“Yes. I was pretty shocked that you asked that.”
“I did it because I wanted to know the lay of the land.”
“The lay of the land?” said Milligan, looking supremely confused. “Come on, Decker, it’s like you’re speaking in tongues.”
“I don’t think Roy loved Melvin, but Lucinda did. I think Lucinda knew what Roy was going to do. Kill her to spare her from suffering with the brain cancer. They probably planned that part out together. Remember, this was twenty years ago and they were in a small town, with little money, and I doubt her end would have been painless. So they made that compact. Roy would kill Reardon, Lucinda switched the dental records to cover that end. Roy cleaned out the safe deposit box. He had an argument with Lucinda in which she used the word chocha. That told me she had spent time in Cali and learned her Spanish there. It also told me that she was aware that Roy was going to pretend to be dead — a possum, in other words.”
“But if she was part of the plan, why the argument?” asked Bogart.
“Buyer’s remorse. She loved her son. She was sick, dying. Even if she knew what the plan was that doesn’t mean she had to love it. She obviously didn’t.”
“How much could she love Melvin if she let him be framed for her murder?” asked Jamison. “He spent two decades in prison.”
“Maybe his mother thought he would be safer in prison.”
This statement came from Milligan. The others looked at him.
He said, “Look at it this way, if they were afraid the cartel had found them through the ESPN piece — maybe they’d actually received a warning or threat — then they knew if they didn’t disappear their death warrant was signed. But how could Melvin disappear with them? The guy was a college superstar, everyone knew him. He was going to be drafted, play in the NFL. They could sneak off and fade away, but not him. Yet they couldn’t leave him behind because the cartel would come and either kill him or torture him for information about his parents and then kill him.”
Bogart said, “But the cartel could have reached him in prison.”
Milligan replied, “Yeah, but not as easily as him being on the street. It was probably the lesser of two evils. But they also might have thought the cartel would believe that in prison Melvin was no threat to them. And if they believed he had killed his parents then they might have assumed that Roy and Lucinda had told him nothing about the cartel and their secrets,” he added.
Decker appraised the man. “Agent Milligan, nice reasoning.”
Milligan grinned. “Thanks. And Decker, you can call me Todd. We are on the same team.”
Jamison said, “Well, I’m not buying it.”
They all looked at her.
She continued, “To protect your son you frame him for murder? And he gets the death penalty? Yeah, a real softer option.”
Milligan said, “I’m not saying it’s the right answer, Jamison. I’m just saying it’s possible.”
Bogart said, “Okay, for argument’s sake, let’s suppose it’s true. Then why did Roy come back and do what he did to get Melvin out?”
“Melvin was going to be executed,” said Decker immediately. “And I’m thinking that Roy made a promise to his wife that if that ever came to be he would step in and save Melvin. And he did.”
Jamison said, “That’s what you were referring to when you said a promise had been made?”
Decker nodded.
“All these years later?” asked Bogart. “He might have died, and then Melvin would have been up shit creek.”
“But he didn’t die. And he did fulfill the promise.”
“In a way he must have loved his wife very much,” said Jamison.
“I believe that he did,” said Decker. “I can only imagine what it took to pull the trigger on that shotgun and end her life. Even if he knew he was sparing her six months of agony.”
“Could you really do that to someone you loved?” asked Milligan skeptically.
“I think you could only do that to someone you really loved,” said Decker. “It would be the hardest thing you ever had to do, but you would do it because of that love. And I think a part of Roy Mars died that night. The only positive thing in his life was gone.”
“And Melvin?” asked Jamison.
“Father did not love his son. He was sorry for what he was about to do. Remember he told Melvin he was sorry that night? It was for the mother’s sake, not the son’s. But there’s something off there, only I can’t figure out what. So now the question becomes, where is Roy Mars?”
“Wait a minute,” said Jamison. “Maybe the cartel isn’t even involved in this. Like Todd said, after forty years they could all be dead. Roy paid off Montgomery, got Melvin off, and then killed Regina. He could be the only one out there.”
Decker shook his head. “Then who kidnapped Davenport?”
“Roy?” offered Jamison.
“Why?”
She started to say something but then stopped. “I don’t know why.”
“There is someone else out there. But Melvin getting out of prison triggered their interest.”
“Do you think they believe that Roy Mars is actually alive?” asked Milligan.
“Maybe, and/or that Melvin getting out of prison has once more piqued their interest about whatever was in that safe deposit box. They may hope he can lead them to it, like I suggested before.”
“So if the cartel took Davenport?” said Jamison slowly.
Milligan and Bogart exchanged glances.
Bogart said, “I won’t try to sugarcoat this. The odds of us getting her back safely don’t look very good.”
“So how do we find Roy Mars?” asked Milligan, breaking an awkward silence.
Decker said, “Well, I’m convinced he’s close by. So one way or another we might just run into each other.”
“You’re joking of course,” said Milligan.
Decker didn’t answer.
Chapter 49
Decker was walking in a gray drizzle along the same route that he and Mars had earlier taken. His thoughts had turned to another facet of the case. One way to find Roy Mars was to figure out his connection to Charles Montgomery. If Mars had paid off Regina, then he had to have some connection to the Montgomerys. He hadn’t picked them out of the blue. There had to be a reason. And that answer might lie in the man’s past.
Charles Montgomery had not told them all of the crimes of which he’d been accused. This was understandable since the list was lengthy. But Decker had done some digging.
Montgomery had come back stateside and left the Army in March 1967. In January 1968 he had been arrested in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, for driving while intoxicated and for possession of marijuana. Bail had been posted and he’d skipped town. A month later he’d been stopped in Cain, Mississippi, for illegal possession of a stolen gun and drunk and disorderly. Again he’d posted bail, and again he’d skipped town. The crimes had not been serious enough to warrant much of a follow-up, and he apparently had never returned to either state until shooting the Alabama state trooper. And back then there was no central database for cops across state lines. But the crimes were relatively minor and the police no doubt had more pressing matters to claim their time than chasing a petty criminal.
In his mind Decker listed the offenses in chronological order:
DUI and pot possession in Alabama.
A stolen gun and drunk and disorderly in Mississippi.
Bail posted each time.
And he’d skipped town each time.
There was no reason to think it important, but as the drizzle hit him, Decker couldn’t think it unimportant, he just didn’t know why.
He went back to his room and sat in his chair and stared out the window at the gathering gloom. It was barely five in the evening and it looked and felt like midnight. His energy just seemed sapped. If this weather kept up they might all well drown without even stepping into the water.