

  “You think we’re the only family that’s had bad things happen?”

  “We’ve had more than our share.”

  “I know some folks that have lost all of their children to violence.”

  “A racist white cop put a bullet in Daddy’s head because Daddy stood up to him. And he didn’t spend one damn day in prison for it because the department thought it would be really bad for morale, and so they covered it up to look like an accident. Yeah, we got money, but that doesn’t cut it. It didn’t bring Daddy back.”

  “Everything you said is exactly right, Frederica. And you will carry that with you for the rest of your life, as I will. But if you let it be what leads your life and defines who you are, then your existence on this earth will not be nearly as positive or productive as it could be.”

  “I don’t get you, I really don’t.”

  “Just like maybe you don’t get your new partner.”

  “If he blows this, my trajectory gets stalled out real fast. My kids are going to college. I need to keep moving up.”

  “I got the money for college for your kids.”

  “No, that’s your money. That’s Daddy’s money. I don’t want it.”

  “You’d be so stubborn over that you’d risk your kids’ not getting ahead?”

  “They’re my kids and I’ll get it done for them. Just like you and Daddy did for us. You didn’t have rich relatives help you out. And I’m not going that route, either. You didn’t raise me that way.”

  “Just pray on it, Frederica, just pray on it.”

  White clicked off and just shook her head. She hadn’t prayed or been to church since Donte had been killed.

  And I’m not starting now. Because where was God when Daddy got killed? Where was he when Donte died? Not anywhere near where I fucking live.

  An instant later she felt both her pulse and blood pressure rise dramatically.

  Shit! She’d started having these panic attacks a while back. It was never to do with work. It was always to do with her kids. And her conversation with her mother had put it all front and center again. She took deep breaths and willed herself to calm.

  She’d never talked about this with anyone at work. She didn’t want anyone there to think she couldn’t handle herself, the pressures, no matter where they came from. She had thought about getting help, talking to a counselor, but then decided to try to manage it on her own.

  She left her unfinished drink on the counter and went to bed.

  And Frederica White didn’t sleep any better than Amos Decker did.

  Chapter 25

  HE COULDN’T GET THE DAMN image of Lancaster putting the gun in her mouth out of his head. It was like a heartbeat you heard in your eardrum. It just wouldn’t go away and you couldn’t ignore it. Decker tossed and turned in his bed and finally gave up.

  He rose, dressed, and headed out. He reached the beach. It was two in the morning. He wasn’t fearful for his personal safety. He was a huge guy and carried a big gun. And anyway, he didn’t give a crap right now.

  He walked to the edge of the sand and peered out at the ocean, pounding and whirling and doing its thing, like it always did.

  The sky held a scattering of stars, a few smoky wisps of clouds. At the higher altitude he saw the contrails of a jet crossing the Gulf on its way somewhere.

  His gaze returned to the earth, and he drew in a deep lungful of salt air.

  And he started walking on the sand. It crunched and compacted under his bulk, giving him some purchase. It felt good, for some reason. Loose granules coming together to form something solid. Or was that just wishful thinking from a tired, overwrought mind?

  Yeah, that could definitely be the case.

  He walked near the water and then plopped down on his butt, pulled his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them.

  He and Cassie had taken Molly to Disney World once when she was six. It was the only time he’d been to Florida on something non-football related. The only time other than now.

  They’d had fun and emptied their bank account. But it had been worth it. He remembered the character breakfast when Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck and Goofy and their pals had come by. Molly had been terrified at first, hiding behind her father and only peeking out at the costumed characters as they walked past.

  But little by little, she had gained confidence, and come out of hiding. She’d held hands with Donald and had her picture taken with Mickey. Cassie had tears in her eyes, and even Decker, who didn’t get any of this at all, picked his daughter up so she could kiss the tall Goofy.

  It was a wonderful, if overpriced, trip, and it also felt like a million years ago. And in most respects, it was.

  He snagged a shell and looked at it. It was white and gray and cracked and felt fragile in his huge hand.

  So, what are you going to do, Decker? You got some dead bodies and a load of stuff to look at, most of which is total bullshit. There will be junk popping up that doesn’t make any sense but I will have to make sense out of it. If I can. And I don’t know if I can. Or if I even want to. And those are two big ifs.

  He rose and kept walking.

  Out over the waves he conjured images of people who had been important in his life. Unlike his wife and daughter, they were all alive.

  There was Melvin Mars, once on death row and now leading a wonderful life with a woman he loved. There was Ross Bogart, now retired, but with whom Decker had solved dozens of cases. And out beyond them both was a young woman who was once a journalist back in Burlington, Ohio, and now was a full-fledged FBI agent, kicking ass and doing good.

  He took out his phone and hit speed dial, hoping she would answer.

  Alex Jamison did, on the very first ring.

  “I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to call me,” she said.

  “I’m sorry for calling in the middle of the night.”

  “I’m in a car pulling graveyard-shift surveillance, and I can think of no one else I’d rather talk to than you. So, how is it going with your new partner?”

  “It’s going, but not well.”

  “Did you expect otherwise? You are Amos Decker, after all.”

  He found himself smiling at this remark. “I keep being reminded of that every day. Pretty sure it’s not a good thing.”

  “She’s a fine agent, Decker. Really sharp. She’s got more experience than me. And she’s been through a lot worse than I have.”

  “I know. She told me.”

  “She might have told you some things, not all.”

  “You sound like you’re closer than ‘Freddie’ let on.”

  “Many female FBI agents are close, if not for real, at least in spirit. There aren’t that many of us, at least in proportion to the guys.”

  “Is this where you tell me I have to give her a chance?” he said dully.

  “No. This is where I tell you that you have to give yourself a chance. Freddie will be good, Decker, with or without you. I’m not worried about her. But I am worried about you.”

  “Because of Mary?”

  “Because of lots of things.”

  “I…I got a letter from the Cognitive Institute. After my annual checkup there.”

  “And what did it say?”

  “It said a lot of things.”

  “Bad things?”

  “Not so good.”

  “Is it manageable?”

  “They don’t know, so neither do I.”

  “I’m sorry, Amos,” she said, her voice suddenly splintering with emotion.

  Decker shrugged at the waves and her remark. “It’s not unexpected. Have to pay the piper at some point.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re flesh and blood. You feel things. More than most.”

  “The thing is, this case down here…it’s complicated.”

  “Are any of them not?”

  “I mean, really complicated. And I’m not certain…that I’m up to it.”

  Jamison said nothing for so long that Decker thought he had lost the connection.

  “I have to admit, that one surprised me. You always somehow manage to.”

  “Not my intent.”

  “Let’s get something straight. I don’t care how complicated the case is, you’re up to it, if you want to be.”

  “And therein lies the rub,” said Decker.

  “You once told me that without your work, you had nothing.”

  “Which is pitiful in and of itself, I know.”

  “I didn’t tell you that back then, and I’m not telling you that now. You don’t make widgets for a living. You find justice in this fucked-up world we all live in. You give the dead a voice. You hold guilty people accountable.”

  “I used to think that. Now I believe I was just chasing something I’ll never catch.”

  “You never used to believe that. I lost count of the number of times you told me that the only thing that matters is that when someone does something bad, they cannot be allowed to get away with it. Nothing else mattered, you said, if we let that slide. Because that one thing dictates the sort of world we will all live in. I know you remember that, even without a perfect memory.”

  “Stop saying that, Alex, because nothing about it, not one goddamn thing, is perfect.”

  “Which makes you just like everybody else. Look, I don’t know what was in the letter from the Institute and you don’t have to tell me. But if it is the worst, then you need to decide what you want to do. You’re the only one who can answer that question.”

  “I…I need you, Alex.”

  “The truth is, you never needed me or anyone else to do what you do. I was the sometimes helpful sidekick who basically stood there in awe of what you were able to do time and again. And while I can’t come back right now, I will come back.”

  “But what about this guy in New York? I thought it was serious.”

  “The fact is, he wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. And I decided I’m not a big-city girl.”

  She fell silent and Decker could only hear her calm, measured breaths, unlike his.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Alex.”

  “You absolutely can do it if you want to. And if you don’t want to, there’s nothing wrong with that, either. And I’ll be right there supporting you. But knowing you as I do, if you walk away now, whatever you’re feeling, you’ll wake up tomorrow ten times worse. I can’t say I know everything about you. No one really does about someone else. But I know you better than anyone else alive. And I know that I’m right about that. And so do you.”

  Another long silence ensued.

  “Thanks, Alex,” said Decker.

  “I want you to know something. Something important. Something that I believe with all my heart, Amos.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I need you. As does the rest of the world.”

  Chapter 26

  DECKER ROSE PROMPTLY AT SIX A.M., feeling refreshed, despite not much sleep. He looked out his window at the gathering dawn and reflected on his conversation with Jamison.

  It had been wonderful to hear her voice. It had been humbling to hear the woman’s words. He knew he had to get his shit together. And if he walked away from this, from the only thing he’d been good at since football, then what would he do with his life? To make himself get out of bed each day? To avoid once more sinking into the abyss of the past?

  Decker was not a superstitious man. But right as he had gone to sleep, he’d seen his daughter, and Molly was trying to talk to him. Saying things he really couldn’t make out though he had desperately tried to, because his exhausted mind had fooled him into thinking she was really there.

  The thing was, Molly had never come to him in a vision, not like that. Perhaps she could tell he was at a crossroads.

  And I probably am.

  He knew what his wife would tell him. “You’re no quitter, you’ve never been a quitter. When shit got tough, you just brought a bigger shovel and left scorched earth in your wake.”

  And now maybe he knew what Molly was trying to tell him. And Jamison.

  So he showered, shaved, brushed his teeth extra hard, changed into clean clothes, tucked his shirt in, and combed his hair. Next he put on his only jacket, a corduroy one with elbow patches. And while the jacket was old and not stylish, it was still a jacket.

  He was waiting in the hotel restaurant at seven thirty sharp when White and Andrews showed up within a minute of each other.

  White looked him up and down, noting the groomed appearance and the jacket. “You look ready for war, Decker.”

  “Maybe I am.” He glanced at Andrews. “Let’s grab some chow and coffee and go over what needs going over.”

  “The APBs have turned up nothing,” said Andrews as they ate. “Kelly’s phone must be turned off because we couldn’t trace it. But search warrants are being issued for Lancer’s and Draymont’s homes. Should have them this morning, in fact.”

  “Good,” said Decker. “And the entry log for the guard gate?”

  “I have people going over that and noting anything that we’ll have to run down. From what I’ve been told so far, there’s not much there. It did show Draymont came through the gate around eight p.m. that night. I did confirm Davidson was on the Zoom calls with two clients at the times he says. And you said Tyler gave him an alibi for the rest of the relevant time period. We’ll have to get an official statement from him.”

  “Right, but as I suggested before, what if Davidson hired someone to kill her?”

  “I can check his financials, see if he made any large payments or took out a bunch of cash. Hit men like cash.”

  “Okay,” said Decker. “What about Gamma and any info on threats received by the judge?”

  “I got an email from their counsel late last night. As you hinted at, they said we would have to go to court if we wanted any information.”

  Decker flitted back through his memory cloud and thought about each time they had asked someone about threats to the judge. The result was confusing at best. “Okay, what else?” he said.