Zero Day (John Puller, #1)(58)

“How did your dad feel about it? He sounds like he was a salt of the earth guy.”

“He spent a good part of his life looking for coal. I think he stopped thinking about what it was doing to the planet. If he ever did.”

“And Randy?”

“What about him?”

“He looked for coal too. Was apparently good at it. Now he’s obviously dropped out of life.”

Puller paused. “Was he the source of the earlier death threats against Roger?”

She put the truck in gear. “Got one more thing to show you.”

CHAPTER

41


COLE PULLED HER TRUCK to the side of the road about five miles later. She got out, reached behind the seat, and pulled out two construction hard hats. She handed one to Puller.

“Where are we going that we need these?” he asked.

“To see my parents.”

Puller slipped the hat on and followed her. Cole had pulled a powerful flashlight from the bed of her truck and turned it on. They walked through the woods down a gravel path that soon turned to dirt.

“Ordinarily you have to get permission, be certified, and also be escorted for where we’re going. But screw that. It’s my mom and dad after all.”

They left the path and crossed a field, where they were confronted by a chain-link fence. Puller was prepared to scramble over until Cole pointed out the slit in the links.

“You did that?”

“I did that,” she replied.

They cleared the fence and kept walking. Cole finally slowed when they reached the edge of the cemetery.

“We’re obviously going to see their graves?” said Puller.

She nodded.

“Why all the complications?”

“Trent bought the community and the cemetery was part of it. Technically you have to make an appointment now to see your dead relatives’ final resting place. But to tell the truth, Puller, and though I am a sworn officer of the law, that requirement just rubbed me the wrong way.”

“I can see that. It would’ve me too.”

She led him around the graves until she stopped at a pair of them and shone her light on the markers.

“Mary and Samuel?”

Cole nodded.

“You were named after him?”

She smiled bitterly. “They thought I was going to be a boy. When I turned out to be a girl they named me Samantha and called me Sam. They didn’t think they were going to have any more kids, you see. Randy was a little surprise that came along years later.”

Puller read the birth and death dates carved in the marble.

“A boulder? Wrong place, wrong time. Senseless.”

Cole didn’t say anything right away. When she did her voice was deeper, huskier, like the walls of her throat were closing in.

“Could you give me a minute?”

“Sure.”

He walked about fifty feet away and started to examine some of the other graves. The cemetery was in complete disrepair. Headstones toppled, weeds and grass thigh high in places, and everything coated in dust. He had noted, however, that Mary and Samuel Cole’s headstones sat straight in the earth and there were fresh flowers on the graves, and the grass had been trimmed away. He assumed that was Cole’s doing.

“Hey!”

He whirled around when he heard Cole call out. He was next to her a few seconds later.

“Somebody’s over there,” she said, pointing to her left.

Puller squinted into the darkness. Cole aimed her light in that direction and did a sweep.

“There!” Cole pointed to the figure of a man fleeing to the east. She held her light steady and kept him in the crosshairs. Her mouth dropped.

“Randy? Randy?” she called in a louder tone.

The man was out of range of the light a few seconds later.

“That was your brother?” asked Puller.

“Yeah. I wonder what he’s doing here.”

“Maybe the same thing you were. At dinner he said he had places to go and people to see. Maybe he meant coming here.” He paused. “You want to go after him?”

“No. Let’s just leave.”

She drove them back to her house. His Malibu was in the driveway. They got out of the truck.

“You want to come in for some coffee? You said it helps you sleep. Jean’s fancy dinner didn’t include any. She’s more into after-dinner liqueurs or teas with names I can’t even pronounce. I just want my coffee Maxwell House black.”

Puller really wanted to head back to the motel and get some work done. And he almost said that. But instead he replied, “Thanks. Sounds good.”

She made the coffee and poured it out in two mugs. They carried it outside and sat on the swing in the backyard. She took off her heels and rubbed her feet.

“No mosquitoes. I’m surprised,” he said.

“I spray,” she said. “And one benefit of the mining up here is that the skeeters don’t seem to like the coal dust and other by-products any more than we do. Plus they’ve filled in so many sources of water that it’s cut down on the breeding grounds.”

They drank their coffee.

“I appreciate you letting me vent tonight about my family.”

“No problem with venting. Helps to clear the mind.”

“But we have seven homicides and a bombing to solve. And to think just last week the biggest problems I had were drunk and disorderlies, a few moonshine stills, and a burglary involving a microwave and a set of false teeth.”