Zero Day (John Puller, #1)(51)
“Trip wire stretched between two bushes.”
“Someone obviously wanted you dead. Rigged truck, rigged door. One misses, the other one gets you.” She looked around and shivered. And it wasn’t just because the night air was cooler. “My ears are ringing like a church bell.”
Puller wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the destroyed truck.
“You okay, Puller? Did you get hit?”
He shook his head.
“What then?”
“I should’ve seen that wire long before you hit it.”
“But you saw it in time.”
He looked over at her. “That’s not good enough.”
“I need to call a team in to investigate this,” she said. “And the fire department. If these woods catch on fire, it’ll be a nightmare trying to get under control.”
“There’s a spool of hose up near the house. If there’s still water left in the well, I’ll douse the flames.”
“What if there’re more booby-traps?”
“If I miss the triggers again I deserve what I get.”
“Puller, you didn’t miss anything.”
He ignored this. “Got any bomb specialists on board?”
“Lan Monroe knows something about it. But there’s a retired ATF agent who lives outside of town. I can deputize him.”
“I’d do it. Need as much expertise as possible on this one.”
While Cole called it in, Puller got the hose and sprayed down the wreckage and the flames. Within ten minutes two deputies showed up along with two fire engines. Lan Monroe called and said he was on his way. Cole reached the former ATF agent and arranged for him to come as well.
While the firemen took care of the remaining patches of fire and wetted down the truck remains, Puller got the attention of the deputies and pointed to the house. “I wouldn’t go near that sucker right now. What I’d do is find a motorized robot and send it in before anyone with a heartbeat gets close.”
Cole said, “State police has one of those. I’ll make the call.”
After she did that Puller said, “Well, I think we have a dinner to get to.”
“You still want to go?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You have any clean clothes in your car?”
“Always.”
“Then we can stop by my place and shower. And I can change too. My place is closer to the Trents’ than your motel.”
They walked back to their rides while the investigation team stood as far away from the house and detonated truck as possible.
When they reached the road, Sheriff Pat Lindemann was leaning against the passenger door of his Ford. He dabbed his face with a handkerchief and spit on the dirt.
“Exciting times in Drake,” he said as they approached.
“Too exciting,” said Cole.
“You saved me having to get a new sergeant, Puller. I owe you for that.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“What counts is what happened,” said Lindemann. He eyed the drive back through the woods. “You’re making somebody uncomfortable. They left you the note at your motel?”
“Slid it under the door when I was taking a shower.”
“So they’re watching you?”
“It appears to be.”
“You two have any idea what in the hell is going on here?”
“Not yet,” said Cole. “But they just made it personal. So every waking moment of my life is going to be devoted to this, Sheriff.”
He nodded, spat again. “Allergies. Never had ’em before.” He eyed Puller. “You want some protection from our department?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Suit yourself. Well, I best get on. The missus is holding supper for me.”
“You take care, Sheriff,” said Cole.
After he drove away Puller said, “You angling for the job? He already seems to have checked out.”
“He’s a good cop. But he’s been doing this over thirty years and I don’t think he ever expected something like this on the tail end of his career.”
As she opened her car door Cole said, “I found out what you did with Louisa over at Annie’s Motel. That was really good of you.”
“She needed help, so I helped. No big deal. How is she?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to call the hospital. But she’d be dead for sure without you.”
“Do you know her?”
“Everyone knows Louisa. Salt of the earth.”
“It’s nice to help the salts of the earth,” replied Puller quietly. “They usually get the shaft.”
She put a hand on his shoulder. “I want you to stop beating yourself up about that trip wire, Puller.”
“If I’d done that overseas my entire squad would be dead.”
“But we’re not dead.”
“Right,” he said dully.
Puller got in his car and followed her out.
CHAPTER
36
AFTER A TWENTY-FIVE-MINUTE RIDE Cole turned down a street in a neighborhood of older, well-kept homes with wide front porches and nice lawns. She pulled into the driveway of a saltbox that had gray shingle siding, a white picket fence, and colorful landscaping. It looked more New England than West Virginia.