The Fix (Amos Decker #3)

“Hold it right there!”


The two men looked over at an advancing Decker. His pistol was out and aimed at them, and his FBI creds were held up in his other hand.

“FBI. Guns down, on the pavement, hands interlocked behind your heads. Now!”

Instead the two men ran for their car, jumped in, and tattooed rubber on the pavement as their smoking tires gained traction and they hurtled backwards out of the parking lot, hit a sharp J-turn, and then the driver floored it. Within a few seconds they were out of sight.

Decker raced over to Tomas, who was still slumped on the hood.

“Dad!” called out Danny as he jumped out of the car and ran to his father.

Decker holstered his weapon and helped Tomas to sit up. “You okay?” he asked.

Tomas nodded and rubbed the blood off his mouth. When he looked up at Decker, his features hardened. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? He hit you pretty hard. You might have a concussion.”

“I’m fine!”

Tomas pushed off the hood, staggered momentarily, and then regained his balance. He barked at his son, “Entrar en el coche.”

“Wait a minute,” said Decker. “Who were those guys?”

Tomas glanced at him. “It is nothing to do with you. I will deal with it.”

“But I can help you. I’m with the—”

“No necesito ayuda!”

Tomas got in the car and started it up. Decker had to jump back as he slammed the car into gear and screeched out of the parking lot, leaving Decker to stare after them.

He caught a glimpse of Danny looking back at him, and then the car turned the corner and, like the Camaro, disappeared.

Decker walked back over to the front steps, picked up his cup of coffee, and walked back inside. “So much for a relaxing morning,” he muttered.

As he stepped inside his apartment, Jamison was leaning against the kitchen sink yawning and rubbing her hair. She was still in her sleepwear—shorts and a T-shirt. Decker could hear the Keurig machine doing its thing.

Jamison yawned again. “Did you hear like a car racing by or something?”

“Or something,” said Decker as he rinsed his cup and put it in the dishwasher.

“So you know anything else about Tomas and Danny?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“Like is he in a gang or something?”

She shot him a startled look. “What, why do you ask that?”

“Because two guys with guns just tried to shake him down. One of them nearly knocked his head off.”

“What! Is that what I heard?”

Decker nodded. “I intervened with my gun and creds, but the assholes didn’t stick around to get read their rights. When I tried to help Tomas he told me to mind my own business.”

“Did you get the license plate of the car?”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” Decker said dryly.

“Well, we can run it and find out who those guys are.”

“They seemed to have a problem with Tomas. And the fact that he wants no help might mean he doesn’t have clean hands.”

“That’s a big leap of logic, Decker.”

“Not that big,” he retorted. “The fact that two guys he obviously knows showed up with guns and tried to beat his brains out might suggest there is an issue there.”

Jamison made her coffee before answering. She took a sip and said, “I’m not awake enough to intelligently discuss this.”

“Okay, when you are, let’s talk about it. And you might want to let Melvin know.”

“Why Melvin? I’m the manager.”

“And it’s his money and building.”

She sighed. “I’ll call him. Are you going to run the plate?”

“I will. But I’m not sure what else I can do. It’s not my case. We can pass it on to the local cops?”

“But if Tomas is involved in something bad…?”

“What do you want me to do, Alex? I don’t have a magic wand to make the world all perfect.”

“Why don’t you run the plate but don’t tell the local cops. Maybe we’ll have time to run something down. And I can talk to Tomas and see if he’ll open up to me.”

“From the look on the guy’s face this morning you’d have a better shot at flying out that window.”

“I can try.”

“Alex, these guys are dangerous. You don’t want to get mixed up in this.”

“Oh, because my day job is so full of peace and quiet?” she shot back.

He sighed and leaned against the counter. “You don’t want to bring trouble to where you live. I know that better than most.”

Her features softened. “I know what happened to your family, Amos. But you can’t blame yourself for that.”

“All I’m saying is tread lightly. And don’t do anything dangerous. And if you’re even thinking of treading close to that line, make sure I’m with you, okay?”

“Okay.”

He gave her a long look and then said, “I’ll always have your back, Alex.”

Before she could answer he turned and walked away.





CHAPTER

16



HARPER BROWN.

That’s what the visitor’s nametag said.

Decker and Jamison had walked into a small conference room at the Hoover Building and found Brown sitting next to Bogart and across from Milligan.

Brown was about five-seven, lean and fit, with blonde hair down to her shoulders. She wore a black pleated skirt, a white blouse, and high heels. Decker put her age at late thirties. The face was mostly unlined except for a trio of creases in the middle of her forehead, which made Decker think that she either frowned a lot or thought deeply a great deal, or frowned when she thought deeply.

She smiled when she saw Decker, rose, and held out her hand.

“Amos Decker, your reputation precedes you.”

There was a southern twang to her words that Decker placed somewhere between Tennessee and Mississippi.

Decker shook her hand and glanced questioningly at Bogart.

“Agent Brown is with a sister agency. She called last night and asked for this meeting.”

Decker and Jamison sat down after Brown shook hands with her too.

“What sister agency?” asked Decker.

“DIA.”

“Defense Intelligence Agency,” replied Decker.

“That’s right,” said Brown.

Decker said, “You’re like the military’s CIA, only your global reach is arguably bigger.”

“And how did you come by that knowledge?” asked Brown, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“I like to Google as much as the next person. Are you with the Clandestine Service, the Attaché Systems, or the Cover Office?”

“I doubt you have the security clearances to hear the answer.”

“There’s no doubt about it. I don’t have the security clearances to hear it.”

“Amazing what’s on the Internet these days,” interjected Milligan, glancing nervously between the two as they stared stonily across the table at each other.

Bogart cleared his throat and said, “Agent Brown has some things to share on the Dabney-Berkshire matter. Things that we apparently are cleared for.”