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?”