The Escape (John Puller, #3)(113)

The man jumped up so fast that what he was holding fell to the floor. Luckily the floor was thickly carpeted, or else it might have cracked.

“Who…who are you?” Abernathy said in a quavering voice as he backed away.

He was a slender man, barely a hundred and forty pounds, and maybe five-six in his shoes. He was dressed in blue slacks, leather shoes with no socks, and a patterned shirt. His sports jacket had a pocket handkerchief that matched the shirt. A Tag Heuer watch was on his left wrist. His hair was thinning but was professionally styled and swept back off his forehead and held there with gel. He was clean-shaven and his light blue, intelligent eyes were streaked with red.

Puller held out his creds. “I’m a military investigator. Chief Warrant Officer John Puller, United States Army, 701st CID out of Quantico.”

The man glanced at the CID shield and the ID card but didn’t seem to really register on either.

“I… I guess you’re here about Tim,” he said in a hollow voice.

“General Daughtrey, yes.”

“Someone killed him.”

“I’m aware of that. And how do you know General Daughtrey?”

Abernathy wouldn’t meet his eye. “We were friends…Good friends.”

“I understand that you two co-owned this condo.”

Abernathy looked taken aback that Puller knew this.

“The guard downstairs told me. That’s why he let you up here.”

Abernathy slowly nodded, bent down, and picked up the framed photograph he’d been holding.

Puller drew closer and said, “May I?” indicating the photo.

Abernathy said resignedly, “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Puller took the photo. It was of Daughtrey, who was out of uniform, and Abernathy in a friendly embrace, their gazes on each other. They looked like a nice couple. Happy, relaxed. Very much into each other.

Puller glanced up at him. “I take it you two were close… friends?”

Abernathy gave a noiseless laugh. “Let’s not beat around the bush anymore, okay? I’m really done with that shit, pardon my language. We were a lot more than friends.”

“I see.”

“Then you can understand why we had to keep things under the radar.”

“DADT isn’t the law anymore, sir,” said Puller, referring to Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

“Isn’t it?” Abernathy said skeptically. “Well, for one-stars fighting their way up the ranks it might as well be an elephant chained around their ankles. You’re in the military. You know that as well as anyone. How many generals have come out recently?”

“One that I can think of. An Army reservist promoted to brigadier general a couple of years ago.”

“A woman,” pointed out Abernathy. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled for her. Absolutely thrilled. But I didn’t see any male officers rushing to join that gay parade.”

“No sir, at least not yet.”

“Maybe not ever.”

“They’re starting to come forward in professional sports, basketball, even football. If it can happen in the NFL, then you never know.”

“The military is a different beast. I’ve certainly learned that lesson.”

“So, General Daughtrey and you? Can you tell me about your personal life?”

“Why?” snapped Abernathy. But he quickly calmed. “I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s just a very difficult time for me.”

“I can completely understand that, sir. And what you tell me will go no further. I’m just asking because it might help my investigation. That’s all.”

Abernathy nodded and wiped at his eyes, composed himself, and sat down in a chair. “We’ve been together for about ten years. Ten great years. But all in secret. We even bought this condo under the name of a corporation. We don’t appear in public together. I will receive no benefits now that Tim’s dead. Not that I care about that. I’m a partner in a large law practice. I’ve made my pile of money, far more than Tim. Hell, I paid for most of the things in this place, and did the design myself. You see, I didn’t really want to be a lawyer. I wanted to be the next Ralph Lauren. But life doesn’t always work out how you want it.”

He eyed the floor. “But it’s the principle of the thing, really. I have no rights whatsoever. I won’t even be able to attend his burial at Arlington. No one will present me with a flag. His parents will get that, even though they’ve had nothing to do with him for years. I helped vet his speeches. Helped him prepare for every promotion review. Cooked for him and looked after him when he was sick. And just so you know, he did as much for me. We traveled together. We vacationed together, but always with the sword of Damocles over us. Meaning we got to the places separately and left them separately. When people asked about my presence, we told them I was his old friend,” he added bitterly. “Friggin’ old friend.” His laugh turned to a sob.

“I can see how hard that must have been,” said Puller.

Abernathy looked up at him. “This is 2014, not 1914. It just doesn’t make sense to me that other people can dictate who I can or can’t openly love. It’s disgraceful.”

Puller handed the photo back and looked around the space. “Did you come up here to collect some things?”