Redemption (Amos Decker #5)(9)

Decker turned and walked out.

Lancaster looked at Jamison. “Well, some things never change. Like him.”

“Tell me about it,” replied Jamison wearily.





Chapter 5



ROSS BOGART SAID, “This is unacceptable, Decker. And I mean totally unacceptable.”

Decker was on his phone, heading to the Burlington police station.

“I understand how you could think that, Ross.”

“There’s no understanding anything. I let you go rogue once before with the Melvin Mars case. And then when you wanted to stay back in Baronville and work the case there because it was connected to Alex’s family. But I can’t let you go off willy-nilly whenever you feel like it.”

“This is different,” said Decker.

“You say that every time,” barked Bogart. “You’ve not only blown up the exception to the rule, you’ve blown up the rule. The bottom line is you work for the FBI.”

“I’m sorry, Ross. This is my hometown. I can’t turn my back on it.”

“You’ve made your choice, then?”

“Yes.”

“Then you force me to make mine.”

“This is all me. Alex has nothing to do with it.”

“I’ll deal with Special Agent Jamison separately.”

The line went dead.

Decker slowly put the phone away. It seemed that his days at the FBI were numbered.

He looked over at Lancaster, who was in the car with him.

“Problems?” she said.

“There are always problems.”

They drove on.

*



Susan Richards was not pleased. “You’re shitting me, right? You think I killed that son of a bitch? I wish I had.”

Decker and Lancaster had just walked into the interrogation room at police headquarters. Jamison had gone back to her hotel because Decker had not received authorization from Bogart to work on the case. And that permission obviously would not be forthcoming. Bogart had probably already contacted her.

They had had to wait for a few hours while the paperwork was drawn up to bring Richards in after she angrily refused to voluntarily comply with their request. And the fuming woman had apparently taken her time getting ready while the uniforms impatiently waited.

Thus it was now nearly five in the morning.

Lancaster looked ready to fall asleep.

Decker looked ready to question the woman for the next ten years.

The interrogation room’s cinderblock walls were still painted mustard yellow. Decker had never known why, other than maybe that was the color of some old paint the custodians had found somewhere in the basement. Leaving the cinder blocks their original gray would have been nicer, he thought. But maybe no one wanted “nicer” in an interrogation room.

Richards had been forty-two when her family was wiped out. She was in her midfifties now. She had aged remarkably well, Decker thought. He remembered her as tall, but plump and mousy-looking, her light brown hair hanging limply around her face.

Now she was much thinner, and her hair was cut in a chic manner, with the tresses grazing her shoulder. She had colored her hair and blonde highlights predominated. Her mousy personality had been replaced by an assertive manner that had made itself known with her outburst the moment the two detectives walked into the room.

Richards looked from Lancaster to Decker as they sat down across from her. “Wait a minute, you’re the two from that night. I recognize you now. You know what he did.” She sat forward, her sharp elbows pressed against the tabletop. Her face full of fury, she snapped, “You know what that bastard did.”

Lancaster said calmly, “Which is why, when he was found dead, we thought we needed to talk to you. So that you could tell us where you were between around eleven and midnight.”

“Where in the hell do you think I was at that hour? I was in my bed asleep.”

“Can anyone verify that?” asked Decker.

“I live alone. I never remarried. That’s what having your family wiped out will do to you!” she added fiercely.

“What time did you get home last night?” asked Decker.

Richards took a moment to compose herself and sat back. “I got off work at six. Three days a week, I volunteer at the homeless shelter on Dawson Square. I was there until around eight last night. There are people who can vouch for me.”

“And after that?” said Lancaster.

Richards sat back and spread her hands. “I drove home, cooked some dinner.”

“What’d you have?” asked Lancaster.

“Oh, the usual. Smoked salmon on crusty bread with cream cheese and capers to warm up my appetite, then a Waldorf salad, some linguine with fresh clams, and a nice little tiramisu for dessert. And I paired that with a wonderful glass of my favorite chilled Prosecco.”

“Seriously?” said Lancaster.

Richards made a face. “Of course not. I made a tuna sandwich with a pickle and some corn chips. And I skipped the Prosecco and had iced tea instead.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I ordered something from Bed, Bath & Beyond online. You can probably check that. Then I watched some TV.”

“What program?” asked Decker.

“I was streaming. Outlander. I’m really getting into it. Season two. Jamie and Claire in France.”