Decker didn’t respond; he shifted his gaze to look out the window, where it was dark.
“They’re getting ready to enter the bunker,” said Robie. “And clean out all the crap.”
“Good to know.”
“It’s not a bad thing for people to do from time to time. Clean out the crap.”
This caused Decker to look at the man. “You never struck me as being a philosopher.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“I don’t know. First thing that popped into my head.”
“I guess I can see that.”
“People often feel the need to give me advice,” said Decker, a bite to his words.
Robie nodded slowly. “I felt the same way, until I realized I had never followed any of that advice, and then suddenly I was in a place I didn’t want to be.”
“And are you out of that place now?”
“Not even close. But just think where I’d be if I hadn’t even considered other possibilities.” A few moments of quiet passed before Robie rose and said, “I’ll leave you to it.”
He headed to the front of the jet.
Decker called after him. “Going to Memorial Bridge after we land?”
“Always.” He glanced back. “Everyone needs a . . . place, right?”
NEARLY THREE HOURS LATER, the jet touched down in DC and rolled to a stop. After deplaning, the four said their good-byes.
Jamison shook Robie’s and Reel’s hands. “I hope this isn’t the last time we see you.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” said Reel, her eyes twinkling. “We usually only show up when the world is about to end.”
“Well, if it is, I wouldn’t mind you having our backs.”
Decker shook Reel’s hand, then turned to Robie and said, “Enjoy your Memorial Bridge time.”
“And you enjoy wherever you end up going for your ‘quiet time.’ ”
* * *
As Decker and Jamison were heading to the terminal, she said, “I don’t think I ever want to go back to North Dakota.”
“Hey, don’t hold it against the state. And Kelly, Shane, and Caroline will have it in tip-top shape in no time.”
She glanced at him. “But I still don’t understand how you could call this case simple. Look at everything you figured out, everything you said back at Liz’s place.”
“But the critical part that allowed me to grab the end of the chain and run with it? That was simple.”
“What do you mean?”
“Greed, Alex, one of the oldest motives in the book. It explains everything Liz did.”
“I think there’s one more thing to add to that, Decker.”
“What’s that?” he said, looking at her in surprise.
“Maybe the oldest motive in the book to hurt someone else.”
“Which is?”
“Love,” she said simply. “Liz’s twisted, terrible love for Caroline. But love all the same.”
Decker let out a long sigh and nodded. “I think that’s the most insightful thing either one of us has said during this case, Alex.”
“High praise coming from you,” she said.
As they entered the terminal Decker said, “Um, my sister invited me to visit her and the kids out in California in a couple of weeks. Stan’s flying out, too.”
“That’s great, Decker. Are you going to go?”
“I haven’t made up my mind.”
She looked at him closely. “Well, I think you should. And I mean it. After everything that just happened, a little family time might do you wonders. I know I’m going to visit my family. I need some hugs and kisses.”
Decker said, “I know that, Alex. I did have a family, you know.”
“You still have a family, Amos,” she shot back.
They took a cab to the condo they shared in southeast DC.
When they got there, Jamison took a shower, changed into sweats, dropped into bed, and fell right asleep.
Decker put his coat back on and went for a walk down near the Anacostia River.
On the other side of town, he figured, Will Robie would be making his way about now to Memorial Bridge and the Potomac to do his brooding.
Decker took a seat on a bench and looked out at the dark flowing waters and the lights beyond.
Now what? as Robie had implied.
He took out his phone and called his sister.
Renee answered on the second ring. “My God, Amos, Stan called and told me some of what happened. It’s a miracle you’re all still alive.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“I suppose this sort of thing happens to you a lot.”
“Maybe more than most. Look, about coming to see you and the kids?”
“Rest assured, we’ll give you your own space. No suffocating you with love and affection on my watch,” she added in a lighthearted tone. When she next spoke, her voice, though, had lost its frivolity. “Will . . . will you come?”
He didn’t answer right away. “I’m not sure, Renee. I’ll have to let you know.”
“O-okay.” Her tone of disappointment bounded over the ether and hit Decker as hard as anyone ever had on the football field.
“There’s just a lot going on.”
“I know. And, Amos, regardless of whether you come or not?”
“Yeah?”
“You will always be loved, little brother.”
“I’m not sure I deserve that, Renee.”
“Well, I think you’ve earned it. And coming from your sister, I hope you know how big a deal that is.”
She clicked off and he rose and started walking. Perhaps in search of his Memorial Bridge. Perhaps in search of something . . . anything else. And terrified that he would never be able to find it, because maybe it did not exist for someone like him.
He took out the photo of Cassie and Molly and studied it under the moonlight.
Time did not heal all wounds for him. It barely touched them, in fact. It was like pouring iodine on a cancerous tumor.
I don’t miss you less and less. I miss you more and more. And I’m so sorry there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.
Decker put the photo away and started to walk on, but then stopped.
In his mind’s eye were the images of his wife and daughter.
He just stood there, frozen for a few moments. They seemed to be talking to him, somehow communicating something he already knew, but simply refused to acknowledge.
And then Jamison’s last words came back to him.
You still have a family.
Decker slowly reached into his pocket, took out his phone, and punched in the number.
“Renee?”
“Amos, what’s wrong?”
“I just wanted to tell you that . . . that I’ll be there.”
The idea for this story came from three things I learned about North Dakota. First, the Stanley R. Mickelsen Safeguard Complex is an Air Force eye-in-the-sky installation near Grand Forks, North Dakota. Second, the Air Force auctioned off some of the adjacent land in 2012. Third, the auction was won by a sect of Anabaptist Hutterites, who established a community there.
Then I created my own Air Force installation, which I set on the opposite side of North Dakota, amid all the fracking operations, and the plot took off from there.
Hope you enjoyed the story.
To Michelle, here comes Amos Decker again. I know you like the big guy.
To Michael Pietsch, for your continued support.
To Ben Sevier, Elizabeth Kulhanek, Jonathan Valuckas, Matthew Ballast, Beth deGuzman, Anthony Goff, Rena Kornbluh, Karen Kosztolnyik, Brian McLendon, Albert Tang, Andy Dodds, Ivy Cheng, Joseph Benincase, Andrew Duncan, Morgan Swift, Bob Castillo, Laura Eisenhard, Sean Ford, Kristen Lemire, Briana Loewen, Mark Long, Thomas Louie, Rachael Kelly, Kirsiah McNamara, Nita Basu, Lisa Cahn, Megan Fitzpatrick, Michele McGonigle, Alison Lazarus, Barry Broadhead, Martha Bucci, Rick Cobban, Ali Cutrone, Raylan Davis, Tracy Dowd, Jean Griffin, Elizabeth Blue Guess, Juli
e Hernandez, Erica Hohos, Linda Jamison, John Leary, John Lefler, Rachel Hairston, Suzanne Marx, Christopher Murphy, Rob Philpott, Barbara Slavin, Karen Torres, Mary Urban, Jeff Shay, Carla Stockalper, and everyone at Grand Central Publishing, for being a great team.
To Aaron and Arleen Priest, Lucy Childs, Lisa Erbach Vance, Frances Jalet-Miller, John Richmond, and Juliana Nador, for all you do, and it’s a lot.
To Mitch Hoffman, for once more pushing me to do better!
To Anthony Forbes Watson, Jeremy Trevathan, Trisha Jackson, Alex Saunders, Laura Sherlock, Sara Lloyd, Claire Evans, Sarah Arratoon, Stuart Dwyer, Jonathan Atkins, Anna Bond, Leanne Williams, Natalie Young, Stacey Hamilton, Laura Ricchetti, Charlotte Williams, and Neil Lang at Pan Macmillan, for such a great tour last year and allowing me to dress up in my kilt. 2020 is looking great!
To Praveen Naidoo and the wonderful team at Pan Macmillan in Australia.
To Caspian Dennis and Sandy Violette, for doing what you do so well!
And to Kristen White and Michelle Butler, for helping me in so many ways!
About the Author
David Baldacci is one of the world’s bestselling and favourite thriller writers. With over 130 million worldwide sales, his books are published in over 80 territories and 45 languages, and have been adapted for both feature film and television. David is also the co-founder, along with his wife, of the Wish You Well Foundation®, a non-profit organization dedicated to supporting literacy efforts across the US. Still a resident of his native Virginia, he invites you to visit him at DavidBaldacci. com and his foundation at WishYouWellFoundation.org.
Trust him to take you to the action.
BY DAVID BALDACCI
The Camel Club Series
The Camel Club • The Collectors
Stone Cold • Divine Justice
Hell’s Corner
King and Maxwell series
Split Second • Hour Game • Simple Genius • First Family
The Sixth Man • King and Maxwell
Shaw series
The Whole Truth • Deliver Us From Evil
John Puller series
Zero Day • The Forgotten • The Escape • No Man’s Land
Will Robie series
The Innocent • The Hit • The Target • The Guilty • End Game
Amos Decker series
Memory Man • The Last Mile • The Fix
The Fallen • Redemption • Walk the Wire
Atlee Pine series
Long Road to Mercy • A Minute to Midnight
Vega Jane series
The Finisher • The Keeper • The Width of the World
The Stars Below
Other novels
True Blue • Absolute Power • Total Control • The Winner
The Simple Truth • Saving Faith • Wish You Well
Last Man Standing • The Christmas Train • One Summer
One Good Deed
Short Stories
No Time Left • Bullseye
First published 2020 by Grand Central Publishing, USA
First published in the UK 2020 by Macmillan
This electronic edition published 2020 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
The Smithson, 6 Briset Street, London EC1M 5NR
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-5098-7455-2
Copyright © 2020 by Columbus Rose, Ltd.
Cover Design: Neil Lang, Pan Macmillan Art Department
Jacket images: Figures © Arcangel; rocks and oil rig © Shutterstock
& background image © Millennium
The right of David Baldacci to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Pan Macmillan does not have any control over, or any responsibility for, any author or third-party websites referred to in or on this book.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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