Long Shadows, page 36
He didn’t answer her. He was suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. What if Tyler wasn’t Barry’s alibi? What if Barry was Tyler’s alibi?
Chapter 92
DECKER FINALLY PUT HIS HEAD on his pillow at two in the morning, and yet his mind would not shut off. It was racing like it had never done before; images flashed across the spectrum of his brain at a frightening pace. Yet he could see every single image with great clarity, though what was being presented held little rhyme or reason. But still, it was unnerving.
New lesions, new anomalies. Maybe this is what my future looks like.
But I’m not going to let it control me.
He focused, pushing the stream of consciousness away, and willed himself to concentrate on the case. Four murders had been solved, but there was one outstanding.
Julia Cummins’s killer was still out there. And he couldn’t leave here with that unresolved. And why did I never consider the possibility that it might be Tyler? Because he was a football player working his ass off? Because he…reminded me…of me?
They would have to follow up on Langley, but Decker’s gut was telling him the man was not Cummins’s murderer. Langley believed he had a new sugar momma in hand. Why risk that? But had Perlman’s men killed the woman and lied about it to Perlman? If so, they might never reveal the truth.
But things about Tyler’s potential complicity were now clicking into place and taking Decker to conclusions that he didn’t want to draw. The mother always demanding perfection. The mother with all the rules. The mother always hovering over her only child. Then throwing out Tyler’s father, and maybe Tyler as well, and going off on her own midlife crisis, while complaining about her husband doing the very same thing. What might that have done to her son?
Decker knew that Tyler could have slipped out of the condo while Davidson was on his Zooms. He could have run to his mother’s home; he had done it the night they’d found Davidson there. If he had found his mother there with a dead man? Dressed as she was? What would have happened? A kitchen knife snatched, a chase ensuing, a slaughter to follow? Then he could have run back, gotten back into bed, and no one the wiser.
Shit.
He turned over on his side and stared at the wall. His old bedroom had been painted a similar gray color. It was soothing and Cassie had liked soothing things, particularly after stressful days at the hospital. He recalled the time when Molly, unnerved by the night terrors she sometimes suffered with, would climb into bed with them. Decker could never really understand what was troubling his daughter, but Cassie would hold her, and speak soothing words into her little girl’s ear. Eventually, Molly would calm and fall asleep between them, her fingers usually curled around her father’s huge hand.
What I would give to have that right now. To feel those fingers around mine?
He had wanted to help Tyler through this, to get him closure on his mother’s death. It was evident now, to Decker, that Tyler was a younger him, maybe the son he never had, basking in the glory of his youthful football prowess. But Tyler was also mired in the expectations and uncertainties that came with constantly being thrown against greater and greater competition until the day came when he would realize he was no longer the fastest or strongest, or most athletic. That, in the spectrum of elites, he was mediocre at best. Decker had first tasted that bitter rinse at Ohio State. And then he had been completely humbled when entering the NFL. Those expectations had come close to breaking Decker. The question was: Had they broken Tyler?
Guys like Drew James, Tyler’s teammate, would never experience that dilemma. They would be stopped well short of that lofty—
Decker sat up in bed as the memory plates reordered themselves and fell into place so perfectly that it seemed he had nothing to do with the process. It was like his mind was on autopilot.
James had said that Tyler hadn’t run with them since the morning his mother died. But Cummins didn’t die in the morning, she died at night. So if James really meant that Tyler had not run with them beginning with the morning his mother’s body was found…several hours after Tyler would normally run with the other players? But James had also said something else that was far more critical.
And suddenly Decker knew two things: His superpower had not failed him, regardless of what the Cognitive Institute had said.
And he had just solved Julia Cummins’s murder.
And it wasn’t as simple as one killer for the dead woman.
Chapter 93
IN THE MORNING DECKER AND White drove out to the Davidsons’ condo. They took the elevator up, but to the floor right below the Davidsons’. They spent time inside with the owner, and Decker and White learned what they needed to know.
As they headed back up the elevator to the fourth floor, White looked at Decker.
“So, this occurred to you last night?”
He nodded, looking somber.
“I just don’t get you, Decker. You snatched victory right out of the jaws of defeat, and you act like the criminal got away with it.”
“It all depends on how you define victory and defeat, I guess.”
* * *
Barry Davidson met them at the door with a frown.
“I’m not sure I should even let you in.”
“We didn’t arrest you,” White pointed out. “And now you’re free and clear, so I would hope that smiles and good cheer are in order.”
He stepped aside to let them pass and then escorted them into the living room.
“It does feel good to be home,” he said. “I made some coffee if you want some.”
“Sure,” said White. They headed into the kitchen, where Davidson poured them all cups.
“Where’s Tyler?” asked Decker.
“He left for school already,” Davidson said. “But we’re going out tonight to celebrate. Did my heart good to see him so happy. I sort of feel things are turning around for us both.”
“You mind if I have a look at Tyler’s room?” asked Decker.
“Why?”
“I saw his place at his mom’s house. I wondered if it was the same here.”
Davidson grinned. “Help yourself. You’ll find that here, Tyler is allowed to be a teenager. At his mom’s, not so much. Down the hall, third door on the right.”
“Next to your office, got it.”
Decker left them and went to Tyler’s room, glancing in the open doorway of Davidson’s office as he went by.
As Davidson had intimated, Tyler’s room looked like a typical teenage boy’s space. Movie, music, and sports posters were on the walls. The place was sloppy and cluttered with piles of dirty clothes, athletic equipment, dumbbells, a football helmet and shoulder pads, books, and an iPad lying on the floor. There was an Xbox and a set of VR goggles. There was also a poster of someone named Kaia Gerber in a bikini. And another poster was of a woman called Olivia Rodrigo. Decker didn’t know who either of these beautiful young women were, but he was pretty sure most seventeen-year-old males would recognize them.
And his father was right—this place couldn’t be more different from his room at his mom’s.
He picked up a Black’s Law Dictionary from the desk, flicked through the pages, and found what he thought he might. Then he picked up a book on psychological disorders that had been checked out of the local library. Some pages were marked with Post-it notes. He read through them. He dropped the book and gazed out the window at the Gulf.
Normally, solving a case brought a rush of euphoria.
Not this time.
He left the bedroom and poked his head into the laundry room, where’d he spoken with Tyler previously and the young man had broken down in tears over the loss of his mother. He opened the washing machine and looked inside.
Last night his memory superpower had come back just in the nick of time. Decker had taken everything that he had seen and heard during the course of this investigation and laid it next to everything else. Layer after layer of conversations, seemingly innocent remarks, certain observations, and assorted other evidence had been plucked from his personal cloud and analyzed with one another. And the truth had come out of all that with startling clarity.
It really all was in the smallest details. The ones that seemingly had no importance, right up until the moment they became the only things of importance. People lie really well on the big stuff. But no one can lie well enough to take care of the small inconsistencies.
He rejoined White and Davidson in the kitchen, where she was pouring out more coffee and Davidson was making some eggs and toast. “Don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”
“Knock yourself out,” said Decker.
They sat down and White watched Davidson eat while Decker stared down at his coffee cup.
Davidson said, “So, I heard something about Trevor Perlman being behind all this? What the hell is that all about? He was a good friend and he adored Julia.”
“He had some people killed, including the man and woman found at your ex-wife’s home, but he didn’t have Julia killed,” said Decker.
Davidson slowly put down his fork. “Wait a minute, how is that possible? Whoever killed them also killed Julia.”
“Decker has a theory that there were two different killers,” said White.
Davidson gazed at Decker in disbelief. “Two killers who killed two different people in the same place at the same time? What, are you on drugs?”
“It’s what happened,” said Decker.
“Was it Dennis Langley then? Did that son of a bitch do it?”
“Finish your meal and then we’ll talk.”
Shooting them curious glances, Davidson continued eating.
When he was done, Decker said, “Follow me.”
Chapter 94
DECKER LED THEM NOT TO Tyler’s room but to Davidson’s office.
Decker closed the door behind them, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone.
“The cops forgot to give you this. Remember they took your phone and computer when they arrested you.”
“Yeah, I remember,” groused Davidson. “And I need it all back. I conduct my business on that computer.” He reached out for his phone but Decker didn’t hand it over.
“What gives?” said Davidson. He glanced at White. “What games are you two playing?”
She said, “We talked to your neighbor downstairs, the one who gave you the alibi when he got back into town.”
“Right. Lou Perry. I wish he hadn’t gone out of the country. I never would have been arrested.”
Decker pointed to the set of French doors leading outside. “He was out on his balcony watching some news from overseas on his iPad.”
“So I understand.”
“He said he told you earlier in the day he was going to be out there smoking a cigar, having some scotch. He invited you to join him and maybe play some cards. He’d been in Asia recently and his body clock was still in that time zone. And he knew you were usually up late. But you had meetings.”
“Right again. So?”
“So you knew he’d be out there that night.”
“Okay. So what?”
“He said he called up to you around ten thirty. Heard you outside.”
“I was out on my balcony getting ready for my first Zoom at midnight. I called back to him.”
“Perry also said he heard you off and on from around eleven thirty until he went inside and went to bed close to three. He remembered seeing the times on his iPad.”
“Which is why he knew I couldn’t have been at Julia’s during the time she was killed. Nobody can be in two places at the same time.”
“Yeah, they sort of can.”
“What?”
“A friend of Tyler’s said you record your practice sessions.”
“That’s right.”
Decker held up the phone. “You recorded your ‘Hong Kong practice session’ from that night on a voice memo on your phone.”
“So? I do that a lot.”
“We never had much reason to look at the memo until Lou Perry’s alibi came up, and a few possibilities occurred to me. We played the recording for Perry. He said it was pretty much verbatim what he heard from you that night between one and nearly two.”
“Of course it was. I was getting ready for my second Zoom with the client in Hong Kong then.”
“Not between one and two o’clock you weren’t.” Decker held up the phone again. “Voice memos are time stamped. You recorded your Hong Kong practice session starting at ten fifty, which is shortly after Tyler went to bed, and you finished it at five minutes before midnight.”
“Then how the hell did Perry hear it at one o’clock?”
In answer Decker opened the French doors, went out on the balcony, and set the phone on the top of the waist-high wall that encircled the balcony. “You put it here, turned the volume all the way up, hit play, and left. That made Perry think you were up here the whole time. You used Tyler’s electric bike parked in the foyer. You took it down the back stairs, most likely. On the bike using the motor you could cover the two miles in a few minutes. You went to Julia’s house. You killed her. And then you came back here in plenty of time to clean up and do your next meeting at two.”
“That is crazy.”
“You recorded the Zoom videos, Barry. We watched them. You had on a different shirt between the first and second ones. Why was that?”
“I…I spilled something on my shirt.”
“The geolocator on your phone shows it never left here that night.”
“Because I never left here that night. Look, this is all bullshit. A good lawyer would make mincemeat out of it. You think I murdered my wife and came back here and did a Zoom!”
“You used the word ‘butchered’ before. How did you know that? Because you were the one who did it.”
“You’re nuts!”
“Perry told us he also called up to you around one twenty. But you didn’t answer him.”
“I didn’t hear him, obviously. I was focused on practicing for my next Zoom.”
“No you weren’t. You were probably still at Julia’s. You finished with her, planted your evidence, and rode back here. At that time of night no one would be in the elevator or stairwell to see you coming back in with the bike and the bloody clothes. You cleaned up, changed your clothes, threw the bloody ones in the washing machine, and got ready for your next Zoom. Later, you showered to get the rest of the crap off you.”
“That is all a fantasy, nothing more.”
“‘Res ipsa loquitor’?”
Davidson just stared at him.
“Tyler highlighted the legal phrase in the law dictionary in his bedroom. That phrase was on the card left with Julia’s body. I talked to the medical examiner this morning. She said when Tyler came to ID the body—because you were too upset to do it—the card in the evidence bag was out and clearly visible. I think Tyler saw it. And I think he had heard his mother use that phrase before. With you. And he wanted to know what it meant.”
“You leave my son out of this!” Davidson said warningly.
“I’m not sure that’s possible, Barry. The way I see it, either you killed your wife—or Tyler did. Or you did and he covered up for you. That’s accessory after the fact. That means prison time for him. And he can kiss his college dreams goodbye.”
“Bullshit!” Davidson lunged at Decker, but Decker easily pushed him away. Davidson fell back against his desk.
“I’ll sue your ass off!” bellowed Davidson.
“He was also looking up information on bipolarism. Is that what he thinks you have?”
“My son loves me.”
“Yes, he absolutely does. So are you going to tell us the truth and save him? Or are you going to take your son down with you?”
“What did you mean he was covering up for me?” Davidson said darkly as he slowly got to his feet.
“He washed your clothes that night. They must have still had stains on them even after you laundered them. Then he spilled your drink on purpose, the first time we met you and him. He did that so he could run another load. Probably to get the blood out of the machine and the drains, and all that. Even though you never really can. We’ll be checking that next. Julia Cummins’s blood shows up in one of your drains, Barry, it’s over, for both of you. So what’s it going to be? You, or both of you?”
Davidson snarled, “You son of a bitch. You asshole!”
White put a hand on the butt of her gun and stepped forward. “That is not a solution, Barry. That does not make the problem go away.”
“What do you want from me!” screamed Davidson.
Decker said, “It’s real simple. The truth.”
Davidson slowly sank to the floor, his head in his hands.
Decker sat in a chair and looked down at the man. “You must have been stunned when you walked into Julia’s house and saw the dead guy. And her maybe kneeling next to him. She made up the bullshit about needing a security guard, and then not letting her other gentlemen friends come over to the house. She was afraid of how you might react, wasn’t she? What did you do to make her afraid, Barry? Was it just the stalking, or something else?”
He sat up straighter, leaned back against a desk leg, and wiped at his eyes. “I said some shit. And did some stuff. But she deserved it. She walked out on me when I needed her. Tyler was devastated by the divorce and she didn’t give a shit. She was always on my ass because I just loved life. I wanted to go out and party and feel young. But, no, she was having no part of that. And then what happens? She dumps me and she’s out partying and dressing younger and having the time of her life. All the stuff she said she hated in me! She was a liar. Just a fucking liar.”
“Or maybe she was a single woman approaching middle age who just wanted to have some fun,” said White. “Without you, because she was tired of cleaning up your messes.”
“Go to hell,” barked Davidson.
“Did you go there that night planning to kill her?” asked Decker.
Davidson shook his head. “I didn’t tell you, but I called her that day, from Tyler’s phone. She wouldn’t answer my number. When Tyler told me about his mom needing security I really was concerned. That’s when she told me it was all bullshit. That she was actually screwing the guy. That’s what she said, ‘screwing the guy.’ She basically told me to eat shit and die and then hung up. So I decided to go over that night and find out what was really going on.”
