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 doorway, 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.”