He put his thumb on the screen of his phone and readied himself, flicking the flashlight on at the same time as he tossed the phone in front of the stairs, with the light shining up them.
Four shots were fired instantly.
Four suppressed shots. The bullets hit the floor and ricocheted off.
Though he hadn’t been hit, Decker let out a yell as though he had so the other guy would let down his guard.
A moment later, he fired half his mag up the stairs in an arc wide enough to cover the entire width of the doorway.
He heard an impact, and then another, and then a grunt.
He stepped out of the way as something came rolling down the steps and landed in a heap at the bottom.
Decker retrieved his phone and shone the light on the bundle.
It was a man.
A dead man now, thanks to Decker.
As he stared down at the corpse, Decker felt himself audibly gasp.
Normally, when he was confronted by death, Decker’s synesthesia would kick in. The hairs on his neck would rise, as though an electrical current was running through him, he would feel dizzy and nauseous, and, most significantly, he would see the most vivid shade of electric blue. It would assail him from all angles, suffocating him.
Yet he wasn’t experiencing any of those things. He just saw a body.
It was as though his synesthesia had simply vanished.
And then he heard the sirens.
And then heavy feet clattering on the front porch.
Agent Jenkins from next door, he was certain.
The cavalry was here.
Decker slumped down on the bottom step and waited.
Chapter 33
OKAY, YOU NEED to stop going out at night, and I damn well mean it!”
These words came from Jamison, who was standing in front of Decker in a long T-shirt and sweatpants. She was barefoot, and her matted hair evidenced that until very recently she had been asleep.
They were in the living room of the Mitchells’ home. Amber and Zoe were still asleep upstairs.
Decker had called Jamison from the basement of the house where he’d shot and killed a man.
He had explained matters to the first responders and then to Kemper, and finally to Green and Lassiter when they had shown up, including how he had gotten there in the first place.
The real surprise had come when Kemper had seen the dead man lying on the floor with two of Decker’s bullets in his chest.
“That’s Brian Collins,” she had said.
“And who is he?” Decker had replied.
“He’s a drug dealer.”
“Do you think he knew Michael Swanson or maybe worked with him?”
“Doubtful. Collins was a heavy hitter. He’s wanted in several states for distribution and murder.”
Green had asked, “But what was he doing here? And why try to kill you?”
“He must have seen me go into the house,” said Decker. “He might have been watching the place.”
“Okay, but why take a chance on going after you when a DEA agent is right next door?” asked Green.
“I take that as a good sign,” said Decker. “That means they’re afraid we’re getting closer. Like when they tried to toast me and Jamison inside Toby Babbot’s trailer.”
“So, are you getting closer?” Green had asked.
Decker had looked down at the body. “Maybe too close.”
Now Decker looked up at the very pissed-off Jamison. “I didn’t know anything like this was going to happen, Alex. I just couldn’t sleep and decided to check some things out. I talked to Martin and that led me to the house.”
Jamison slumped down next to him. “Decker, I know you may not get this, but my sister and my niece just received horrible news. Frank is dead. This is going to affect them for the rest of their lives.”
“I know all that, Alex.”
“I know you know the facts. But sometimes you miss the stuff beyond the facts.”
“What exactly is your point?”
“One tragedy is enough right now. Please don’t add yourself to that tally. I don’t think any of us could take that. I know I couldn’t. Now, unless you’re going to do something else incredibly dangerous and stupid, I’m going to bed before my head explodes. I suggest you do the same.”
She trudged off upstairs and Decker slowly followed.
He washed up and undressed.
He glanced down at the hand that had pulled the trigger that had ended Brian Collins’s life. He didn’t feel bad about that. Collins had tried to murder him, so he got what he deserved.
Which still did not explain why a man he didn’t know had tried to kill him tonight.
A heavy-hitter drug dealer. Wanted in several states.
The DEA.
Rogue agents.
Six murders, four of which seemed to involve unrelated parties.
Was it all about drugs? Lots of people had died due to drugs. And by all accounts, Baronville was in the grips of the same opioid crisis that was terrorizing other areas of the country.
And he and Jamison had apparently run smack into it.
And what about Lassiter’s father burning down a banker’s house and going to prison for it and then dying there? And her mother later committing suicide? He could see now why Lassiter had a beef against the current John Baron, unreasonable as it might be.
And lastly, what the hell was happening in his head? Why hadn’t the electric blue color come? And the nausea and the hairs rising off his neck? It wasn’t like he wanted any of those things to happen to him. But at least they were predictable. That they no longer occurred was, in his mind, worse than if they still happened to him.
My brain might be changing again. Who will I be tomorrow?
He sighed. That sort of speculation was not something he wanted to dwell on.
And then a thought occurred to him. Thankfully, it was tied to something about the case.
He took out his phone and called Kemper. She answered on the second ring.
“What would your two agents be doing in that house?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Well, they might have been watching something or someone.”
“You mean like a surveillance nest?”
“Something like that, though I couldn’t find any evidence of that.”
“There are only three people who live on that street, Decker, and they’re all old and one of them is blind and one of them is a former Sunday school teacher.”
“And one of them is an asshole with a sawed-off shotgun.”
“Explain that.”
He told her about his run-in with Fred Ross.
“I still don’t see how a bitter octogenarian in a wheelchair has anything to do with this.”
“I don’t either.”
“Well, I have some news for you.”
Decker perked up at this. “What’s that?”
“The dead guy, Brian Collins?”
“Yeah.”
“I have some more info on him than what I shared at the house tonight.”
“And why are you willing to share it with me now?”
“I’m growing to like you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“We knew his former partner,” Kemper said.
“Who was that?”
“Randy Haas, the dead guy who fingered my two agents as rogues.”
Chapter 34
SHE WANTS US to do what?”
Decker stared across the breakfast table at Jamison.
She lowered her cup of coffee and said crossly, “Amber wants us to go to the fulfillment center and get Frank’s personal effects from his office. And pick up his car.”
“But I’ve got the case—”
She cut him off. “Decker, my sister is having to plan her husband’s funeral this morning. The least we can do is help her with this.”
“I’m ready, Aunt Alex.”
They both turned to see Zoe standing in the d
oorway, her coat on and her eyes puffy from crying.
“Okay, sweetie, we’ll be ready in a minute. Why don’t you go wait by the front door?”
Zoe glanced woefully at Decker before trudging off.
Decker looked at Jamison. “Are we dropping her off at school?”
“No, she’s coming with us.”
“With us? What about school?”
“Decker, her dad just died. She’s not going to school today. She’s in kindergarten. Her missing a few days is not going to determine if she gets into Harvard.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea for her to go with us, though? I mean, to see her dad’s stuff?”
“There’s really no other way. Amber doesn’t know anyone here well enough to feel comfortable leaving Zoe with them, especially now. And she’ll be running around today dealing with funeral arrangements, picking out a coffin and flowers and a gravesite. Do you think Zoe should be exposed to that?”
Decker sat back looking contrite. “No.”
“Okay, so finish your coffee and let’s get going. I’ll drive over and you can drive Frank’s car back here.”
As they got to the front door Zoe put out her hand, not to her aunt but to Decker. Looking surprised and with a quick glance at Jamison, who nodded at him, he took the little girl’s small hand in his enormous one and they set off.
* * *
“Good God, this place is huge.”
They had just pulled into the parking lot of the Maxus Fulfillment Center when Jamison made this remark.
The place was truly vast and the parking lot was filled with cars. On the rear side of the building they had seen fleets of semis loading and unloading their trailers at a seemingly endless line of loading docks.
“And they’re adding more to it,” noted Decker, pointing to the construction on the western side of the building.
Jamison found a parking space a long way away from the entrance and they walked through a sea of vehicles toward the front doors of the building.
Zoe said, “Is this where my dad worked?”
Jamison said, “Yes, it is, honey. We’re going to get some of his things.”
“Mommy told me that. And his car too.”
“That’s right.”
Zoe peered up at her aunt. “Is my daddy really dead?”
Jamison stiffened and seemed incapable of answering.
Before she could get a reply out, Decker bent down, lifted Zoe up in his arms, and pointed to the building. “You see how big this place is?”
Zoe nodded.
“Well, your dad helped run this whole thing. Look at all these cars and all the people who work here. It was very important what he did. Taking care of this building and all these people. They all counted on your dad. And he did a really good job.”
Zoe put her thumb in her mouth and her eyes turned watery.
Decker continued, “So we just need to go in and get his stuff, because his stuff belongs at home with you and your mom, right?”
Zoe nodded vigorously while sucking anxiously on her thumb.
Decker walked on with the little girl in his arms, a stunned-looking Jamison hurrying after the pair.
Inside, they were directed to the office of the person who managed the facility. The nameplate was on the wall next to the office door.
“Ted Ross,” read off Decker. “Interesting.”
Through the gap in the blinds covering the window looking into the office they could see a middle-aged man in a dress shirt and tie with thinning gray hair sitting behind his desk and on the phone. Three of the walls were white-painted drywall, but the rear wall had been gussied up with wood paneling trimmed with moldings and medallions. A boxed Pittsburgh Steelers jersey with a “terrible towel” suspended inside was hanging on one section of the wall.
“Why is it interesting? Do you know him?” asked Jamison.
“I might have met his old man.”
They knocked on the door and they could see Ross glance up, finish his call, and cross the room to open the door.
He looked up at Decker, then Zoe, and his features turned somber.
“I’m Ted Ross. Thanks for coming in. We didn’t know what to do with…”
He stopped and glanced uncertainly at Zoe.
Jamison said, “We were glad to come by. Amber is my sister. I’m Alex Jamison and this is Amos Decker.”
“You’re both with the FBI, I heard.”
“That’s right,” said Jamison. “And this is Zoe, Frank’s daughter.”
Ross put out his hand for Zoe to shake. “Hello, Zoe, it’s very nice to meet you.”
Zoe nodded and shook his hand, but said nothing, as her thumb was still firmly planted in her mouth.
“Is your father Fred Ross?” asked Decker.
Ross looked surprised. “Yeah, why?”
“I met him the other night.”
“Sorry,” said Ross tightly. “He’s a real piece of work.”
“One way of putting it,” replied Decker.
“Anyway, let me show you where the things are.”
Ross led them down a long hallway.
“How big is this place?” asked Decker.
“A million two hundred thousand square feet,” replied Ross. “And we’re adding another six hundred thousand square feet. This is the future of retail, for better or worse. Malls across the country are shutting down and chains are going bankrupt. Consumers are going to the Internet to buy their stuff and these places are how that stuff gets delivered.”
Decker said, “I guess that’s why these facilities are so big.”
“That’s right. And it’s really a win-win for us and the vendors we serve. It lets them focus on products and services, and we handle how the orders get filled. We do order fulfillment for over fifteen thousand vendors and counting. These fulfillment centers are not cheap to build and run. So companies that want to sell online, but can’t afford to build a distribution site, outsource that function to companies like Maxus. We charge shelf space to the vendors down to one-twentieth of an inch and we take a cut of every sale, but it’s worth it to them for the reasons I just cited. This is our tenth center, and there are plans for ten more to be built pretty much simultaneously in the next five years. Business is booming. We literally can’t keep up.”
“I guess that’s a good problem to have,” said Jamison.
“Yeah, but they’ll work you to death if you let them.”
As soon as Ross said this he paled and glanced at Zoe, but she didn’t appear to have heard him. She was busy looking around from her high perch in Decker’s arms. He had tried to put her down once, but she had so frantically clung to him that he had kept carrying her.
“Here we are,” said Ross.
He unlocked a door and opened it to reveal an office about a third the size of his own. It was neatly organized with a desk and chair, three metal file cabinets against one wall, and on another wall a large whiteboard covered with notations and lists.
A sleek computer rested in the center of the desk.
“Frank was very organized and efficient,” noted Ross. He looked at Zoe. “Your dad was really good at his job.”
She nodded but said nothing.
Ross pointed to a cardboard box on the desk. “We collected his personal items. They’re all in there.” He fished in his pocket. “And here are his keys. We pulled his car up near the front entrance. It’s a blue Kia four-door, but you knew that.”
“Thanks,” said Jamison, taking the keys and handing them to Decker.
Decker said, “Alex, why don’t you take Zoe and head back. I can bring the box in my car.”
“My dad’s car,” said Zoe, her thumb out of her mouth now.
“Exactly, your dad’s car,” said Jamison quickly. “Okay, we’ll see you back home.”
She took Zoe and they walked off. Zoe looked forlornly back at Decker, before they turned a corner and were out of sight.
Decker turned to Ross. “Hey, you mind doing me a favor?”
>
“If I can, sure.”
“Can I see where it happened?”
Ross looked mildly surprised. “Where Frank was…killed, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“It was an accident. A tragic and stupid one and it never should have happened, but it was still an accident.”
“I’m not saying otherwise. And I’m not here investigating. I just want to be able to tell Amber…She might have questions, is all. But she couldn’t bring herself to come today. Plus, she has a funeral to arrange.”
“Right, I know. It’s all so awful. We’re paying for the funeral and everything,” Ross added quickly.
“That’s good of you.”
“And look, I know she’s going to sue Maxus. Hell, I would if I were her.”
“That’s a pretty remarkable statement considering you work for Maxus.”
“I’ve only worked for them since they started building this place. And they hired me because I was one of the few people around that had managerial experience running a large facility, and I also advised them during the construction phase. I hope Amber gets all that’s legally coming to her.”
“What facility did you run?”
“I’m in my early sixties, so I’m old enough to have participated in the salad days of Baronville, or at least the tail end of it. I started out as a finish carpenter, then ran my own construction company. After that I managed the last paper mill in town. It wasn’t as big as this place, but we had about two hundred employees, materials coming in, finished product to get out, and trucks coming in and going out at all hours. So running this place was right in my wheelhouse.”
“So, Frank Mitchell?”
“Follow me.”
Chapter 35
ROSS LED DECKER to a door at the end of the hall. It opened up to a mezzanine with a bird’s-eye view of the vast main floor.
“I have that window in my office so I can keep an eye on people coming and going in the management section,” said Ross. “But here is where I really focus a lot of my attention. Because this is where the money is made.”
Decker looked out over a sea of shelving and miles of conveyor belts, and people and both fixed and mobile robots working in seemingly perfect synchronization.
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