“Well, if it is, I wouldn’t mind you having our backs.”
Decker shook Reel’s hand, then turned to Robie and said, “Enjoy your Memorial Bridge time.”
“And you enjoy wherever you end up going for your ‘quiet time.’ ”
* * *
As Decker and Jamison were heading to the terminal, she said, “I don’t think I ever want to go back to North Dakota.”
“Hey, don’t hold it against the state. And Kelly, Shane, and Caroline will have it in tip-top shape in no time.”
She glanced at him. “But I still don’t understand how you could call this case simple. Look at everything you figured out, everything you said back at Liz’s place.”
“But the critical part that allowed me to grab the end of the chain and run with it? That was simple.”
“What do you mean?”
“Greed, Alex, one of the oldest motives in the book. It explains everything Liz did.”
“I think there’s one more thing to add to that, Decker.”
“What’s that?” he said, looking at her in surprise.
“Maybe the oldest motive in the book to hurt someone else.”
“Which is?”
“Love,” she said simply. “Liz’s twisted, terrible love for Caroline. But love all the same.”
Decker let out a long sigh and nodded. “I think that’s the most insightful thing either one of us has said during this case, Alex.”
“High praise coming from you,” she said.
As they entered the terminal Decker said, “Um, my sister invited me to visit her and the kids out in California in a couple of weeks. Stan’s flying out, too.”
“That’s great, Decker. Are you going to go?”
“I haven’t made up my mind.”
She looked at him closely. “Well, I think you should. And I mean it. After everything that just happened, a little family time might do you wonders. I know I’m going to visit my family. I need some hugs and kisses.”
Decker said, “I know that, Alex. I did have a family, you know.”
“You still have a family, Amos,” she shot back.
They took a cab to the condo they shared in southeast DC.
When they got there, Jamison took a shower, changed into sweats, dropped into bed, and fell right asleep.
Decker put his coat back on and went for a walk down near the Anacostia River.
On the other side of town, he figured, Will Robie would be making his way about now to Memorial Bridge and the Potomac to do his brooding.
Decker took a seat on a bench and looked out at the dark flowing waters and the lights beyond.
Now what? as Robie had implied.
He took out his phone and called his sister.
Renee answered on the second ring. “My God, Amos, Stan called and told me some of what happened. It’s a miracle you’re all still alive.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“I suppose this sort of thing happens to you a lot.”
“Maybe more than most. Look, about coming to see you and the kids?”
“Rest assured, we’ll give you your own space. No suffocating you with love and affection on my watch,” she added in a lighthearted tone. When she next spoke, her voice, though, had lost its frivolity. “Will . . . will you come?”
He didn’t answer right away. “I’m not sure, Renee. I’ll have to let you know.”
“O-okay.” Her tone of disappointment bounded over the ether and hit Decker as hard as anyone ever had on the football field.
“There’s just a lot going on.”
“I know. And, Amos, regardless of whether you come or not?”
“Yeah?”
“You will always be loved, little brother.”
“I’m not sure I deserve that, Renee.”
“Well, I think you’ve earned it. And coming from your sister, I hope you know how big a deal that is.”
She clicked off and he rose and started walking. Perhaps in search of his Memorial Bridge. Perhaps in search of something . . . anything else. And terrified that he would never be able to find it, because maybe it did not exist for someone like him.
He took out the photo of Cassie and Molly and studied it under the moonlight.
Time did not heal all wounds for him. It barely touched them, in fact. It was like pouring iodine on a cancerous tumor.
I don’t miss you less and less. I miss you more and more. And I’m so sorry there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.
Decker put the photo away and started to walk on, but then stopped.
In his mind’s eye were the images of his wife and daughter.
He just stood there, frozen for a few moments. They seemed to be talking to him, somehow communicating something he already knew, but simply refused to acknowledge.
And then Jamison’s last words came back to him.
You still have a family.
Decker slowly reached into his pocket, took out his phone, and punched in the number.
“Renee?”
“Amos, what’s wrong?”
“I just wanted to tell you that . . . that I’ll be there.”
The idea for this story came from three things I learned about North Dakota. First, the Stanley R. Mickelsen Safeguard Complex is an Air Force eye-in-the-sky installation near Grand Forks, North Dakota. Second, the Air Force auctioned off some of the adjacent land in 2012. Third, the auction was won by a sect of Anabaptist Hutterites, who established a community there.
Then I created my own Air Force installation, which I set on the opposite side of North Dakota, amid all the fracking operations, and the plot took off from there.
Hope you enjoyed the story.
To Michelle, here comes Amos Decker again. I know you like the big guy.
To Michael Pietsch, for your continued support.
To Ben Sevier, Elizabeth Kulhanek, Jonathan Valuckas, Matthew Ballast, Beth deGuzman, Anthony Goff, Rena Kornbluh, Karen Kosztolnyik, Brian McLendon, Albert Tang, Andy Dodds, Ivy Cheng, Joseph Benincase, Andrew Duncan, Morgan Swift, Bob Castillo, Laura Eisenhard, Sean Ford, Kristen Lemire, Briana Loewen, Mark Long, Thomas Louie, Rachael Kelly, Kirsiah McNamara, Nita Basu, Lisa Cahn, Megan Fitzpatrick, Michele McGonigle, Alison Lazarus, Barry Broadhead, Martha Bucci, Rick Cobban, Ali Cutrone, Raylan Davis, Tracy Dowd, Jean Griffin, Elizabeth Blue Guess, Julie Hernandez, Erica Hohos, Linda Jamison, John Leary, John Lefler, Rachel Hairston, Suzanne Marx, Christopher Murphy, Rob Philpott, Barbara Slavin, Karen Torres, Mary Urban, Jeff Shay, Carla Stockalper, and everyone at Grand Central Publishing, for being a great team.
To Aaron and Arleen Priest, Lucy Childs, Lisa Erbach Vance, Frances Jalet-Miller, John Richmond, and Juliana Nador, for all you do, and it’s a lot.
To Mitch Hoffman, for once more pushing me to do better!
To Anthony Forbes Watson, Jeremy Trevathan, Trisha Jackson, Alex Saunders, Laura Sherlock, Sara Lloyd, Claire Evans, Sarah Arratoon, Stuart Dwyer, Jonathan Atkins, Anna Bond, Leanne Williams, Natalie Young, Stacey Hamilton, Laura Ricchetti, Charlotte Williams, and Neil Lang at Pan Macmillan, for such a great tour last year and allowing me to dress up in my kilt. 2020 is looking great!
To Praveen Naidoo and the wonderful team at Pan Macmillan in Australia.
To Caspian Dennis and Sandy Violette, for doing what you do so well!