“My wife and Julia were very... close.”
“So I understand. I’m sorry.”
“Do you... what in the hell happened?”
“As I said, someone killed her and her bodyguard. We have no suspects yet. How long have you and your wife been out of town?”
“For the last week. We were visiting some of Maya’s children in New York. From her previous marriage,” he added.
“When was the last time you spoke to or saw Judge Cummins?”
Trevor put his coffee cup on a side table. “I think I saw her a couple of days before we left. Just in passing. Just to say hello. Maya may have seen or talked to her before we left.” He looked up at Decker, his face taut. “How... was she... killed?”
“I can’t get into that. I understand that you recommended Gamma Protection Services to Judge Cummins?”
His voice breaking, Trevor said, “Y-yes, w-we did.”
“Why was that?”
He sipped his coffee and composed himself. “Maya was a lawyer. A defense attorney. No lawyer wins every case. One she lost involved a man accused of sexually assaulting his wife and children. He was sent to prison. But he got out about six months ago. He apparently didn’t think Maya had done a good enough job. He made threats. He even came by the house a couple of times. We got a restraining order. But he broke it. So we hired Gamma.”
“Was it Alan Draymont?”
“I... I don’t know. What does he look like?”
Decker produced a picture on his phone. “This is him.”
Trevor looked at it and shook his head. “I don’t know. It might be him. But it was more than one person. After a while, they blur together.”
“I can understand that. How long did you have protection?”
“For about a month, I think.”
“What happened to your wife’s old client?”
“He attacked someone living in his halfway house and nearly killed the guy. He’s back in prison awaiting another trial. Hopefully, this time they put him away for good.”
“Do you think your wife is up to talking with me now? It’ll save me having to come back.”
“Let me check.”
He went off while Decker finished his coffee. He rose and walked around the lanai.
Decker hadn’t owned a home since the one his family had been killed in. After that, he’d ended up basically living in a cardboard box in the back of a Walmart parking lot for a longer time than he cared to remember. You never think that would happen to you, until it did. And then your thinking changed measurably to, I’m never going to get out of this nightmare.
He had gained a hundred pounds from eating crap and not exercising at all. He could barely stand with the extra weight. And the only thing that saved him from remaining on the streets and probably dying there was waking up one day, seeing the cardboard ceiling of his “home,” and realizing how ashamed his wife and daughter would be of him.
His recovery had not happened overnight. It had taken nearly a year. During that time he had gone to live at a local Residence Inn, and used the dining area as the office of his fledgling detective business.
When the first few clients came to him, he knew they were repulsed by what they saw in him. A huge, hulking, not overly clean man with a thick beard and nothing approaching an outgoing and engaging manner. The only thing that saved him was the fact that Decker was damn good at his job. He could figure out just about anything.
I hope that holds for this case.
“Agent Decker?” said a woman’s voice.
He turned to see the Perlmans at the entrance to the lanai. Trevor was holding his wife’s hand. She looked pale but collected.
“I’m sorry about... what happened earlier.”
“No need to apologize. It was a shock, I know. I won’t take too much more time. Just a few questions if you’re up to it.”
They sat down across from him.
“When was the last time you saw or spoke to Judge Cummins?”
“I talked to her on the phone right before we left for New York, so about nine days ago. I was just giving her our travel details, in case of emergency. We always did that with each other.”
“And the last time you actually saw her?”
“A couple of days before that. We had a drink, down near the courthouse.”
“Did she seem okay, nothing troubling her?”
“No, she was fine.”
“You practiced at that court?”
“Yes, but never before Julia, of course.”
“I understand from your husband that a former client threatened you?”
“Yes, Gerald Garvey. He’s the sort that gives defense attorneys a bad name. I knew he was guilty, but he was entitled to legal representation. I got him a sweetheart deal, but he didn’t see it that way.”
“And you hired Gamma Protection?”
“Yes.”
“How did you hear of them?”
“I think it was someone at the courthouse. Plus, they’re a well-known firm.”
“Did you know Alan Draymont? Your husband didn’t know if he was one of the people who guarded you.”
Decker held up the picture of Draymont.
“Yes, he looks familiar. But, as you alluded to, there were several different people who protected us. Men and women. I don’t remember all their names. They had credentials and everything, and we were sent a secure email with their names and pictures to verify their identities.”
“Can you look up those emails?”
Trevor interjected, “Surely, you can get those details from Gamma?”
“You’d think, wouldn’t you? But they’re having some personnel problems right now.”
She said, “I can look later. Right now, I just need to go lie down. This has been a terrible shock.”
She rose and her husband stood with her. “I think that’s all for now,” he said.
He escorted Decker to the door and closed it firmly behind him.
Decker took in the sunshine and felt the warmth and heard the ocean and then the thwack of a golf ball from somewhere. On a cart path that cut through the trees, two people in their sixties rode past on bikes and waved at another couple drifting by from the other direction on their spiffy, decked-out golf cart. They all looked happy, content.
Decker walked back to his car.
I’m never moving here.
Chapter 30
As he was about to drive off, his phone buzzed. He didn’t recognize the number.
“Decker.”
“Please hold for Ms. Roe.”
A moment later a familiar voice said, “Mr. Decker, it’s Kasimira Roe. I wonder if we can meet?”
“I’m game. We didn’t really finish the first time, did we?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“At your office?”
“No, at my home. It’s on Miami Beach. I’ll switch you back to my assistant and she can provide the address.”
“When?”
“As soon as you can get here.”
“Anything particular you want to discuss?”
“Just get here as soon as you can. I’ll transfer you back.”
Decker got the address, plugged it into his phone, and set off once more for Miami.
The high-rise looked ultramodern and expensive and super chic, thought Decker, which meant he hated it. He half expected Justin Bieber, or some other young celebrity he really knew nothing about, to walk out dressed in torn jeans that cost more than Decker had in his checking account and jump into a Lamborghini.
He cleared security after both the guard and concierge ran unimpressed gazes over his rumpled and distinctly uncool clothes and deeply scuffed shoes.
And this is my nice stuff.
He rode the elevator up and walked to a double set of white doors at the end of a wide hall.