DECKER

Decker ignored the second, third, and fourth eye-roll Delle shot his way as he sat at his laptop, making calls and answering emails. He had grown accustomed to Delle's impatience over the years and had learned to put it on the back burner of his mind, mostly. 

She had suggested pushing the facade they were creating, heading out on the town, and making a show of it for the Heist King to see, but Decker couldn't stomach that. He drew the line at fake dating. Especially since his feelings for her were still a raw thing that left him unsettled as she sat across the hotel room, arms crossed, feet propped up on the coffee table. 

He had merely suggested they hold out in the hotel for two days, knowing the message that would send. Knowing that if the Heist King was anything like him— and she had all but said she was— she would assume that they had picked up where they had left off on that rooftop months ago, kissing like their world was ending. 

That kiss...

Decker had forgotten the 'trapped in the same hotel room' part of their plan, and what that would entail. Two days of sharp conversation, aggressive jabs, a dozen room service charges, and long painful silences. The two days were nearly over, and Delle looked ready to claw his eyes out. A truth he felt and sympathized with.

Decker blinked away the memory, feeling sick and confused by the power it still held over him, and glared back down at his laptop, angrily clacking at the keys. 

"You don't have to act like I'm the plague. Staying in here was your idea."

Decker's phone ringing saved him from another of many sharp comments. 

"Gooooooood afternoon grumpy man, I have daily updates for you while you question your life choices."

He heard Delle's laugh from across the room and schooled his irritated expression as Bex continued. "Our employer has reached out and wants a meeting to hear progress." 

"Tell our contact I can take a call—"

"Not the contact. The owner. The one who hired us. He wants to meet in person. And can connect with you wherever you happen to be in the world."

This was good news. Decker needed to read their mysterious owner in person to get anything concrete on him. "Any information on him?"

"Nothing concrete. For someone who deals in tech, he is surprisingly hard to pinpoint online." 

"What do you have?"

Decker heard Bex's fingers run over her keyboard, clacking quickly. "He's a man in his early fifties. At least that's my guess based on when he graduated from UCLA. There are no pictures of him online. He started his company from the ground up, preferring to work behind the scenes. His employees are the face of his company. I couldn't find a record of him before UCLA. It's like he just showed up one day, past erased. Strange, but not unheard of for someone who wants to be taken a certain way."

Decker nodded. "Thanks, Bex. Any news on the girl in the morgue?" 

After the Heist King had stolen Harrow Kells name and fingerprints, leaving Decker the challenge of solving the mystery of a girl in the morgue, Bex had been scouring the databases looking for information on the mysterious Jane Doe. 

"Her body was finally claimed. Twenty five year old woman named Alisha Boston. A victim of a hit and run. Her body was found in Brooklyn five days ago."

"Why did it take so long to ID her?"

Bex sighed. "Her wallet was gone."

Decker got that strange feeling. The one that told him something about a picture had been tampered with. A crime scene had been touched. A tower had been built on an unstable foundation. Something about Bex's words left him unsettled. "If it was a hit and run... why was her wallet gone?" 

I glanced at Delle who was already raising her brow. She saw it too. The skewed details. "It doesn't fit," she agreed. 

It was a rare moment where Delle and Decker were on the same page. Work had always been a safe place for them. A place of understanding. Where there sameness was an asset. And Decker had to admit that he should have never pushed for something different. A lesson he swore to remember. Work and romance didn't mix. 

His head spun, details and pieces of the hit and run hovering through his mind as he adjusted the picture, trying to find the correct spaces for the pieces. "It wasn't a hit and run. Something happened before the car. Whoever did this knew her. Where there any cameras? Any buildings nearby?"

"Not that I could find," Bex admitted.

"As in erased or there was no building close enough?" Decker clarified.

"All footage from nearby buildings was erased."

He was on to something. He was dealing with a coverup. The scent of a clue sent his mind rolling into his next angle. "Dash cams? A parked car nearby could have caught what happened."

Bex hesitated. "That will require a lot of back door digging. I'll have to find all the cars that were in the area, their license plates, their dash cam log in and then hack into every single one."

Decker was undeterred. The answer was there. Hidden but close. "Can you do it?"

"Psh. Obviously. It's just a matter of what you want me to focus on. Unless you want me to find another hacker for this job?"

"No. No one else. Keeping tabs on the Heist King is our top priority. But see what you can do with your spare time. You're allowed to take on overtime to get this done. Charge it to the agency."

Bex's smile was apparent in her answer. "Awesome. Extra money to stalk people. I knew I went into the right job."

"There's... one more thing," Bex said, her tone suddenly hesitant. "Your mom called."

Decker felt every part of him stiffen. "She called you?"

"She said she couldn't reach you," Bex said by way of explanation. "She said she didn't have your new number and used the number you left on the fridge the last time you were home."

Decker pinched his nose, eyes falling shut. He had completely forgotten to let her know he had changed his number, guilt crawling up his spine. 

"When did she call?"

"About ten minutes ago."

Decker found it hard to breathe, barely able to hear Bex's assurances over the roaring in his ears. 

 "It's okay, Decker. She's fine." Bex's calm tone did little to alleviate the guilt. 

"Okay." Decker hung up, his heart in his throat, his fingers running over the familiar pattern on his phone screen as he put in his mom's number. A warm voice that made Decker feel loved and five years old all in three words answered. 

"Hello, Decker residence."

"Hey mom," Decker said moving toward the bathroom and closing the door behind him when he felt Delle's eyes on him. He couldn't hide his face when it came to his mom, and he didn't want to have to. He deserved to be open and feel safe. His mother was the only one he could bare to do that with. 

"Jamey! How are you?" 

Decker caught his soft smile in the bathroom mirror and almost didn't recognize himself before quickly turning away. "I'm good mom. I heard you called. I'm sorry I forgot to give you my new number. Are you okay?"

His mother laughed. "I thought that was it. But you never know with my mind these days. That's why I called the number on the fridge."

Decker sat down on the edge of the tub, a deep ache filling his chest. He missed her, and the biggest downside of taking on a job that led him across the world was being unable to check in on her. 

After his father had left, Decker and his mother had tackled the world, leaning on each other and protecting each other. For years it was just the two of them, until Decker left, leaving his mother alone. 

Another crack of guilt skittered across his ribcage. He needed to find a way to visit her soon. She didn't deserve to be alone.

"You need anything?" Decker asked, his voice soft.

"Yeah. For you not to worry. I'm surrounded by people. I'm not alone so stop painting that sorry picture in your head. It's a lie and makes me look bad!" 

Decker gave a wet laugh, a surprising sound that was so rare that he turned on the faucet so Delle wouldn't hear it. He didn't need anyone else to hear him when he was feeling utterly raw. 

He could imagine his mother sitting in her living room, her hair a filled with whips of blond and white. Smile wrinkles around her deep brown eyes. He could see her abandoned crossword on the coffee table, surrounded by half drunk cups of tea. He shut his eyes, soaking in the sound of her voice.

"I was calling to let you know that I am so proud of you.For this new job. I know I can't know the details, but from what your girlfriend hinted at—"

"Bex isn't my girlfriend," Decker said with a shudder. "Just someone I work with."

"Well, you should have a girlfriend, but I'll skip the rant this time. Anyway, I know this is a big job, and I know you are going to find whoever is behind the thing I don't get to know about."

Decker laughed. "Thanks mom."

"That's the best encouragement I can give when I don't get to know details!" she said, tone part sass and part scolding. "Anyway, the other reason why I called was to tell you that a friend of mine from my hometown is in my bridge club! Can you believe it? I haven't seen her in years!"

For a moment, Decker wasn't sure how to respond. His mom had early onset Alzheimer's, currently living in a facility with the best care he could afford, which wasn't enough. She deserved a better place, which was one of the reasons why Decker worked so hard. 

And as he listened to his mother's words, it was a moment— which was becoming more common as time went on— where Decker didn't know if this was real, or a past memory sparking to the front of her mind, so real that it had written itself into her present day.

"Decker," his mother scolded. "I'm not that far gone! She's real! And she's here! You used to play in her yard!" 

Decker bit back a swear, fully aware of how his mother felt about his habit, and smiled again as he stared at the bathmat down at his feet. His lie detecting skills were part learned and part gifted from his mother's uncanny ability to read him over the phone.

"That's great mom."

"Darn right it is! She's terrible at bridge! Finally someone worse than me!" She laughed, amused by her joke. 

They talked for several more minutes and then his mother hung up, realizing she was late for bingo, leaving Decker sitting alone in the bathroom, the sink faucet running, the only sound in the deep, aching silence.

Decker stared down at his phone, heart pounding, blood roaring in his ears. He needed to catch the Heist King. No, he needed to destroy her. Trap her. Bring her to justice.

If he could prove to his client that he had proof of her existence, that he was on her trail, then the job alone would be able to help him move his mother closer to him. To a place that was better. To a life that was better. He needed to do better. Be better, for her. 

Decker turned off the faucet, and walked back into the bedroom, a plan quickly forming. 

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Thank you for reading chapter eight! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

What do you think of Decker's mom?

Will Decker be able to move his mother closer? 

What does Decker have planned?

Will Delle and the Heist King have a run in with each other?

Will Delle stick around and help Decker?

CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever done a hard job to help someone else? What was it?