Zero Day (John Puller, #1)(23)

“Could be a random burglary,” noted Monroe.

Puller shook his head. “They left a late-model Lexus, a laptop computer, and the wife’s wedding ring. No other valuables known to be missing. And random burglars seldom take the time to interrogate their victims.”

Cole added, “The wife’s parents probably don’t have an enemy in the world. And the wife and kids were just here for the summer. I doubt they had time to make any enemies. That leaves Colonel Reynolds.”

“Maybe. Still have to check it all out.” Puller rose. “Any other prints here that didn’t match the eliminated ones from the first responders?”

“The mailman’s. A caregiver who works at the nursing home. Got her latent on the fridge. She was here to help Mr. Halverson before he went in the nursing home. And two EMTs who were called here when the old lady had her stroke.”

“No others?”

“There were two. On the living room wall and one on the kitchen counter. I’m running the prints through our database.”

Puller said, “Let me have copies and I’ll get them run through the federal databases too.”

“Thanks.”

Puller said, “How did the killers know when the mine blasts would take place? Is that public knowledge?”

“Yes,” said Cole. “There’s a bunch of regulations about surface mining blasting. You have to get proper permits and have a blasting plan in place. You have to post blasting schedules in the local papers well in advance. People close to the blast get personal notification. You have to use a certified blaster. There are limits on noise, so they have to monitor the decibels of the blast. They also have to measure ground vibration. And they often separate the blast charges by eight milliseconds.”

“Why?” asked Monroe, who looked fascinated by the discussion. He caught Puller gazing at him. “Went to WVU but I’m not from around here.”

Cole said, “The eight milliseconds allow enough separation to keep the air blast noise and ground vibration under control.”

Puller gazed at her. “You obviously know a lot about all this. How come?”

She shrugged. “West Virginia gal. Whole state’s one big mine. At least that’s what it feels like sometimes.”

“And didn’t your dad work for Trent Exploration?” asked Monroe.

Cole shot a quick glance at Puller, who was staring at her even more intently. “He did,” she said quietly. “Not anymore.”

“Why not?” asked Puller.

“He’s dead.”

“Sorry to hear that.” He paused for a few moments. “What explosives do they use to do the blasting?”

“Usually ANFO, combination of ammonium nitrate—fertilizer, really—and diesel fuel. They scrape the topsoil and subsoil layers and then drill holes in the rock to lay their charges. The goal is to fracture the rock layers. Then they bring in heavy equipment to expose the coal seam.”

“Why do they blow it up instead of digging tunnels?”

“Decades ago they did tunnel. But getting to the coal that’s left won’t allow tunneling. Softness of the rock. Or so they claim. It’s funny, though.”

“What?” asked Puller.

“Typically blasting has to take place between sunrise and sunset, Monday through Saturday. Trent must’ve gotten a special permit to blast at night and on a Sunday.”

“So the blasting schedule is public knowledge,” said Puller. “Doesn’t help narrow down the list of possible suspects. But tell me about Trent Exploration.”

“Trent is by far the biggest employer in the county.”

“Well-liked outfit?” asked Puller.

Cole pursed her lips. “Nobody loves coal companies, Puller. And the way Trent does it has resulted in entire valleys being filled up with debris. It causes flooding and a host of other environmental issues, not to mention that blowing the tops off mountains leaves the countryside pretty damn ugly. But it’s a hell of a lot cheaper for the company to do it that way. They’re enormously profitable.”

“But it still provides jobs,” added Monroe. “My cousin works at Trent as a geological engineer. Makes a decent living.”

Cole continued. “Roger Trent is sole owner of the company. He’s had his share of code violations and accidents where people have died. And it doesn’t help that he lives in a big mansion behind big gates and gets his water piped in nice and clean because his operations have screwed up the water tables.”

“And folks around here just let that happen?”

“He has junkyard-dog lawyers on retainer, and even though the state’s trying to clean up the judicial sector, he’s still bought up half the judges in the state. But he keeps people employed, pays fair, and gives to charities, and so he’s tolerated. But a few more mining accidents and a few more cancer diagnoses because of all the pollution, and he might get ridden out of here on a rail.”

Puller looked over at the bodies. “How long had the Reynoldses been staying here?”

Cole said, “About five weeks according to folks we talked to.”

“And the colonel was coming and going from D.C.,” added Puller. He looked out the window. “You’ve canvassed the neighbors?”

Cole said, “Seven other homes and we’ve talked to everyone. Got zip.”