Andrews stopped the car. He said quietly, “It must be that one down there at the end.”
Steve Kelly hadn’t been exaggerating. The homes here really were little more than fishing shacks, some near to falling down, others in little better shape. The tide was coming in and the breakers were noisy.
They got out and started to walk quietly toward the house, keeping off the street.
“There’s her car out front,” said White softly.
It was indeed the SUNNY license plate on the white Camry.
Decker took the front, and White and Andrews went around back. The yard was littered with palm leaves and trash and rotting fish heads. The shacks on either side were dark, and there were no cars in front of them. It seemed the only shack occupied was the Kellys’。
Or was it?
Decker edged up to the front door and peered into the small window to the left of the door. He slipped his gun from its holster and placed his finger near the trigger.
He stepped to the side of the door and knocked.
“FBI, Mrs. Kelly, open the door.”
He could hear movement inside.
“I’ve…I’ve got a gun,” said a woman’s tremulous voice.
“So do we,” said Decker. “I’ll slide my credentials under the door. Take a look at them. We need to talk.”
He did so and a few moments later the door opened, revealing a woman who looked like a decades-older version of Alice Lancer. She had on jeans and a light blue sweater. Her feet were bare. She had a gun in her right hand and Decker’s credentials in her left.
She handed them back to him and he asked her to put the gun down, which she did, laying it on a side table.
She turned around as White and Andrews came in the rear door.
“Mrs. Kelly, we need to ask you a lot of questions,” said Andrews.
She pursed her lips and nodded. “I suppose so. Let’s sit down.”
She led them over to a couch with worn upholstery and two rickety chairs set around a small, scarred coffee table. The interior held the musty odor of having been closed up for a while.
They sat, and Kelly clutched her knees with her long, bony fingers.
Decker studied her and said, “First off, are you Alice Lancer’s biological mother?”
“Yes. I gave her up for adoption right after she was born. I had no job, no way to support a baby. But it was still the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“But you two reconciled at some point,” said White.
“We did. I don’t know how Alice did it, but she found me.”
“Was that why she moved here, to be nearer to you?” asked Andrews.
“That’s what she said. She had lived and worked in the DC area before that. Now she was only a couple hours’ drive away.”
“You must have been surprised when she showed up,” said Decker.
“Stunned, more like it. But as soon as I opened the door and saw her, I knew she was my daughter.”
“Yes, I noticed the resemblance, too.”
“Have they found Alice? Is she all right?”
Andrews and White looked uneasily at one another, but Decker kept his gaze squarely on Kelly.
“She sent you a message, telling you to run?”
Kelly looked down at her lap. “Yes, yes, she did.”
“We need to know all about that.”
“I’m not sure I know all that much.”
“Then tell us what you do know.”
“Alice works at Gamma Protection Services.”
“We know. She supervised Alan Draymont, who was killed at Judge Cummins’s house.”
Kelly’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe Judge Cummins is dead. I really can’t. She was the nicest person.”
“Do you know why she wanted protection?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Did she receive any threats?”
“Not that I knew of.” She was turning red in the face and her words were growing softer.
Decker said, “But she didn’t need protection, did she?”
Kelly looked up at him. “Then why have Gamma at her house?”
Decker didn’t say anything; he just stared at her. He finally said, “If you want to avoid trouble, the truth is your best path forward. If you decide to go a different route, things will get dicey. And keep in mind that Draymont was murdered.”
“But I thought he was killed guarding Judge Cummins?”
Decker decided to bring the conversation full circle to where they started. “Then why would your daughter tell you to run? Run from what? And why?”