HEAVY RAINS OVER the last several hours had turned the site of the duplex explosion into a quagmire.
Wearing slickers and boots, Decker, Jamison, and Davenport walked the site looking for clues and talking to the local cops. Because he was not with the FBI or the local police, Mars could only watch from the rental in which they had driven over.
“We couldn’t find any evidence of an accelerant or a timer or bomb materials, Agent Decker,” said the cop who had been leading them around the site.
Decker did not correct the man about his “agent” status. And his FBI creds were prominently clipped to the outside of his slicker for all to see, the same for Jamison and Davenport.
Decker surveyed the debris field. “Do you think you still might turn something up?”
“Usually by this time we would have. We’re not inexperienced with explosions down here. People like to blow shit up, so we know what to look for. And we know the explosion patterns we typically see if a man-made device was used. Right now all things point to it being an accident. The duplex was really old and in bad shape. And I have to imagine the pipes and valves coming from the underground propane tank weren’t in pristine condition. We’ve had these things blow before. It just happens.”
Decker nodded. “I get that. Only I’d feel a lot better if the timing were different.”
The cop nodded in understanding. “Meaning her husband just being executed?”
“Right.”
“You don’t think she committed suicide, do you?”
“By blowing herself up?” said Decker skeptically.
“No, but she could have tried putting her head in the oven or something like that and then it just blew. You said she was a smoker. She could have struck a match for some reason.”
“That’s one theory, but I don’t think it’s the right one.”
Decker left the officer and joined Davenport and Jamison.
“What now?” asked a soaked and visibly irritated Davenport.
“Well, since they’re not finding what caused the explosion, now we talk to the neighbors.”
“Can we at least wait until it stops raining?” asked Davenport.
“You can,” said Decker.
He turned and headed to the nearest house.
Jamison glanced at Davenport. “You coming?”
Davenport stared after Decker, annoyance flitting across her features. “Actually, I think I’ll wait with Melvin. It might be more productive.”
She stalked off toward the car while Jamison hurried after Decker.
* * *
Folks in six of the duplexes had not noticed the Toyota Avalon. The seventh door was opened by a tiny, bent, white-haired woman, who looked to be close to a hundred. She wore a fuzzy white bathrobe, used a walker, and had to tilt her head back to take in the full scope of the huge Decker. Her glasses were Coke-bottle thick, and Decker was not holding out much hope that she would be able to tell them anything.
She invited them in, looking excited, because, as she said, “a G-man” was here to talk to her.
“And G-lady,” she said, nodding and smiling at Jamison as they settled into chairs around a small, battered coffee table. “I guess even the FBI has learned that the women can get things done better than the men.”
“Guess so,” said Jamison with an impish look at Decker.
“My name is Patricia Bray, but you can call me Patti. All my family and friends do—well, they did when they were alive. I’m really the only one left now. The last of nine siblings.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Patti,” said Jamison.
A fat tabby jumped up into Bray’s lap and the old woman stroked it. “But I’m not alone. This here is Teddy. He’s sixteen, and it’s anyone’s guess who’ll outlive the other.”
Decker said, “You heard what happened to your neighbor?”
Bray nodded, her lips curling into a frown. “I knew Regina. What a life that woman had. But I heard Tommy is okay, thank the Lord. He’s a nice young man. He’s helped me around the house lots of times. I watched him grow up. They moved here when that husband of hers was transferred to the prison down the road.”
“We know.”
“They just electrocuted him,” added Bray. “And now this.” She started. “My goodness, that means Tommy’s an orphan. Who’s going to look after him? He’s still in high school.”
“They’re working on that right now,” said Decker. “He’s staying with his football coach for the time being.”
“Oh, that’s very nice. He’s a good football player. Regina would go on and on about him. Very proud momma.”
“So you two spoke a lot?” asked Decker.
“Oh yes. I used to bake and I’d bring things around. Now I’m too old for that, so Regina would do shopping for me, help around the house some. She’d send Tommy over to do things too. Nicest woman in the world.”
Decker glanced a bit guiltily at Jamison. “I didn’t know that about her.”
“Oh yes. She’s had a hard life, like I said. But lately she seemed happier. I mean, it might have been because she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. What with her husband and all. And then she had Tommy in her life. I think that’s what she was clinging to. Seeing him get into a good college. Being there for him.”
“Did she tell you about her plans for the future?” asked Jamison.
“Oh, sure. She was going to be moving from here, which made me sad in one respect. But she has her life to lead and I don’t have all that much life left. She was going to follow Tommy to college. I mean, she wasn’t going to attend college, but live nearby. Look after him, you know. He was all she had.”
“Did she say how she was going to manage that financially?” asked Decker.
“She said there was some insurance money. So I guess that husband of hers was good for something.”
“Did you see anything last night that looked suspicious?” asked Decker.
“Suspicious? I thought it was a gas explosion.”
“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.