it to him at the prison. He recognized them right off.”
“Did you suggest that he tell the authorities?”
She shook her head. “That was Chuck’s idea. But I thought it was the right thing to do. One way he could, you know, make up for what he’d done a little.”
Decker looked around the space, his mind taking snapshots of everything he was seeing. “After your husband is executed what are your plans?”
She snorted. “Ain’t got none. I live here and can barely make the rent. I work at the grocery store and then have a second job at the McDonald’s down the road.”
“Your son lives with you?” asked Decker.
She nodded. “Tommy. He’s a good boy. He’ll do all right.”
“His father said he was a good ballplayer.”
She nodded. “Yeah, he is.”
“He doesn’t visit his dad?”
She looked at him crossly. “No. Why should he?”
“It was good of you to stick by your husband through all this,” noted Jamison.
“We had some good times together. A few good times. And he is Tommy’s dad. And I blame the damn government. Chuck fights for his country, gets a chunk of his head torn out, and what’d they do for him? Nothing. Now that’s a damn crime, if you ask me.”
“I think you’d find a lot of people to agree with you on that,” observed Davenport.
“Anything else you can tell us?” asked Bogart.
“I don’t know nothing else.” She looked at her watch. “And I got to get to work. My shift starts in about twenty minutes.”
She walked them to the door and shut it firmly behind them.
Bogart looked at Decker. “Okay, what now?”
“Now we go see the Howling Cougars.”
* * *
The rain had started to fall more steadily as they approached the high school that Decker had located on his phone.
“What are we doing here?” asked Bogart.
“You mentioned the Howling Cougars?” said Davenport.
Decker nodded. “The pictures at Regina Montgomery’s. Her son was in his Howling Cougars football jersey.”
“Okay, so you want to talk to him, but he’s never visited his father,” pointed out Jamison.
“I don’t want to ask him about his father.”
Bogart parked in the visitors’ parking lot and they went into the office. A few minutes later they were headed to the gym with the assistant principal.
“Tommy has finished his classes for the day,” said the man as they walked down the corridor. “But the team is doing some work in the gym.”
“But isn’t football season over?” asked Bogart.
The man smiled. “This is Alabama. Football season is never really over. And we won the conference championship this season. The boys want to repeat next year. Just getting in some extra work.”
He left them in the gym after speaking to the coach, who brought Tommy Montgomery over a minute later.
He was a good-looking kid, taller than his father, with broad shoulders and thick arms and thicker legs.
He looked at them all with unfriendly eyes. “Coach said you’re here about my old man.”
“That’s right,” said Bogart.
“I got nothing to say about him, ’cause I don’t know him. He was never around. I’ll be glad when they do him. Then he’s outta my life for good.”
Decker looked over at the other players, who were going through some formation reps.
“What position do you play?” asked Decker.
Tommy looked up at him. “Why? You know anything about football?”
“A little. You’re undersized for the O or D line. Linebacker too. But you’ve got length in your arms and legs. And your calves are rocks, your thighs are ripped, and your fingers are callused. You touch the ball a lot and you run farther than the line of scrimmage. You’re either a safety or a tailback or a receiver.”
Tommy appraised him in a different light. “You did play ball. I’m a tailback.”
Jamison said proudly, “Decker here played at Ohio State. And then with the Cleveland Browns.”
Tommy’s jaw dropped. “Damn, really?”
Decker said, “What’s your best running play?”
“We call it the firecracker. Fake the A-gap blast to the fullback, pitch to me on the left edge. I cut back to the B-gap and then make a stutter to clear the line and let the tight end do a cutback scrape on the backer, then I hit the corner and I’m gone. Always good for at least ten yards until the safety makes the tackle. We run it on third and long because the box ain’t stacked and the secondary’s playing cover-two soft thinking we’re gonna pass.”
“I didn’t understand a single word of that,” said a bemused Davenport.
“If it makes you feel any better, neither did I,” commented Bogart.
Decker glanced over at the other players running a formation. “So you obviously run the tight end on that side if his job is to scrape the backer.”
“Yep,” said Tommy. “Extra blocker.”
“Right, but he’s not being properly utilized.” He looked back at Tommy. “Okay, tell your coach to scratch the stutter. The blast would’ve frozen the interior lineman anyway, so don’t waste the time. And you want to hit the B-gap at speed. You let the left tackle crash down to seal the edge, the guard comes around to do the scrape on the backer, that allows the tight end to release, and you follow his butt down the field. He engages the safety with his left shoulder if the guy comes up and tries to make a play, and forces him to the outside while you push off hard to the inside. If the corner’s in soft cover two he probably will have already committed to the outside edge because of the pitch, and you’ll have a receiver on him blocking, so you don’t have to worry much about him. If you’ve got decent wheels, you’re home free down the seam for a lot more than ten yards. Maybe end zone if you’re fast enough to beat the angle the other safety takes.”
Tommy broke into a broad grin. “Damn, man, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. You got any scholarship offers?”
“I’ve been starting since my freshman year. I’ll be a senior next year and I’ve already got three offers, two from D-ones and one from a D-two.”
“That’s great. Good for you. Look, we talked to your mom. About her future. After your dad…” Decker let his voice trail off and he stared expectantly at Tommy.
“Yeah.”
“And then you’ll be off in a year. I hope she’ll be able to make ends meet.”
“Oh, she’ll be okay. With the money and all.”
Bogart started to say something, but Decker said, “Right, the money. She started to tell us about that, but then she had to go to work.”
“Yeah, it’s a lot. Enough for her to be okay.”
“That’s what she said. Do you know from where?”
“Insurance. My scumball father had a life insurance policy. Go figure.”
“And it pays off even if he’s to be executed?” asked Bogart.
“Yeah. I mean, that’s what Mom said.”
“So a lot of money,” said Decker. “Do you know how much?”
“Not exactly, no. But she said she’d be moving away from here after I graduate and then settle down wherever I go to college. She’s going to buy a place and not have to work.” He paused. “I mean, she’s always been there for me, you know. Most guys probably don’t want their moms around when they’re at college, but…it’s been rough, you know and she’s…you know what I mean?” he finished looking a little embarrassed.
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Decker. “Good luck with your ballplaying.” He tapped his temple. “And never lead with your head. It’s not worth it.”
They left Tommy there and walked back out to the car.
“How did you know, Decker?” said Davenport.
“Know what?”
“That Regina Montgomery was coming into money?”
“I didn’t know until he told me. But I
suspected it.”
“But why did you suspect it?” asked Bogart.
“Because dead people have absolutely no use for cash.”
CHAPTER
20
CHARLES MONTGOMERY WAS in court today in Alabama and gave an allocution to the judge that he killed your parents.”
Decker tapped his hand on the arm of his chair as he sat looking at Melvin Mars, who was finishing a full week of rehab at a facility attached to the hospital.
Mars looked pretty much normal. The swelling was gone, along with the soreness. The docs had given him a clean bill of health. He was to be released the following day.
Mars put down the weights he had been lifting and toweled off his face.
“So what does that mean exactly?”
“It’s a formal statement under oath that what he said is true. It included specific details about the murders of your parents.”
“And the court accepted it?”
Decker nodded.
He had come here today by himself. He wanted some time alone with Mars.
“So what now?”
Decker said, “That statement has been forwarded to the court here in Texas that has jurisdiction over your case. The court will review it and then make a determination.”
“What about the people who actually prosecuted me?”
“They’ve retired. But the state lawyers are in the loop and they are also considering everything. If they come down on the side of believing Montgomery and throw their support to you, then I don’t think the court has any choice but to set you free. Pretty much immediately.”
Mars wrapped the towel around his neck, his muscles straining against the tight T-shirt, and sat down opposite Decker.
“How long you reckon all that will take?”
“I can’t imagine that long.”
“What was he like?” Mars asked quietly.
“Who, Montgomery?”
Mars nodded, his gaze on the floor.
“Probably like a lot of guys you’ve known in prison.”
“So just a screwed-up asshole looking to hurt people?”
“He was a Vietnam vet. Said stuff over there gave him headaches. Couldn’t take the pain. Turned to crime to pay for the drugs because the VA wouldn’t help him.”
“But why’d he kill my parents?”
“You really want to hear this? It can’t change anything.”
Mars glanced up at him. “Tell me.”
“Wrong place, wrong time. Montgomery tried to pawn stuff at your dad’s shop. He said your dad wasn’t buying, maybe dissed him. He got pissed, followed him home, wanted money, but your dad told him he was only the clerk there, that the owner put the money in the bank every night. So…he did what he did, using your shotgun he found in your room. And that gas can in the garage.”
Mars studied the floor. “And you believe him?”
“He had details only the person there would’ve known.”
Mars looked up again. “But do you believe he did it?”
Decker said nothing.
“So you don’t believe him, then?”
“Doesn’t matter what I believe. It matters what the truth is.”
“And that doesn’t come close to answering my question,” Mars said irritably. “Why do you have to make everything so damn hard, Decker?”
“My job is to find the truth, Melvin. I told you that the first time I met you. Right now, I don’t believe anybody.”
“Including me?”
“With you, I’m getting there. Faster than I normally do.” He added, “It’s probably because you’re so lovable.”
Mars laughed. “Didn’t think you had a sense of humor.”
“I don’t. You must be rubbing off on me.”
“So where do I go while all this stuff is being decided?”
“A safe house maintained by the FBI. It’s in Austin.”
“Haven’t been back to Austin since I played at UT.”
“I figured.” Decker paused. “Got a question for you.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“I read your mother’s full autopsy report.”
Mars stiffened as he looked warily at Decker. “And what? Did you see something off?”
“I saw that the coroner concluded that your mother had terminal brain cancer.”
Mars nearly toppled off the stool. He managed to keep his balance by slamming a hand down on the floor and righting himself.
“I can tell from your reaction that you didn’t know.”
“That’s bullshit,” exclaimed Mars.
“Not according to the report. There were pictures of the tumor. I won’t show them to you because the shotgun blast had done a lot of damage. Stage Four, pretty much always fatal. It’s what Ted Kennedy died of.”
Mars was staring at the floor, his eyes wide in disbelief. “She never said anything to me. Nothing.”
“Did she show any signs of being sick?”
Mars pressed the towel against his face and began to sob into it.
Decker, unprepared for this, sat back and simply waited.
When the sobs finally subsided, Mars rubbed his face dry and slowly sat up, his chest still heaving.
“She’d lost weight. Didn’t have much of an appetite. And she had headaches. Migraines, she said.”
“Did she ever go to a hospital? Receive any treatment?”
“I can’t believe this. She had brain cancer and they didn’t tell me? She was dying and they didn’t think to mention it to their only child?”
“I know this is a shock, Melvin. But if she’d started treatment you would have known, right?”
“I don’t know. I was gone a lot. But she didn’t lose her hair or nothing like that. I would’ve noticed that.”
“Was she still working at the end?”
Mars looked up. “No. Dad said he wanted her to take a break. I just thought it was because of the money I’d be getting. I never…” His voice trailed away.
“Would they have gone to a doctor in town?”
“I guess. They had their dentist. And Mom used a chiropractor sometimes. All the work she did made her stiff.”
“Do you know the name of the doctor?”
“No.” He paused. “I guess back then it was all about me, Decker. I really didn’t have that much to do with my parents. I was so busy with football. But…but I still loved them. I was going to take care of them. But…shit.”