Zero Day (John Puller, #1)(109)

“It’s up to you,” Puller said again. “And no, I won’t shoot you.” He took a long breath. “In fact, I’ll back you up.”

“You will? Why?”

He looked over to see her staring at him.

“I just will,” said Puller. “Right thing to do. Sometimes the brass forgets about that little detail. Right thing to do,” he said again.

They saw the lights of the Strauss home up ahead. As Puller turned into the driveway he said, “We can get through this if we keep working together.”

She pressed the palms of her hands against the dash, as though trying to slow down runaway thoughts attempting to escape her mind.

He reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “You’re not alone, Sam. I’m right here with you.”

She turned to him. “First time you’ve called me Sam.”

“I’m in the Army. We’re a formal race of people.”

This drew a rare smile from her. She patted his hand.

“I’m good… John.” She looked at him. “Is that okay? That I sometimes call you John? I know that probably sounds silly with everything that’s going on, to worry about something like that.”

“It’s fine. And it’s better than Romeo, I guess.”

“Or Juliet,” she replied.

CHAPTER

78


THE STRAUSS HOME was a little over half the size of the Trents’, which meant it was enormous by Drake standards. And by most American standards, Puller thought. It stood within its own five-acre grounds and even had a little gate out front, though there was no guard here as there was at Trent’s mansion.

Cole had called ahead and roused Strauss and his wife from their beds. The couple was waiting for them when they rang the doorbell. Mrs. Strauss was a large-boned fleshy woman who had taken the time to fix her hair after being awoken in the middle of the night. She wore slacks, a blouse with the bottom untucked, and an expression that was devastated.

Bill Strauss was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. He had an unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers. Perhaps Mrs. Strauss, like Rhonda Dougett, did not allow smoking in her house.

They sat huddled on a couch together while Cole explained what had happened. When she came to the gunshot Bill Strauss looked up.

“So you’re saying someone murdered him? Killed Dickie on purpose?”

Puller said, “I was there. That’s exactly what happened.”

Strauss gazed at him. “You were there? At the firehouse? Why?”

Cole answered. “That’s not relevant, Mr. Strauss.”

“Do you have any leads on the killer?”

“We have better than that,” said Puller. “We have the killer.”

Both Strausses gaped at him. Bill Strauss said, “You caught him? Who is he? Why did he kill our son?”

“We don’t know who he is. And we can’t ask him why he killed Dickie, because he killed himself a few minutes after he shot your son.”

Mrs. Strauss started to weep softly into her hands while her husband slid a hand around her shoulders. When the woman completely broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably a few moments later, her husband led her off down the hall.

Puller and Cole sat there waiting for him to return. Puller rose after a couple of minutes and started looking around the room.

Strauss came back in a minute later. He said, “I’m sorry about that. But I’m sure you can understand how distressed we both are.”

“Absolutely,” said Cole. “We can come back another time, if you’d like. I know this is very difficult.”

Strauss sat back down and shook his head. “No, let’s just get it over with.”

This time he did light up and blew the smoke off to the side.

“We’re trying to find out who the dead man is. If we do, it could help break the case.”

“So you’re sure he’s not from around here?” asked Strauss.

“Don’t think so, but we’ll confirm it.”

“Any reason you can think of why someone would want to harm your son?” asked Cole.

“Not a one. Dickie didn’t have any enemies. He had friends. He had his buddies in the motorcycle club.”

“Where did he work?” asked Puller.

“He… uh, he didn’t currently have a job,” said Strauss.

“Well, where did he last work?”

“There isn’t much work in Drake.”

“Well, there’s Trent Exploration,” said Puller. “And you’re the COO.”

“Certainly. That’s right. But Dickie didn’t want to work at Trent.”

“Why’s that?”

“Just wasn’t something he was interested in.”

“So you supported him?” asked Puller.

“What?” Strauss said distractedly. “We, that is to say, I would give him money from time to time. And he lived at home. He was our only child. Maybe we spoiled him.” He paused, drawing a sharp breath and with it more nicotine into his lungs. “But he didn’t deserve to be murdered.”

“Of course not,” said Cole.

“If he lived here,” said Puller, “we’ll need to search his room at some point.”