The Last Mile

Chapter 23

That was the longest few minutes of my life,” said Davenport, who still looked gray and nauseous.

They were sitting around a table in the lobby of the hotel where they were staying near the prison.

Decker shot her a glance. “Imagine how it was for Montgomery.”

She looked at him and turned a bit pink in the face. “I know. I didn’t mean it that way. It was just... horrible.”

Although Jamison hadn’t attended, she seemed as distraught and subdued as the others. “Did they confirm he was actually dead?”

Bogart nodded wearily. “By law they have to. The doctor came in and did his tests. Montgomery was pronounced dead at five minutes past the hour. Regina Montgomery was revived and checked out by a doctor at the prison. Then a state trooper drove her home.”

Decker turned to Mars, who hadn’t said a word since they had left the prison. He looked like he had no idea where he was.

“You okay?” Decker asked.

Mars shook his head. “Dude was on fire,” he said dully.

“That’s why they don’t use the chair anymore,” said Decker. “Too many things can go wrong. I think the state of Alabama should stop giving the condemned a choice.”

Davenport said fiercely, “Or better yet, just abolish capital punishment.” She looked at Mars. “They came close to executing you, an innocent man. That’s reason enough just to do away with it. There are no second chances.”

Mars nodded curtly and looked away.

Bogart said, “Well, that’s way above my pay grade and not an argument we’re going to settle tonight. I think we all need to get some sleep and then regroup tomorrow.” He looked at Decker. “What else did you want to do while we’re here?”

“Talk to Regina Montgomery again. We need to find out where the money came from.”

“She’s not going to willingly tell us anything,” pointed out Jamison. “She almost kicked us out last time.”

“But she might slip up, or by not telling us something she might just answer our questions.”

Bogart rose. “Well, again, nothing else is going to happen tonight. So let’s just call it an early evening. I don’t think I’m good for anything else. Witnessing an execution leaves you utterly drained, at least it does me.”

Bogart headed off and a still shaky Davenport followed.

As Jamison was about to leave, Decker snagged her by the arm.

“Hold up, Alex.”

“What is it?”

Decker looked first at her and then at Mars. “You two up to going somewhere? Right now? Because I don’t think that we should wait.”

They knocked for a long time, and only when it was clear that they weren’t going to leave did Regina Montgomery answer the door. She stood there defiantly in the doorway still dressed in the clothes she had worn to the execution.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

Decker said, “We just had some questions for you.”

“My husband was executed tonight. Can’t you leave me in peace!” she added shrilly.

“I can understand how you feel, Mrs. Montgomery, but I wouldn’t be here unless I thought it really important. Can we come in? It won’t take more than a few minutes.”

She looked at Jamison, and then her gaze fell on Mars and her face twisted in disgust.

“What, you mean him too?”

“Him especially,” said Decker. “He’s—”

“I know who the hell he is! I just... I mean I don’t have...”

Decker said, “It’ll only be a few minutes. And since this pertains to Mr. Mars, he needs to be included. Please, Mrs. Montgomery.”

Jamison stepped forward and took the woman by the hand. “Let’s just go in and sit. Have you had anything to eat? Maybe a cup of tea to help settle your nerves? I can only imagine what you’ve had to deal with today. I’m so sorry.”

“I... that would be... I can’t eat anything, but some hot tea. Yes.”

“Just show me where and I’ll fix it right up.”

Jamison smoothly steered Montgomery inside while Decker and Mars followed. When Jamison turned around, Decker shot her an appreciative look.

After Regina Montgomery showed Jamison where things were in the kitchen, she and Mars settled around a coffee table in the small, cluttered living room. Back in the kitchen Jamison put a kettle on the cooktop to heat up the water. Then she found a cup and a box of tea bags. While the water was heating she rejoined them.

When she sat down across from Montgomery, Jamison’s gaze flitted over Montgomery and held briefly on her wrist. She looked surprised.

Montgomery was staring at Decker. “Well?” she said crossly.

“Is your son here?” asked Decker.

“No,” she said sharply. “He’s staying at a friend’s. I thought it best. No reason for him to have to deal with... this.”

“That was a good idea.”

She glanced at Mars sitting next to Decker and her mouth curved into a frown.

Mars stared right back at her. He seemed about to say something when Decker spoke.

“Tommy told us about the insurance money.”

She was startled by this. “What? When did you — how did you know where he was?”

“Howling Cougars,” said Decker, pointing to the photo on the table across from them.

“Well, so what? Chuck had life insurance. I’m the beneficiary. Nothing wrong with that.”

“For thirty thousand dollars?”

She jerked again. “Who told you that?” she demanded.

“We’re the FBI, Mrs. Montgomery, we can find out things.”

The teakettle whistle blew. Jamison rose and went into the kitchen to prepare the tea. She poured it into a cup and then, looking around for some crackers, pulled aside a curtain covering a small niche in the kitchen. What she saw inside made her start. She snagged a box of crackers and some peanut butter off a shelf, and walked back over to the sink.

“Hey, Decker?” she called out. “Can you give me a hand? I know Mrs. Montgomery doesn’t need us to be here any longer than necessary.”

A bit put out by her request, Decker rose and went into the kitchen. While Jamison was spreading peanut butter over the crackers she jerked her head toward the open curtain. “Check that out,” she said quietly.

Decker turned, saw what was there, and glanced quickly at Jamison, who hiked her eyebrows. “And there’s something else I saw,” she said.

A minute later they came back into the room, Jamison with the tea and Decker with the plate of peanut butter crackers. They placed them in front of Montgomery, who was staring stonily at Mars.

“Thank you,” she said. She took a sip of the tea and nibbled at a cracker, her gaze now downcast.

While Montgomery was doing that, Jamison glanced around the room and her gaze fixed on a coat tree by the front door. This time she didn’t look surprised.

Montgomery put her teacup down. “Why do you care about the insurance money?”

Decker said, “Tommy also said that you were planning to move from here to wherever he ended up going to college. That you were going to buy a place and not have to work.”

Montgomery didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then she waved her hand dismissively. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. I am planning to move to where he goes to college. But I’ll have to work. And I sure as hell won’t be buying a house. Thirty thousand dollars isn’t enough for me to stay home and twiddle my thumbs.”

“So you will have to work?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Yes, I’ll have to work. Do I look rich to you? I’ve been working my ass off all my life. Work till I drop, unless Tommy makes it to the NFL, and then he can take care of me.”

Mars said, “I wouldn’t bank on that. It’s like a one-in-a-million chance.”

She eyed him. “You played football, so I heard.”

“It’s a rough sport. Tell Tommy to be a doctor or lawyer instead. He’ll have a much healthier retirement.”

“I’m sure you’re mad at my husband, but he did come forward. Only reason you’re out of jail.”

“He was the reason I was in jail,” countered Mars. “He murdered my parents. So excuse me for not feeling grateful.”

She shook her head and mumbled something like, “You people.”

Decker placed a restraining hand on Mars’s shoulder, since it looked like the man was about to jump to his feet. “When do you get the insurance money?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“I told you I just had a few questions, Mrs. Davenport. The sooner you answer them the sooner we’re out of here. The reverse is also true.”

She picked up her tea, took a sip, ate a cracker, and then said, “I have to file the claim. It might take a few days, or maybe a week. It’s not like they won’t have proof he’s dead.”

“Right.” Decker looked at Jamison and nodded.

Jamison pointed to Montgomery’s wrist. “That’s a beautiful watch. Cartier, isn’t it?”

Montgomery immediately covered it with her other hand. “No, it’s not.”

“It says Cartier on the watch face,” pointed out Jamison.

She looked down at her hand. “I got it for like ten bucks.”

“Where?”

“I forgot.”

“It’s against the law to traffic in knockoffs,” said Decker.

“So find the person who sold it to me and arrest him.”

Decker rose, went into the kitchen, pulled the curtain aside, lifted up the boxes stacked there, and brought them back into the room and set them on the floor.

Montgomery jumped to her feet. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t do that. Those are mine.”

“Chanel. Neiman Marcus. Saks. Bergdorf Goodman. Jimmy Choo. They all make very nice stuff. And very expensive.”

Jamison pointed to a bag hanging on the coat tree by the front door. “And that’s an Hermès bag. I wish I could afford one.”

Montgomery turned pale. “They’re all fakes. I can’t afford none of that.”

Decker said, “I wasn’t aware that fraudsters shipped their goods in boxes with the names of the brands on the side. They usually just sell them on the street.”

Montgomery said nothing to this. She took another sip of tea and ate another cracker.

“Can I look inside the boxes?” asked Decker.

“No!”

“Why not?”

“You got a search warrant?”

“Actually, I don’t need one.”

She looked wide-eyed at him. “Why not?”

“I used to be a police officer but I turned in my badge.”

“But you’re with the FBI!”

“As a civilian, not an agent. Never badged or sworn in.”

Despite Montgomery’s protests, Decker opened the boxes and snapped photos of the contents with his phone camera. Then he leaned down so his face was only a few inches away from Montgomery’s. “We can easily trace all of these purchases. And since you already told us you haven’t received the insurance money yet, that can’t be the source of the funds. So why don’t you tell us the truth, Mrs. Montgomery? How did you come by the money?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

“Do you really want to play it that way?”

“Get out of my house.”

Mars said, “Somebody paid you off to have your husband lie and say he killed my parents. Who was it?”

She looked at him and said fiercely, “Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that? You are nothing but—”

“But what?” interrupted Mars. “A colored boy who should keep his mouth shut ’round good white folks like you?”

“Get out of my house!” she screamed.

“I lost twenty years of my life!” Mars screamed right back.

Montgomery looked at Decker. “Get out of my house before I call the cops.”

Decker said, “You can call the cops. And then we’ll tell them what we know. And we’ll find out about the money you’ve come by and why. And then you’re going to be in a world of trouble. In fact, you’re going to go to prison.”

She looked stunned by this. “I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

“Try obstruction of justice. Conspiracy. Aiding and abetting a murderer.”

“I did not!”

“By helping those who really did kill the Marses, you did. And the cumulative penalties for all those crimes means you won’t have to worry about following your son to college. Your housing will be provided by the government.” He paused momentarily. “For the rest of your life.”

Regina Montgomery looked like she might faint again. She took several deep breaths and said, “Get outta my house.”

Decker said, “Have it your way. We’ll be back tomorrow. With the police.” He pulled out his phone. “Say cheese.” He took a photo of the Cartier watch.

“Get out!” she screamed. She started to throw the cup of tea at Decker, but Jamison caught her by the arm and the cup fell out of her hand and hit the floor, shattering. As they walked out, Decker took a photo of the Hermès bag.

Outside Jamison looked at Decker.

“She’s guilty as hell.”

“Yes, she is. By the way, that was really good work in there, Alex,” said Decker.

She smiled. “I have my moments, especially when it has to do with high fashion.”

Mars added, “You were right, Decker, somebody did pay her off.”

“Now we just have to find out who.”