“The police are still investigating. At this stage they have to explore every possibility.”
“Oh, sure, I see. Well, I went to bed early. Something didn’t agree with me that I ate apparently. Next thing I know I hear what I thought was a bomb going off. I pulled on my robe and got to the front door and…” Her voice trailed off and the hand she was stroking Teddy with began to shake.
Jamison swiftly put her hand on top of Bray’s. “It’s okay. You don’t have go into that. We know what happened.”
Decker said, “So you saw nothing out of the ordinary?”
“No, not that I can recall.” She suddenly looked around. “Where are my manners? Would you all like something to drink? Coffee? It’s raw outside.”
“No thanks,” said Decker. “We’re good.” He paused, formulating his next question. “Okay, now—”
Jamison said, “Would you like me to make you some coffee? Like you said, it’s raw out.”
While Decker looked perturbed at the interruption Bray smiled warmly at her. “Why, honey, that would be so nice. I just put a fresh pot on when y’all knocked.”
“Do you take anything in it?”
“Yes, black coffee.” Bray tittered and Jamison chuckled, while Decker sat there looking impatient.
Jamison fetched the coffee and delivered it to the old woman, who took a sip and placed the cup next to her on a side table. She refocused on Decker. “Now, what were you about to ask, young man?”
“Did you ever see a Toyota Avalon parked in front of the duplex two doors down from you?”
“Avalon?”
“Yes.”
“You mean the tan four-door?”
Decker sat up a bit straighter. “Yes.”
“Didn’t know it was an Avalon. It was here yesterday.”
“What time was that?”
Bray took off her glasses and rubbed a smudge off the lens using her sleeve. “Oh, I’d say about six o’clock. Must of been because the evening news was just coming on. I know folks don’t watch the news on TV anymore. They use those computers and such and even their phones! But I loved watching Walter Cronkite, and though there’s nobody on TV like Uncle Walt anymore, I still watch. So, about six o’clock I went to put Teddy out to let him run around. That’s when I saw it. Parked right in front.”
“I don’t suppose you got a license plate?” asked Decker, eyeing the woman’s thick glasses as she settled them back on her face.
“There was an ‘A’ and an ‘R’ and the number 4. Oh, and it was a Georgia plate.”
Decker looked surprised. “A Georgia plate, you’re sure?”
“Hell yes. I played that car game enough times with my kids. You know, count the state plates? This was back when people drove long distances with beds in the back of the car for the kids to sleep in and seat belts were only used to hold the groceries in place. I’ve seen enough Georgia plates. Had the Georgia peach right in the middle. No other plate has a peach, does it?”
“No, they don’t,” said Decker with a quick glance at Jamison. “Did you see who was driving it?”
“See, the thing is that duplex is usually empty. I mean, the person who owns it rents it out, but the only people who live here are ones who can’t afford a nicer place. Like me. All I got is Social Security. I noticed the car because it was nice, relatively new. The rule around here is most folks don’t have cars. They catch the bus on the main road or ride bikes to work. Now, Regina had a car, but it was about twenty-five years old and on its last legs. You said it was an Avalon parked out front?” Decker nodded. “Well, it looked pretty new.”
“And the person driving it?” prompted Decker again.
“Oh, right. Well, I saw him too.”
“So it was a man?”
She looked up at him. “Well, didn’t I just say it was?”
Jamison, trying hard not to smile, said, “Can you tell us what he looked like?”
“He was big. But not so big as you,” she added, looking Decker up and down. “But close, height-wise leastways.”
“Age?” asked Decker.
“Not as young as you, not as old as me. Maybe seventy. He was bald, or nearly so. Fringe of white hair. No beard or nothing on his face. A hard face.”
“Fat, thin?”
“Neither. He looked fit enough, sturdy. No big gut or nothing.” She slapped her knee with the palm of her hand. “You see an old person in this country who’s not fat, what’s the first thing you think? Huh? That they got cancer, that’s what. Am I right? Portion control. Always worked for me. In my day dinner plates were what people now call dessert plates. And they wonder why they’re obese. Well, don’t get me going on that.” She again looked at Decker, who though he’d lost over thirty pounds was still considerably overweight. “Oh, excuse me, son. I didn’t mean nothing by that. I’m sure you’re very nice, but you might want to cut back on the carbs.”
Decker ignored this and said, “You said he had a hard face. How close were you when you saw him? You said it was around six in the evening, so it must have been fairly dark by then.”
In answer she pointed to her glasses. “These give me twenty-twenty, so the doctor tells me, if you’re thinking that I’m blind as a bat and can’t see in the day much less at night. And I never had me no cataracts. And he was standing on the front porch and the outside light was on, so I got a good look at him. Oh, and he walked with a little limp.” She thought for a moment. “Seems his right leg was bad.”
“Did you ever see anyone visit him?”
She shook her head. “To tell the truth, I thought he might just be squatting there for a spell. That’s happened before here. People see places like this and just drop anchor and move in. No damn respect for property rights.”
Jamison said anxiously, “Patti, did he see you watching him? Because that could be a real concern.”
In response, Bray pulled from her robe pocket a sleek, compact nine-millimeter Beretta pistol.
“I might look frail and blind, honey, but fact is I can hit anything within ten feet with this baby. Good stopping power. Drops you on the spot, specially if you shoot ’em in the nuts.”
“I bet,” said Decker.
CHAPTER
27
WE’LL GET A BOLO out on the Avalon and this guy,” said the Alabama police officer guarding the crime scene, after Decker had informed him of their conversation with Bray. “It’s a little sketchy, but it’s worth a shot. It’s not like we have a whole lot else to go on.”
Decker wasn’t holding out much hope that the guy was even still in the state of Alabama. Even if he had been around when Regina Montgomery’s duplex had blown up, he had a big head start.
He rejoined Davenport, Mars, and Jamison in the SUV that Bogart had rented previously. “There’s no more we can do here,” he said. “Let’s head back to the hotel.”
On the drive there Mars said, “Tell me about her son, Tommy?”
“He goes to the local high school. He’ll be a senior next year. He’s already got some college offers. He’s a running back, like you were.”
“And what happens to him when all this is said and done?”
Decker said, “If he has relatives somewhere, he’ll probably go and live with them. Or maybe his football coach will let him stay with him until he graduates.”
Mars nodded and looked out the window where the rain was still beating down and showing no signs of letting up. And the weather was turning chilly.
“Why?” asked Decker, watching Mars curiously.
“No reason. Just…just wanted to know. Tough for a kid, losing your parents.”
“Tough for an adult too,” replied Decker.
*
At the hotel they found that Bogart had paid for their rooms for a few more days. And that the rental vehicle was good for the same amount of time.
“I hope that doesn’t come back to bite him in the ass,” said Davenport. “He’s taking a big risk by doing that, especially after he was ordered off the case.”
“We were all ordered off the case,” said Jamison.
“It’s a shame that the team didn’t last,” said Davenport. “It could have been really fulfilling.”
“If you go now you can probably still be on the team,” said Decker. “Assuming they’re going to reconstitute it.”