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She nodded.

As they edged down the hall the noises became clearer.

Decker glanced in confusion at White.

It sounded like someone sobbing.

They reached the doorway leading into the bedroom, Decker on the right, White on the left. The door was partially closed.

Decker held up three fingers, then lowered them one by one. With the drop of the final finger, he kicked open the door and they surged inside, their guns arcing in front of them.

And then coming to hold on the man sitting on the bed.

Barry Davidson was the source of the sobs.

They did not lower their pistols, because Davidson also had a gun in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.

He looked up at them in bewilderment.

“What th-the f-fuck are you doing h-here?”

“Mr. Davidson,” said Decker, “we need you to put that gun down, right now.”

Davidson glanced at the gun, his expression one as though he were seeing the weapon for the first time and wondering how it had gotten in his hand.

“I-it’s m-my gun. B-bought and p-paid for.”

“I’m sure, but guns and liquor don’t really mix,” said White.

“It’s my g-gun.”

“Put it down,” said Decker.

“O-only had one l-little d-drink.”

“I think it was more than one. But let’s talk about it.Afteryou put the gun down.”

“This is m-my h-house. Can b-be here if…if I want t-to.”

“Let’s talk about it, downstairs. After you put the gun down.”

Instead Davidson lifted the gun and placed the muzzle next to his cheek.

“You don’t want to do that, Barry,” warned Decker, the imagined images of Mary Lancaster in her final moments lurching back into his head.

“J-Julia’s gone. G-gone. G-got nothing l-left. Wh-what’s it m-matter? You tell me.”

His finger edged closer to the trigger.

Decker said, “You have Tyler, you have your son left. You going to leave him all alone? Is that what a father does? Leave his teenager to pick up the pieces?”

Davidson looked up at Decker, maybe seeing him for the first time.

“T-Tyler deserves b-better than me.”

“But you’re all he has left. So give me the gun and we can talk about it.”

Davidson didn’t move the gun, but his finger did slip away from the trigger. He shook his head stubbornly. “Y-you think I k-killed her.”


Tags: David Baldacci Amos Decker Thriller