Дэвид Балдаччи - No Man's Land

“Damn shame,” parroted Puller.

“You got a couple days’ leave, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“You worked your ass off in Germany. Nailed those suckers to the wall.”

“Thank you, sir. I had a good team over there. A lot of support.”

“Right. Anyway, I was thinking you probably needed a little more R&R than a couple days. Go ahead and take a week. Check in when you can.”

Puller could barely believe what he was hearing. “A week?”

“Check in. If you need longer, let me know. I can’t remember the last time you took any time off, Puller. Even a soldier needs to recharge.”

“Yes sir, thank you, sir.”

“And Puller, step lightly. If things get hairy it’s above my pay grade to backstop you. You do this with flanks uncovered, understood?”

“Understood.”

The line went dead and Puller slowly pocketed his phone.

A mixed message. But one Puller heard loud and clear. First, the time off. Then the warning that his ass was exposed and no reinforcements would be coming.

He drove on.

* * *

Lucy Bristow did not seem familiar to Puller from across the width of her breakfast room table.

She was petite, slender, with short silver hair containing blonde highlights. Her eyes were large for her small, oval face, giving her a perpetually penetrating stare. A gold bracelet dangled on her wrist. She had made tea and given a porcelain cup full of it to Puller.

“I remember Jackie very well,” she said. “I remember you and your brother too. I doubt you remember me. You were just little boys.”

Puller took a sip of the tea. It was hot and minty.

“And my father?”

She gave him a sharp glance. “Everyone at Fort Monroe knew John Puller Sr. He’d recently gotten his first star, brigadier general. I remember my husband told me your father’s career was tied to a rocket but that he deserved it. He wasn’t a paper pusher. He was a fighting man’s officer. He’d paid his dues. He told me your father had more sheer courage than any flag officer above him.”

“I understand your husband was in the Army?”

“Yes. He was a lieutenant colonel in your father’s command. We saw your parents quite frequently socially.”

“Is he still alive?”

“No, he’s not. He died a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“We were separated shortly before, but it was still a shock.” She put her cup of tea down and rubbed at her temple.

Puller watched her. “I’m sure.”

“We didn’t have children, so that made it a bit easier, if something like that can be made easier. My father was Army too, enlisted. Maxed out as an SFC. So an oh-seven was in the stratosphere for me,” she added, referring to the official pay grade rank of a brigadier general.

“I’m an enlisted as well,” said Puller.

“That’s right. I heard you didn’t follow your father to West Point.”

Puller was surprised by this. “Who did you hear that from?”

“Army women keep in touch. Scuttlebutt as fine art, I like to say.”

“Carol Powers told me essentially the same thing.”

“I was very surprised to hear from her that you were looking into your mother’s disappearance. I mean, it’s been such a long time.”

“I’ve been surprised by a lot of things lately.”

Bristow sighed and picked up her cup again. “She was a beautiful woman. On the inside as well as the outside. She was very popular at the post. Everyone loved her. She could have put on airs, what with being a general’s wife. But she pitched in and worked on projects, right in the trenches with all of us. And she brightened every room she walked into.” She paused and added, “She was a help to both my husband and me when we were going through our…issues.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I remember going to St. Mary’s.”

“I can still see her walking in with her two boys all dressed up in their Sunday best. You both were tall back then too. No surprise given how big your father was. And Jackie wasn’t short either.”

“He didn’t go to church very much.”

“You get to that rank the Army takes over your life.”

“I guess so.”

“Maybe that’s why you didn’t go to West Point,” she said, giving him a shrewd look.

“Maybe,” he said noncommittally.

“If I can speak frankly, I always thought it an odd match, your father and Jackie.”

“Why was that?”

“Well, she was nine years younger, for starters.”

Puller hadn’t really thought about the age difference between his parents. By the time he might have focused on it, his mother had long since vanished.

“And your father was the most focused man I’ve ever met. Commanded every room he walked into. The men loved and feared him.”

“I wouldn’t disagree with that.”

“My husband said most of the enlisted under your father’s command weren’t sure if he was going to shake their hand or kick their ass.”

“I wouldn’t disagree with that either.”

“Jackie commanded a room too, only with grace and elegance and just good vibes.” She paused. “They met in Germany, did you know that?”

“Vaguely.” Puller suddenly realized that he didn’t know much about his parents’ courting history.

“She was an Air Force brat. That was how I always saw her, floating above it all. Don’t get me wrong. She was nice and polite to everyone, and like I said, she pitched in with all the work. But she was also reserved, keeping part of herself out of sight and reach of everyone. Now, your father at the time was a lieutenant colonel with a chest full of medals and bullet and shrapnel wounds from Vietnam. They met at some military function. I heard it was like fire and ice slamming into each other. But then within a year or so they were married.”

“Opposites attract.”

“Maybe. She had two miscarriages before your brother was born.”

Apparently Bristow had made this abrupt segue to gauge Puller’s reaction, because she was watching him closely.

His jaw dropping was all the answer she needed.

“So you didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Parents don’t often talk about that.”

“I guess not.”

“But I had several miscarriages too, and it was something that Jackie shared with me after she learned of my loss. That’s why I know those details. When you called, I focused on that time in my life, and it was surprising how easily all our conversations came back to me.”

They fell silent for a few moments.

“Can you tell me anything about the day she disappeared?” asked Puller finally.

Bristow gazed over his shoulder. “I really can’t, John. You see, I had left my husband by then and moved into an apartment off the post.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It was for the best. Our marriage didn’t work out. And then he died.”

There was an awkward silence until Puller spoke up. “I was in the backyard playing when I saw her at the window. She was watching me and smiling.”

Bristow nodded. “She was very proud of her boys.” Her gaze dropped to his. “I’m sure you miss her very much. To not have her in your life all these years.”

“Yes ma’am,” Puller said dully. All these years without her. All that time gone. The things they could have experienced together.

“John, are you all right?”

Puller jerked back to find Bristow looking at him worriedly.

“I’m fine. So, the day she disappeared. It was a Saturday.”

Bristow nodded. “Yes, that’s right. The week leading up to that was a busy one. That Sunday there was going to be an Easter program at the church. A lot of details and planning. Your mother was on the committee, as was I. Even though I no longer lived on post, I would not have left them in the lurch on that.”