DECKER AND MARS didn’t have the money for airfare, though Jamison and Davenport did. They were willing to put the men’s airline tickets on their credit cards, but both refused the offer. Mars said he did not feel right about accepting anything from anyone.
“We’ll drive back to Texas in the rental the FBI is paying for,” said Decker. “You two fly and we’ll meet you at the same motel.”
“Are you sure?” asked Davenport. “We can drive back with you.”
“Melvin and I can talk. And you two do not want to spend all that time in a car with us. When you land, you can get rooms there. Bogart emailed me and told me he had authorized government vouchers for five more days each for all of us. I’ll forward you the info and you can use them. When you get back, check in with the local police to see if anything has happened since we’ve been gone.”
“Happened?” said Jamison. “Like what?”
“Anything inexplicable.”
“And you don’t like inexplicable, that I know.”
“No, I don’t. I hate it, in fact.”
* * *
The women made their flight arrangements while Decker gassed up the car and packed his few belongings. Mars had done the same. The state of Texas had given him some money after he left prison, to purchase some clothes, shoes, and other essentials, along with a duffel bag to carry it in.
Decker had spoken with Mary Oliver before they’d left to return to Texas. She was busy preparing the paperwork to get Mars his official compensation from the state. She had also hinted to Decker that she had another strategy in mind and would fill him in later.
“What strategy?” he’d asked.
“To get Melvin what he really deserves after two decades in prison. Because twenty-five grand just doesn’t cut it.”
“How long will it take to drive?” asked Mars as he and Decker set off in the rental.
“Seventeen hours or more. It’s over a thousand miles.”
“We driving straight through?” asked Mars.
“I don’t know. We’ll switch off. See how it goes.”
“Decker, I ain’t driven a car for twenty-some years. I don’t even have a license.”
Decker looked askance at him. “What, you worried about getting pulled over?”
“Well, yeah. They’ll probably throw my ass back in prison.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. If it comes to it, I’ll say I forced you to drive at gunpoint because I’m a prick.”
“Still a long drive, even for two.”
“I like to drive. It helps me think.”
“Well, if we’re going to switch off I should sleep while you drive. Then vice versa.”
“Before you do, let’s talk.”
“Still thinking about what I said in the gym?”
“Of course I am.”
“You got to see it from my perspective. It’s been my ass sitting in prison all this time. Sure I want to know the truth. But I’ve also got to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. And I’m scared shitless something is gonna mess this up and I’ll be going back to jail.”
Decker fingered the steering wheel and gazed out the windshield. They had reached Interstate 20 heading due west and he pressed his foot down on the gas. He set the cruise control and settled back in his seat.
“You can do both.”
“Can I?”
“When my family was murdered I spent every waking hour of my life trying to find out who killed them. Even when I slept I wasn’t away from it. I was obsessed.”
“And do you think that was good for you?”
“No, it wasn’t. I lost everything because of it. My job, my house, pretty much everything. But it didn’t matter to me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d already lost the only things that really meant something to me.”
Mars sighed and gazed out his window. “What were their names?”
“My wife was Cassandra. But I called her Cassie. My daughter was Molly. My brother-in-law’s name was Johnny.”
“And you found ’em dead?”
“Yes.”
“That must’ve been the worst thing could happen to you.”
“I saw them in blue.”
Mars shot him a glance. “Huh? Come again?”
“I have synesthesia.”
“Synes-what?”
“Synesthesia. It’s when your sensory pathways are commingled. I see certain numbers in color, for instance. And I saw my family’s murder in blue. I see death in blue. I also have hyperthymesia.”
“What’s that?”
“A perfect memory.”
“Damn, that’s lucky. Were you born with it?”
“No. I never had it until I played in the NFL.”
Mars looked at him skeptically. “You made it to the NFL? I thought you topped out at college ball.”
“I made it onto the roster of the Cleveland Browns and lasted one regular-season play.”
“One play? What the hell happened?”
“Guy laid me out on the kickoff. I died twice on the field. When I came out of the coma my brain had been changed. I was a different person.”
When Mars said nothing in response, Decker looked over at him to find the man gaping at him.
“That’s how you got that, that hyper thing, a perfect memory?”
Decker nodded.
“Come on, you’re bullshitting me,” Mars blurted out.
Decker shook his head. “Bullshitting is no longer really in my wheelhouse, because along with a perfect memory my personality also changed. You see, the brain controls that too. Or certain areas of the brain do.”
“But what happened to you must be rare.”
“Extraordinarily rare.”
“But doing what you do, an investigator and all, it must come in handy to be able to remember everything.”
“It does. But the rest of the time, not so much.”
They drove in silence for a few minutes.
“Why’d you tell me that?” asked Mars. “I mean, you strike me as being pretty private. And it’s not like we’re good buddies or anything. We barely know each other.”
“I wanted you to know that there is no right or wrong answer for what you’re faced with. I know what I want to do. I want to find out what happened to your parents, and who set you up. But that’s me. You have a different set of circumstances, like you said. Other priorities. But I also want you to know that I’m really good at what I do. I’m not good at anything else, but I am good at this. So if you’ll work with me on this case, there’s a really good chance that we’ll get to the bottom of it eventually.”
Mars appraised him. “You know, I do remember you now. From the game, I mean. You had perfect technique, did everything on the field right. Covered me coming out of the backfield just like the coaches drew it up.”
“But you can’t teach speed, or nimbleness, or the ability to change direction on the fly, or field vision. And you had all of that.”
“It wasn’t a fair fight,” said Mars matter-of-factly. “But I also had the added motivation that this was my only way out. That’s the way it is for lots of guys like me. You had other options.”
“Good thing, because I was not going to be in the NFL for long, hit or no hit.”
“I do want to find out what happened to them. And I know you can help me get there.”
“So that means you’re in?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“One more thing, Melvin.”
“What’s that?”
“Sometimes the truth hurts more than not knowing.”
Mars scowled and said, “Thanks for waiting to tell me that until after I agreed to keep going.”
Mars put his seat back, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.