Zero Day (John Puller, #1)(76)

“So she tells Reynolds to stay on the case. Interface with this undercover person. She smells that second star. But instead Reynolds and his family get wiped out. Now Carson’s sitting on a potential bomb. If the truth comes out not only will she not get the second, but the first star might get stripped.”

Strickland nodded. “She has to play cover-up. But she told you that Matt’s work at DIA had nothing to do with his death. That he wasn’t working on anything sensitive.”

“What else would she say? He headed up J23. That alone is enough to believe his work got him killed. He helps prep the Chairman’s daily briefing. And if someone called Carson on it, she’d just say she was walking the ‘need to know’ fence. Stonewall me, but count on the fact that Reynolds being DIA will be deemed to be the cause of his death. And she probably is hoping against hope that whatever really got Reynolds killed never comes out. Then she’s safe. Otherwise, she’s looking at a lot of explaining if it’s discovered that she kept the lid on something big in order to score professionally. She went for the home run and popped up to the shortstop.”

“It that’s true, she’s in real trouble.” Strickland looked almost gleeful.

Puller said, “My job is to nail a killer, not knock off a one-star from her chosen career path. She might have screwed up, and if she did she might have to pay the piper, but that’s not my goal, okay?”

The gleeful look fled Strickland’s features. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Have a second conversation with a certain one-star,” said Puller. “I appreciate your help, Lieutenant.”

Strickland again turned pale. “You won’t tell her it was…”

“No, I won’t.”

CHAPTER

54


“WHAT THE HELL are you doing here?”

Julie Carson was not in uniform. She had on jeans and a sleeveless Army green T-shirt and her feet were bare. Her arms were tanned and muscled. She probably hit the gym every day and ran at lunchtime to catch the rays and keep her body lean, thought Puller.

She gazed up at Puller, who stood on the other side of the door to her condo. In his regulation dress uniform shoes he was about six feet five and the breadth of his shoulders filled the doorway.

“Got some follow-up questions.”

“How’d you know where I lived?”

“I don’t mean to insult your intelligence, but I’m an Army investigator and you’re in the Army. Like looking in the phone book.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Duly noted. Can we do this inside in private?”

“I already talked to you.”

“Yes, you did, and like I said, I had some follow-up questions.”

“I’m busy.”

“And I’m investigating a murder. Of one of your people.”

The door down the hall opened and two young people came out and looked over at them.

“Inside might be better, General,” observed Puller.

She glanced at the young couple, stepped back, and let Puller in, closing the door after him. She led him down the hallway. Puller noted the high-end fixtures, oil paintings, and tasteful furnishings in her condo across from Pentagon City Mall that was only one Metro stop from the Pentagon.

“Nice commute for you.”

“Yeah, it is,” she said brusquely.

They settled in the living room. She’d pointed him to an upholstered chair and she sat on a small loveseat across from him.

On the walls were pictures of Carson with an array of high-ranking military personnel and politicians. Every one of these people, and they were mostly men, had probably been instrumental in her career path. He had noted a similar photo wall in her office at the Pentagon.

“Nice place.”

“I like it.”

“I still live like I was back in college.”

“I’m sorry,” she said bluntly. “Maybe it’s time you grew up.”

“Maybe it is.”

“I’m not sure what sort of follow-up questions you might have.”

“Based on new information.”

“What new information?” she scoffed.

“About Colonel Reynolds.” He stopped and stared at her.

“Okay, I’m waiting, or am I supposed to guess?”

Puller took his time sliding out his official notebook and uncapping his pen. While he was doing that, he was also watching her. He saw Carson run her eye over his ribbon rows. You didn’t wear your ribbons or medals on your fatigues. But the dress uniform showed them in all their glory. And she could not help but come away impressed. Like his SAC had observed, Puller had been a stud in the field. The colored ribbons and bits of metal had never meant much to him. The actions behind the official awards were what he remembered. But if the military’s display of bragging rights got someone’s attention in an investigation, they were worth their weight in gold to him.

“You’ve accomplished a lot, Puller,” she said with grudging admiration.

“Only thing I want to accomplish right now is to find a killer.”

“Then you’re wasting your time sitting here talking to me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Get to the damn point. I’ve got better things to do than this. As I told you, I have to give the briefing tomorrow morning.”