Zero Day (John Puller, #1)(86)

“Well, nobody asked me. And I didn’t know it was important. And it happened after you came by and asked me questions. I sure didn’t know it was connected to what happened over at the Halversons’.” His voice dropped. “Was it connected?”

Puller said, “Can you describe the person?”

“It was a man for sure. Tall, but not so tall as you, son. Big shoulders. Looked bald. Way he was moving I’d say he was young. It was dark, but there was some moonlight. Fellow had scars on his arm, or else was burned or something. It was all blackened.”

“So he had on a short-sleeved shirt?”

“Like a tank top, yes, sir.”

“Good eyes,” said Cole. “Night, at a distance, even with moonlight.”

“Lasik,” said George, pointing to his eyes. “I’m old and fat but I got me twenty-twenty at distance, and it wasn’t that far away.”

“You think he was from around here?” asked Cole.

“Can’t say. Like I said, he seemed to know his way through those woods okay. I could maybe pick him out in a lineup.”

“Tell ’em the rest, George.”

They all turned to see an old woman shoot into the room on a three-wheeled scooter designed for disabled persons. She had on a pink robe and her swollen feet were stuffed into too-small slippers. Puller noted that she wore a pearl gray wig that was cut short. She easily weighed two hundred pounds and looked as unhealthy as her husband. But despite her arthritis she steered the scooter with a practiced hand and rode it right up next to Puller.

“I’m Rhonda, his far better half,” she said by way of introduction.

Puller said, “John Puller, Army CID. What ‘rest’ are you talking about?”

George Dougett cleared his throat, looked warily at his wife and said, “Some other things I saw.”

“We saw,” corrected his wife. She looked at Puller and smiled triumphantly. “I was watching from the window.”

“Why?” asked Cole.

“Because my husband sometimes falls asleep outside while he’s smoking his cancer sticks. So I watch him to make sure he doesn’t ignite himself.”

“I have never ignited myself,” said George indignantly.

“That’s because you have a loving wife of fifty-six years who looks after you,” said Rhonda in the tone of a parent to a child.

“And what did you see?” Puller asked.

“It was nothing,” said George nervously.

Rhonda snorted. “It sure as hell was something.” She pointed at Cole. “Saw that deputy of yours that got killed.”

“Larry Wellman? You saw him do what?”

“He was walking around the house, looking at things.”

“He was patrolling,” said Cole. “That was his job.”

Puller asked, “Did you see him go in the house?”

“No.”

“Was he alone?” asked Puller.

Rhonda nodded.

“What time was this?” asked Cole.

“I’d say between twelve-thirty and one in the morning. George had smoked four cancer sticks, and he milks them for all he can.”

“Will you please stop calling them cancer sticks!” he snapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Touchy. George had smoked four of his coffin nails, and that usually takes him until close to 1 a.m.”

George groused, “Fifty-six years I’ve put up with this woman. It’s a miracle I haven’t killed her.”

“Keep going, ma’am,” Puller said to Rhonda.

“Well, then I went to the bathroom. George will have to pick up the story from there.”

Cole said, “Wait a minute, didn’t Officer Wellman notice you sitting on the back deck smoking?”

George shook his head. “I was lying on our little glider couch. The back part faces the Halversons’.”

“How could you see anything, then?” asked Puller.

“I was looking around the corner of the couch. I could see everything, but it would’ve been real hard to see me. And I’d put out my smokes by then.”

“So Wellman was patrolling. Then what?”

“And then I must’ve fallen asleep,” he said sheepishly.

“See,” said Rhonda in a gloating tone. “I went to the can and you could’ve ignited yourself into oblivion. Cremation on the cheap.”

His husband scowled. “I just said I’d already put the smoke out. And you’d like it if I cremated myself, wouldn’t you? Then you could spend my burial money over at that casino you like so much.”

“Mr. Dougett, if you could focus on what you saw?” prompted Cole.

“Oh, right. Anyway, I woke up and the next thing I seen was the big bald fellow coming out of the house.”

“Wait a minute. The bald fellow was in the house?” said Cole. “You never said that.”

“I didn’t? Well, I’m saying it now. He came out moving fast. He ran into the woods. Then I heard a car pull up. That was four thirty or so. I remember because I checked my watch.”

“That was me,” said Puller. “I drove up, called Sergeant Cole, and then went in the house. I looked around, found Wellman dead, and then heard Cole drive up.” He looked at Cole. “I saw a guy running in the woods, came back out, and that’s when I hooked up with you and we went after the guy.”