Zero Day (John Puller, #1)(53)

“I checked on the certified delivery package at the post office.”

She glanced at him. “How?”

“Just asked some questions.”

“Didn’t want to wait on me?”

“Speed sometimes is crucial. And the post office is only three minutes away from the motel.”

He smiled and she smirked in return. “So tell me what you found out.”

“It was a firm that does soil testing.”

“Why would the Reynoldses be testing soil?”

“I wish I knew.”

“And if the dog didn’t eat the package, that means whoever killed Larry Wellman came back and took it. But, again, how would they even know it was there?”

Puller finished his water and screwed the cap back on. “Like I said, they might have deduced it the same way we did. They realized the mailman found the bodies. Why was that, unless he had a delivery to make at the house that required a signature? That would be the only reason for him to have come into the house. So what was in the package? They came back to find out. Didn’t know what it was, but couldn’t take a chance.”

“But how would they know we hadn’t found it?”

Puller said, “Maybe they’re getting some inside info.”

“I can’t believe I’ve got someone on my police force that’s helping the other side.”

“I’m not saying it’s a fact. I’m just saying you have to consider it.”

“And the bombing?”

“I actually take that as a good sign.”

“Meaning you’re making someone nervous, like the sheriff said?”

“Yes.”

“If it is connected to the murders. You ticked Dickie and his big buddy off.”

“You think they’d retaliate by trying to blow me up?”

“No. You’re probably right.” She closed her eyes again and rested her head against the back of the swing. She rubbed her temples again and grimaced.

“I didn’t even ask if you were okay,” he said in a low voice. “I hit you pretty hard. Are you okay? No concussion or anything?”

“I’m fine. You knocked the wind out of me, but it was better than the alternative.” She opened her eyes and let her fingers graze his forearm and then remain there. “And I neglected to thank you.”

“The light was poor. Usually you can see the sunlight glinting off it. That’s why the Taliban and al-Qaeda favored pressure plates and other triggers that were belowground.”

“I didn’t see it at all.” She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you for saving my life, Puller.”

He turned to look at her. He thought that he saw a tear glistening in her right eye, but she looked away before he could be sure.

“You’re welcome.”

She removed her hand from his arm and rose.

“We better get going. I can drive. You leave your ride here. We’ll take my truck. Tired of the police wheels right now.”

He let her walk a bit away from him before she turned back. With the sunset behind her, Sam Cole looked radiant in her dress. Puller took a moment to admire the view.

“Are you coming?”

He rose.

“I’m coming.”

CHAPTER

37


JEAN TRENT WAS DRESSED in khaki slacks, red sandals, and a matching red sleeveless blouse. She was seated in the sunroom on the western side of the house where there was no sun left to shine. She already had a cocktail in hand and asked Puller and her sister what they cared for.

Puller opted for a beer, Cole a ginger ale.

“Wow,” said Jean. “You two look like trouble for sure.”

“Sorry we’re late,” said Cole. “We got detained over a case.”

“No worries. It allowed me time to have another martini.” She glanced at Puller. “You should try one.”

Puller ignored that comment and said, “Have you heard from your husband? Did he get to where he was going?”

“He rarely calls me from the road. I’m not even sure when he’s going to be back.”

“Where’s Meghan?” asked Cole.

“Swimming laps in the pool.”

“This late?” asked Cole.

“She’s trying to work off her stomach. I tell her it’s all part of growing up, just baby fat, but the other girls call her names and she hates it.”

“I would too,” said Cole.

“Roger is large-boned and prone to weight problems. We never had that issue in our family,” Jean added, looking over at Puller, who perched on a small settee covered in green-and-purple vine fabric. “Now, if you’re any indication, height runs in your family.”

“It does,” he said.

“Father or mother?”

“Father.”

“And your mother?” asked Jean.

Puller didn’t answer. He turned away from her and looked around the room.

Jean looked at his waistband. “Do you have to carry a gun to dinner?”

“Regulation. Have to carry it with me always.”

Cole said, “Will Meghan be joining us for dinner?”

“Doubtful. She’s also starving herself.”