The Last Mile

Chapter 9

Two hours later the meeting ended and plans were made to reconvene the next day. As they left the building, Davenport caught up to Decker and Jamison. Bogart had stayed behind for a few minutes to talk to Milligan.

“Do you two have time for a drink?” asked Davenport, her gaze swiveling between the pair. “There’s a place about a five-minute drive from the base.”

Jamison looked uncertain. “We drove over with Agent Bogart.”

“He can meet us there. I can text him. I just wanted to talk about the case some more before tomorrow. Then he or I can drive you back. I have a car.”

Jamison looked at Decker. “You okay with that?”

Decker said, “Does the bar serve food? I didn’t have any lunch.”

“Absolutely,” Davenport said, running her gaze over Decker’s large physique.

“Let’s go, then,” he said.

It was called, aptly, The Dive. A hangout for soldiers and cops and rednecks and the occasional suit.

Decker’s party took a table in the back, farthest away from the bar, which was already loud and crowded on New Year’s Day. A digital jukebox blasted away.

Davenport snagged a seat right next to Decker, while Jamison sat across from them. They had a fourth chair for Bogart, whom Davenport had texted. He said he would meet them there in about twenty minutes.

They ordered beers and some snacks. Decker got a mound of chili, chips, and cheese for himself. Davenport had some flatbread and Jamison French onion soup.

Davenport said, “I thought the first meeting went well, although Milligan seemed a bit brusque.”

“Territorial,” noted Jamison. “I’m not sure he’s into us outsiders being involved in FBI investigations.”

“Well, he’s going to have to get used to it,” replied Davenport. She took a sip of beer and studied Decker, who had already dug into his chip mound.

“That was quite impressive what you did back there, Amos. Do you mind if I call you Amos?”

Decker swallowed some of his food. Without looking at her he said, “I didn’t want to waste time on a case of no interest. And you can call me Amos.”

“But you are interested in the Melvin Mars case, clearly.”

“Yes.”

“When you were talking about the case you said you played football against him in college. Is that what piqued your interest? Or was it the fact that his case parallels what happened to you in Burlington? You didn’t mention that in the meeting.”

Decker slowly lifted his gaze from his food to look at Davenport, as Jamison stared suspiciously at her.

“I didn’t mention it because it had no real relevance to whether we should take the case or not,” he replied.

“Come on, Amos,” said Davenport. “A mind like yours. Hyperthymesia coupled with synesthesia due to a traumatic brain injury suffered on the football field? You’re way too smart not to see that connection.”

“Bogart told you that?” he said.

She nodded. “I got here a week ago. Gave me time to get acclimated and have some nice discussions with Ross. He had just come off the case with you, and he was generous with details, seeing as how I was joining the team and all.”

“I’m still not sure he should have told you about it,” said Jamison defensively.

Davenport held up her hands in mock surrender. “Please don’t get the wrong idea. Ross didn’t tell me everything. But enough so that I know there are parallels between the murders of Amos’s family and Melvin Mars’s parents. I think it could be a fascinating case study.”

“But he told you about my condition?” said Decker.

“Well, yes. I’m a clinical psychologist by profession, Amos, with a subspecialty in the arena of cognitive anomalies. And I actually know some of the people at the Cognitive Research Institute outside of Chicago, though this was well after you went through there.”

Decker wiped his mouth with a napkin. “But the goal would be to determine guilt or innocence in the Mars case. Nothing more. Nothing to do with my cognitive anomalies. Because I have no interest in being a ‘case study.’”

Davenport fingered her beer. “If that’s what you want. Frankly, I think it would be wasting an opportunity. But if I’ve put my foot in my mouth, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was offend you in any way. It was not my intent.”

Decker shrugged but said nothing.

A moment later Bogart walked in and joined them. He sat down and a waitress came and took his order.

After she left Bogart said, “I want to apologize for the meeting today. Milligan was out of line and I told him so. We’re not in this to fight with each other. We’re a team. And those who want to remain on the team will have to start acting like it.”

“He had a case and he argued for it,” said Decker. “I took no offense.”

“Well, he could have made his argument more professionally. The insinuation that you were somehow looking to purposefully torpedo his case was ridiculous.”

Bogart’s glass of wine arrived and he took a sip. “Lisa may have told you that I briefed her on some of what happened in Burlington.”

“She did,” said Jamison. “And she knows about Amos’s condition,” she added, a bit crossly.

If Bogart noticed her resentment, he chose to ignore it.

“And I was telling Amos that I’ve had dealings with the folks at the Cognitive Institute,” commented Davenport.

“But Ms. Davenport has assured me that my anomalies will have nothing to do with investigating the Melvin Mars case,” added Decker.

Davenport raised her beer. “Touché. And please, call me Lisa.”

Bogart said, “Mars is still in prison in Texas. It seems the first thing to do would be to go there. The place where his parents were killed is hundreds of miles west of the prison.”

“And then we have Charles Montgomery in Alabama,” said Decker.

“Exactly.”

Davenport said, “Can we learn anything about this guy before we go to see him? Is there any possible connection between Mars and this Montgomery person?”

“Well, that’s what the police are no doubt trying to determine,” said Bogart. “And let me tell all of you right off the bat, this will be very delicate. The state of Texas will not look kindly on federal intervention at this moment. Frankly, they may well question why we’re even involved. And I can’t promise that if pushback comes we can stick it out.” He looked at Decker. “The cases in the binder were all preapproved for our involvement, Amos. The Mars case obviously is not.”

“But we can still look into it,” said Decker.

“Yes. But I’ve found that as a general rule Texans do not like people from Washington, D.C., messing in their affairs.”

“Can you access all the records on the case?” said Jamison. “We should really go through all of that first. All we have is what Amos found online.”

“I can definitely make calls and see what I can do,” replied Bogart.

“Then we need to get in to see Mars,” added Davenport. “Meeting with him I can give you a better insight as to his psychological makeup.”

“Agreed,” said Bogart. He glanced at Decker. “That was a good job back there on the Morillo case, Amos. You picked up on stuff again that everyone else missed.”

Decker had been staring off and not really following the conversation. He came out of his musings and said, “We need to find out if Charles Montgomery has any family.”

“What? Why?” asked Davenport.

Decker didn’t answer her. He just stared off again, thinking.

After they finished at the bar, Jamison and Decker were dropped off at his place, where Jamison had left her car.

“So, that went reasonably well,” she said. “Although Milligan is a bit of a jerk.” She glanced at him. “What did you think?”

“I get where he’s coming from.”

“And Davenport?”

“I’m sure she’s competent.”

“But?”

“But she has her own agenda.”

“Meaning you.”

“Maybe.”

She looked him over. “There’s a men’s shop about a mile from here. It’s open until ten. I checked.”

Decker shot her a glance. “Do I really look that bad?”

“Clothes make the man.”

“I’m pretty sure whoever said that did not have me in mind.”

“Shopping always makes me think better,” she said hopefully.

“And how exactly do I pay for new clothes?”

She held up a credit card. “Bogart gave me this. For essentials. Which I confirmed includes clothes for you,” she added quickly. “And you’ll have your salary.”

Decker looked over at her. “Salary?”

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t do this for free. Didn’t you discuss money with Bogart?”

Decker let out a sigh.

“I’ll take that as a no. But I can tell you that it’s a lot more than either of us were making back in Burlington.”

“Really?” said Decker.

“Really. And if this thing works out we’ll have to get our own housing. Can’t stay on the base permanently. And you’ll need a car to replace the rental.”

“I hadn’t given any of that much thought.”

“Trust me, I could tell.”

Three hours later they walked out of the men’s clothing store with numerous outfits for Decker. Nothing had to be altered. They had mainly just bought the biggest sizes the store had — pants, shirts, shoes, socks, underwear, and a couple of jackets that were large enough to use as sails if need be.

Jamison had helped coordinate the colors and accessories and commented on all the pieces that Decker tried on. As he stood in front of the tri-mirror he had said, “I look like a whale in a two-piece suit.”

“It’s nothing you can’t work on. There’s a gym a two-minute walk from where you’re staying. And a track right next to it.”

When he came out of the dressing room in his old duds she held up a stack of workout clothes she had gathered for him, along with size fourteen tennis shoes. “Does quadruple-X work for you?” she asked.

“If they stretch enough, yeah.”

She drove Decker back to his place and helped him carry in the packages.

“I appreciate the help,” he said.

“I appreciate your giving me the opportunity.”

“What, to be my personal shopper?”

“No, to have this shot with the FBI. Bogart never would’ve extended the invitation just to me. He let me tag along so you’d come too.”

“Give yourself some credit.”

“Oh, I plan to work my ass off proving myself. But you got me in the door.”

“You really think this will work out?”

“Who knows? That’s part of the excitement.”

“I’m not sure I need any more excitement in my life.”

“Then I think you came to the wrong place.”