“We’ll drive you to his car and you can take him from there,” said Decker. “Where’s your bike?”

  “It’s foldable, so I put it in the back of my dad’s car. He left it unlocked.”

  “We can follow along if you need help getting him into the condo building.”

  “I’m fine. Won’t be the first time I’ve carried my dad inside,” said Tyler, looking embarrassed.

  After Tyler drove off in the Mercedes with his father lying down in the back seat, Decker turned to White. “We need to run ballistics on the gun.”

  “You don’t think…?”

  “I’m not sure. That’s why I want to run the test. And there’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “Tyler said his father parked his car off the road and slipped into the neighborhood through the golf course side to avoid the gate.”

  “Meaning he could have done the same the night of the murder. But his car didn’t leave the garage that night, and he has an alibi.”

  “He could have borrowed or rented a car. And maybe Tyler isn’t as sure of the times that night as he said he was.”

  “You think he’s covering for his dad?”

  “His dad is the only thing he has left.”

  “But at least we know one thing for certain.”

  “What’s that?” said Decker.

  “The man was clearly lying when he said he was over his ex-wife.”

  Chapter 63

  WHITE COULDN’T SLEEP, SO SHE left her room, trudged down to the hotel lobby, and went out the rear entrance. She sat by the pool and slipped out a single cigarette from her jacket pocket. She had smoked some in high school, and college, but then swore off the habit when she became pregnant the first time. But when her panic attacks had begun, she had allowed herself an occasional flutter. It was no coincidence, she knew, that her panic attacks had commenced right after Donte’s death.

  When it had happened she had caught the first flight back and driven straight to the morgue to see her baby lying lifeless on a slab. They had not conducted the autopsy yet. They had held off so White could see her child before the required procedure took place. For that she was grateful. That had been the only thing she had been grateful about.

  It had taken her seemingly an eternity to open her eyes and look down at his small body with the sheet pulled up to his chest. A part of her was thinking that if she didn’t open her eyes and see him, he couldn’t possibly be dead.

  Yet she had to accept the reality of her son being gone. And when she had looked down at him…?

  She suddenly felt panicked as her heart commenced to beat rapidly. The dread ate into her belly and her lungs heaved, making her breaths erratic.

  With a shaky hand she used a Zippo to light her cigarette. In the momentary flicker of flame she saw Donte—not the boy on the slab, but the child she had birthed and raised until senseless violence had taken him away from his mother.

  She controlled and slowed her breathing, letting the cigarette smoke drift from her. It lazily moved over the pool and then disappeared into the night.

  Like Donte had.

  “Didn’t figure you for a closet smoker.”

  She whirled to see Decker standing off to the right, in the fringe of flickering shadows.

  White said, “I allow myself one every once in a while.”

  Decker nodded and drew closer. He stared at the still waters of the pool. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “Apparently just like you couldn’t.”

  “I never sleep well. Apparently, it’s just not my thing,” he added.

  “I sent you a file on the incident with Langley and the prostitute.”

  “I read it and saw the pictures. She’s lucky to be alive. And then she dropped her complaint and left town. Leaving Langley free and clear.”

  “For guys like him, there’s never any accountability.” White took another puff. “And Barry Davidson’s weapon is a Sig nine-mill. Same caliber round found in Draymont and Lancer. If ballistics confirms that it was the gun used to kill them, that blows your theory of two killers.”

  “Maybe,” said Decker.

  “I don’t see any way around it.”

  “We also need to see Gloria Chase and Dennis Langley, separately.”

  “You think you can get her to flip on him?”

  Decker shrugged. “Who knows? And we won’t be able to do it if Langley didn’t kill Cummins.”

  “The way I see it, we have two primary suspects for Cummins’s murder: Barry Davidson and Dennis Langley. But if the gun matches, Davidson did all three and Langley is innocent. Do you agree with that?”

  “There are problems with that theory,” said Decker. “One big one is that Cummins was stabbed and not shot.”

  “I know that. But if Davidson was there shooting Draymont, odds are he knifed his ex-wife.”

  “And the Slovakian money in the mouth?” asked Decker.

  White finished her smoke, tapped it out, and threw the butt away in a trash can. “Could just be an intentional distraction.”

  “And the two men who took Lancer from the hospital? Are they Davidson’s or Langley’s associates? And where did they keep Lancer all that time? And why beat her? What did she know that could hurt them? And if Draymont was only killed because he was there when either Davidson or Langley showed up to murder Cummins, why kill Lancer at all?”

  “Decker, I thought you believed it was one of these two guys,” said a frustrated White.

  “I never said that. They’re suspects, sure. And they could have killed Cummins, but not Draymont and Lancer. And not Kelly. They would have had no reason to.”

  “But you think Davidson or Langley might have killed Cummins?” asked White.

  “It’s certainly possible. They had motive and means and maybe opportunity if their alibis don’t hold up. So we have to follow that through. Especially since we now know Davidson knew how to avoid the security gate.”

  “Okay but if Davidson’s gun comes back as the murder weapon on Draymont and Lancer? What then?”

  “Then maybe I’ve been looking at this case completely wrong,” conceded Decker.

  Chapter 64

  T​HE CALL CAME IN AS Decker and White were having breakfast at the hotel the following morning. Decker listened and then put his phone down.

  “Well?” asked White.

  “That was the U.S. attorney’s office. Based on the ballistics test, they went before a federal magistrate and had an arrest warrant issued for Barry Davidson for murder. The Feds are leading the prosecution because of Cummins’s connection. Their theory is Davidson killed all three.”

  “So the ballistics matched on Draymont and Lancer. Which means you were looking at this case all wrong.”

  Decker finished his coffee. “The U.S. marshals are making the pickup on Davidson. I do want to talk to him. Hopefully he’ll be sober.”

  “What about Tyler?”

  “Shitty all around. If his father gets convicted he’ll go off to college with an albatross wrapped around his neck.”

  “If he even goes after all this.”

  “Maybe the best thing for him to do is to get away from this place.”

  * * *

  Later that day, Decker and White arranged to interview Davidson at the federal lockup in Fort Myers, where he had been processed and jailed. They met him in a small, windowless room. He was in his prison-issued one-piece, his wrists and ankles shackled.

  The man was stone-cold sober and also looked utterly bewildered. And he had, surprisingly, not requested a lawyer, at least not yet.

  Decker had confirmed this with the marshals, and then with Davidson himself.

  As he settled in across from Davidson, Decker couldn’t help feeling sorry for the man. He was either innocent or the most hapless murderer Decker had come across. And he had confronted some real doozies.

  “They…they tell me my gun killed two people,” he began.

  “Ballistics matched, yeah,” said Decker. “It’s why you were arrested.”

  “I didn’t kill them. I didn’t even know them.”

  “Well, one of them was in your ex’s house. He was killed at the same time she was,” pointed out White.

  “And I didn’t kill Julia,” Davidson snapped.

  Decker said, “How did you end up in her house last night?”

  “We have a key in case Tyler needed to get in. I went in the rear door because there was a funny lock on the front door.”

  “A police lock,” said White. “So same door that was left open by the killer.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone!”

  “Okay, but why were you there?” asked Decker.

  “With a gun,” added White.

  Davidson sunk his face into his hands. “I was drunk. I was…out of my head. I guess I just…missed her.”

  “Why’d you take the gun?” asked Decker. “Why would you need it?”

  Davidson shrugged and didn’t answer.

  “You put the muzzle against your cheek. I was afraid you were going to pull the trigger and that would’ve been the end of you.”

  Davidson again didn’t reply. He rubbed at his shackled wrists.

  White said, “Some might see your wanting to kill yourself as a guilty conscience.”

  Davidson shook his head but remained silent.

  Decker said, “Tyler mentioned that your car’s security pass had expired?”

  Davidson glanced up. “What? No, it hadn’t. It’s on auto renewal.”

  “Then why not just come in through the gate?”

  Davidson looked confused and troubled by the question. “I…I don’t remember.”

  “Tyler intimated that you had previously cut through the golf course parking lot on foot to avoid the gate. Why do that, Barry? You must have had a reason to go to all that trouble.”

  Davidson’s features were now guarded. “I don’t remember.”

  “Did you make a habit of going over to her house, to check on things?” asked Decker.

  Davidson glared at him. “You mean spy, don’t you? You think I was stalking her?”

  “I think you hadn’t gotten over the divorce. My partner here feels the same.”

  Davidson shot White a questioning glance but said nothing.

  “Before last night, when was the last time you had seen or used your gun?” asked White.

  “I don’t really remember. It’s been a long time.”

  “Where do you keep it?” asked White.

  “When Tyler was younger, I had a gun box. But lately, it’s been in my desk drawer.”

  “So last time you saw it, just ballpark. Weeks, months, years?” said White.

  “Maybe six months. I bought it after Julia and I were married and were living in another house. We were robbed there.”

  “Anybody been to your home recently who could have taken it and then returned it?” asked Decker.

  “No, it’s just been me and Tyler.”

  “Anyone have a key to your place?” asked White.

  “Tyler does, of course. And Julia had one. In case of emergency.”

  Decker glanced at White. “Nothing like that was found at Cummins’s house, was it?”

  “Not that I know of, but they probably weren’t looking for a key.”

  “I didn’t shoot those people,” barked Davidson. “I’ll take one of those polygraphs if you want me to.”

  Decker said, “But you can see why you were arrested, can’t you?”

  He looked at them in desperation. “I have a damn alibi.”

  “But some alibis are better than others. And maybe Tyler has a reason to give you one,” noted Decker.

  “He wouldn’t lie. He said I was there because I was there!”

  “Okay,” said Decker. “Just keep calm.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to keep calm! And Tyler was at school when they arrested me. I don’t think he even knows where I am.”

  “We’ll fill him in,” said Decker.

  “I guess I need a lawyer.”

  “Yes, you do. Have you given an official statement yet?”

  “No.”

  Decker said, “Don’t without talking to an attorney, and he’ll probably recommend against it. Your arraignment is tomorrow. You’ll make your plea, and bail will be set.”

  “I’m pleading not guilty.”

  “Okay,” said Decker.

  “Will I need to stay in jail?”

  “Depends on what the prosecution asks for and what the judge decides,” answered White. “But given that we’re talking about multiple homicides, don’t be surprised if you’re remanded into custody until your trial date.”

  “But Tyler!”

  “Can take care of himself,” pointed out Decker. “But get a lawyer, okay? A good one.”

  Davidson laughed, a bitter expression on his features.

  “What’s so funny?” asked White.

  “I wonder if Dennis Langley is available? I hear he’s really good.”

  “But he also might have a conflict,” said Decker.

  “Why? Because he and Julia dated?”

  Decker didn’t answer. But he thought, No, because he might be a suspect, too.

  Chapter 65

  A​ROUND FOUR THIRTY THAT DAY Decker and White stood near the football field and watched Tyler run his routes and catch balls thrown to him by what looked to be a coach.

  “Funny time to be doing that,” opined White.

  “Actually, it makes perfect sense. This is his comfort zone.”

  “You think he knows about his dad?” she asked.

  “Oh yeah. That’s why he’s here.”

  As they stood there another young man walked over to them. He was about six-two and weighed around two thirty, beefy in the legs, core, and shoulders. He was wearing Under Armour gear and was sweating profusely.

  “You guys waiting to talk to Tyler?” he said.

  “Yeah,” replied Decker. “We’re with the FBI. Who are you?”

  “Drew James. I’m on the team with Tyler. Left tackle.”

  “You got the blindside then, unless your QB’s left-handed.”

  “He’s not. I am the blindside tackle. Just finished up in the weight room.”

  “Never stops, does it?” said Decker.

  “Not if you want to play in college.” He stared out at the field where Tyler was running hard. “Tyler’s got a chance at the big time, D1 Top Ten. I’m not nearly big enough for the O-line at a D1 college, and I can’t play another position. And I don’t have the frame to grow much more. I’m shooting for a decent D2 scholarship.”

  “You make it sound like a business,” noted White.

  “I just want my business degree,” said James. “No way I can go pro. I’d have to grow three more inches and put on a hundred pounds and be a lot more athletic than I am.”

  “Tyler doesn’t think he can make the jump to the NFL, either,” said Decker.

  James leaned on the fence and watched Tyler run routes. “I think he has a shot. Or did.”

  “What do you mean by that?” asked Decker.

  “Tyler is super focused with discipline like nothing I’ve seen. His mom was a big part of that. She really believed in him. Now? He’s out here, but I think he’s just burning off some shit in his head. He usually does two hours in the weight room five days a week. He hasn’t been in at all lately. And he didn’t run with us the morning she died and hasn’t since. And we used to all go surfing a couple times a week. But he hasn’t done that in more than a month.”

  “Why do you think that was?” asked White.

  “I think he’s worried about his dad.”

  “Why?”

  James looked at them. “Look, I don’t want to get anybody in trouble.”

  “Just tell us what you know,” prompted White. “It goes no further.”

  James looked back out at the field, his elbows resting on the fence top. “His dad never got over his mom. Tyler said his dad would sneak over there just to watch her.”

  “Is that right?” said White, shooting a glance at Decker.

  “And he was seeing all these young girls, but Tyler said his dad really had no interest in them. Tyler thinks he was just trying to make his mom jealous. He’d get drunk at night and cry about the divorce. I think it took a lot out of Tyler. I mean, a lot. He’d have to sit with his dad and listen to that. He’s only seventeen; he’s not going to know how to handle stuff like that.”

  Decker studied him. “It’s rough what he’s going through, for sure.”

  “Kid shouldn’t have to be a parent, too,” chimed in White.

  “You ever been over to Tyler’s condo?” Decker asked him.

  “Sure, lots of times.” He grinned. “The girls his dad dates? I don’t mind hanging out with them.”

  “His dad conducts his business from there.”

  “Yeah, even before COVID, he did that. He has clients all over the place, and he can’t travel to see them all so he does it online. I listened to him practice what he would say to clients sometimes. Tyler said his dad would record it, play it back, and then, you know, improve on it. Get it just right before he did it for real. He told me that’s what separates the winners from the losers.” He looked out at the field. “Sort of what Tyler is doing right now. So maybe his dad was teaching him some good stuff, too. Practice makes perfect.”

  “Right,” said Decker.

  “Yeah. Well, see ya. I gotta go do my protein shakes.” James walked off.

  Tyler glanced over and saw them watching, White impatiently and Decker with interest. But he kept running his routes for another half hour.

  He finished up and jogged over to them, toweled off, and guzzled down a bottle of water.

  Decker said, “You’ve already made improvements on the dominant leg issue. Your cuts are more balanced, sharper, and cleaner.”

  Breathing hard, Tyler stared at them in anger. “You arrested my dad. That’s bullshit.”

  “Evidence says otherwise.”

  “Fuck evidence. My dad never left the condo.”

  “It looks like at least his gun did,” observed White.

  “I’m telling you, I heard him there pretty much all night.”

  “Talk to me about the gun,” said Decker.