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“Yeah, but is that a fair trade-off?”
“Some would think it is.”
They sat there in silence for a few moments. Finally, he said, “I sometimes remember who I used to be, Alex. Only I can’t be that person again. I know that.” Before she could reply, he rose. “I’m going to shower and change.”
She looked up at him. “Okay. I’ll do the same.”
“Did Virginia Cole contact you yet about the teacher who was friends with Berkshire?”
“Not yet. I can ping her today about it.”
“We’ve been trying the Berkshire angle for a while and we’ve come up empty. So let’s go back to Walter Dabney. We need to find out where he went on that trip.”
“You think it’s important?”
“He went somewhere and came back changed. I’d like to know why.”
* * *
Ellie Dabney was sitting in her kitchen staring out the window when Decker and Jamison were shown in by the housekeeper.
“Are your kids still here?” asked Decker.
“Yes, but they’re out finalizing the funeral arrangements. I just can’t seem to…”
“Did your daughter from France get in?” asked Jamison.
“Natalie arrived yesterday. She didn’t go with the others. She’s upstairs asleep. Jet lag. And…” Her voice trailed off once more.
“Right,” said Decker, sitting down across from her.
Ellie Dabney looked like she had aged twenty years. Her face sagged, her hair was unkempt, and her tall, athletic body had collapsed in on itself. Decker wondered if she’d been taking her depression meds.
Jamison sat down next to her. “I know how incredibly hard this has been on you.”
“Do you?” demanded Ellie. “Do you have a husband who murdered someone and then shot himself?”
“No, I don’t. I was just—”
“I understand what you were trying to do. I’m sorry. I just can’t…” She simply shook her head.
“Has anyone else been by to see you?” asked Decker.
“Like who?”
“Other federal agents?”
Ellie shook her head. “No, do you expect them to?”
“It’s possible.” Decker leaned toward her across the table. “Were you aware that your husband might have had a gambling problem?”
“Gambling problem?” scoffed Ellie. “Walt wouldn’t have known a craps table from a roulette wheel.”
“And you base this on what?”
“Did someone say he had a gambling problem? Someone at work?”
“Not at work, no.”
“Who then?”
“I’m not at liberty to disclose that. But you don’t think that’s possible, I take it?”
“I never knew Walt to even buy a lottery ticket. He thought it was stupid. Like flushing your money down the toilet.”
“Have you checked with your bank recently? To see if there might be any funds missing? Or maybe you have a financial manager?”
“We do. And he actually called yesterday to check in and see if I needed anything. And though we didn’t talk business, I’ve known him a long time, and if there were any issues with our money, I’m sure he would have told me.”
Decker glanced at Jamison. “Okay, that’s good to know.”
“Why would someone think Walt was a gambler?”
“They thought he might need the money.”
“Why? Look around. It’s not like we’re destitute.” As soon as she finished speaking, Ellie’s face flushed and she looked ready to burst into fresh tears.
Decker was about to say something else, but Jamison snagged his arm and said, “You’re absolutely right. Thank you. We’ll be leaving now.”
As they walked to the front door, Decker glanced up the stairs to see a young woman standing at the top in a long T-shirt. Her face was red, presumably from crying. She was tottering on her bare feet and staring down at Decker with a hopeless look.
Decker raced up the stairs with Jamison right behind. He caught the woman before she fell. He lifted her up in his arms.
Jamison said, “This must be Natalie. That door is open. Maybe it’s her bedroom. Is she okay?”
“She’s drunk,” said Decker, sniffing her breath.
Jamison held open the door and Decker passed through and laid Natalie on the unmade bed. He looked around and saw the suitcase by the wall. He fingered the airline tag still on it.
“Charles de Gaulle Airport. Okay, that confirms this is Natalie, the one who lives in France.”
He glanced over at Natalie. It was then he noticed that she had two toes missing on her right foot.
“Are you sure she’s okay?” asked Jamison.
“Until the hangover kicks in.”
They turned to see Ellie standing in the doorway. “I’ll take it from here.” She ushered them out and closed the bedroom door after them. “This really has destroyed our family,” she said.
“I guess so,” said Decker.
As they walked outside, Jamison said, “So maybe Miss high-and-mighty Harper Brown lied to us. Maybe Walter Dabney didn’t have a gambling problem.”
Decker went over to Jamison’s car and stood next to it, surveying the property but not really seeing it.
“What is it?” she asked.
Decker didn’t answer, because the frames were whizzing by in his head. He went from first to last and last to first. Then he turned to Jamison.
He said, “Brown told us that Dabney was selling secrets.”
“Right. To pay for his gambling debts.”
“She never said they were his gambling debts.”
CHAPTER
24
HARPER BROWN HAD just sat down across from Decker at the café where Walter Dabney had gone right before killing Berkshire. She was dressed in a black two-piece suit with a seafoam-green blouse.
