Дэвид Балдаччи - The Forgotten

“No, in the fountain out back.”

“But it’s not that deep.”

“Apparently she fell, hit her head, and slipped into the water unconscious.”

“Oh my God, how awful is that?”

“Well, if she was unconscious she would have felt no pain or panic, but it’s still not a pleasant way to go.”

“Who found her?”

“Next-door neighbor.”

“Cookie?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure he’s really broken up. They were good friends. It was funny to see them together. He’s short and she’s tall. She reminded me of that lady from The Golden Girls TV show. I’d watch it on TV Land when I was a kid.”

“Right,” said Puller.

“She was her own person, and although sometimes she was hard to get along with, I admired her spunk.”

“Yeah, spunk runs in the family,” replied Puller. “Cookie told me you help him too?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got a lot of clients in Paradise. Keeps me hopping.”

“You a native?”

“No. And I don’t technically live in Paradise. I’m in Fort Walton Beach, which is nearby. I came down here about five years ago from New Jersey. The winters are a lot nicer, meaning warmer.”

“I bet. How was my aunt before she died?”

“She had the typical aches and pains associated with someone of that age. She was on meds – again, no surprise there. She used a walker. She was tall, a lot taller than me, but her spine was curved. She had her good days and bad ones. Like all of us.”

“Yeah, but she recently had a really bad day.”

“Well, yeah.”

“How were her spirits? Did she seem depressed, annoyed, worried?”

“Not more than usual. I’ve been a caregiver for quite some time now, and I’ve found that older people’s emotions can run the gamut during the day. They tend to be in higher spirits in the morning. As night approaches they start to falter a bit. At least that’s been my experience.”

“Did she drive? Or did you drive for her?”

“I would run errands. To the store, the pharmacy, stuff like that.”

“In her car?”

“No. I’d use my own. The company I work for doesn’t allow us to drive our clients’ cars. Insurance thing.”

“So did she drive, then?”

“Not while I was here.”

“Which was how often?”

“Two-three times a week.”

“Every week?”

“Usually, yes.”

“And did you stay over every time?”

“No, hardly ever. She didn’t really require it.”

“When would you leave?”

“Around nine.”

“So if she went out at night for a drive after you left you wouldn’t know about it?”

“No. But why would she go out for a drive? I mean, where would she go?”

“Asking the wrong person. I just got down here. Don’t really know the lay of the land yet. But if she did drive around and went, say, five miles out and five miles back, where might that take her?”

Ryon mulled this over for a few moments. “Well, if she went south that would take her right into the Gulf. If she went north, it would take her into Choctawhatchee Bay. This part of the Emerald Coast is fairly long but pretty narrow, with water on both sides.”

“East and west?”

“West, that would come out around the jetty, although it’s all back roads there. If she stayed on Highway 98 it would angle northwest and take her to Destin.”

“And east?”

“Then you’d be heading toward Santa Rosa Beach, Seaside, and then, way past five miles, Panama City.”

“Anything interesting along that way?”

“Lots of beaches. The Emerald Coast stretches for about a hundred miles. You’ve got Eglin Air Force base to the west, and east of Panama City there’s Tyndal Air Force base.”

“Lot of military bases around here,” commented Puller.

“Right. I guess you’d know that being in the military.”

“And there’s Pensacola, where all the naval aviators go to learn to fly. And Hurlburt Field, although that’s really part of Eglin. Air Force has its special operations command there among other things.”

“You obviously know a lot more about that than I do.”

“Probably not a lot. I’m Army. The Air Force operates at a higher altitude.”

“Well, again, I’m sorry about your aunt.”

“And I’m sorry for scaring you. I really appreciate everything you did for Betsy.”

He walked her to the door, turned on the outside door light so she could see better, and watched Ryon walk down the driveway to her car, a blue Ford Fiesta with a large dent in the passenger door.

As she drove off, Puller saw a police cruiser coming down the road. He didn’t manage to close the door in time. And he was aware that the exterior door light made him about as visible as a digital billboard.

The cruiser did a hard left into the driveway and the driver hit the rack lights.

Puller stood there watching as Chief Bullock stepped out of the car and headed toward him, one hand on his sidearm, his gaze dead center on Puller.

Bullock stopped when he was within five feet of Puller, who had stepped out onto the front stoop. “You want to tell me what the hell you’re doing here? And then try to give me a reason why I shouldn’t arrest your ass right now.”

Puller held up the keys to the house. “Got these from my aunt’s lawyer.” He slipped the copy of the will out and held it up for Bullock. “She left me the house. It’s all in here. You can call the lawyer if you don’t believe me or what the document says.”

Bullock lurched forward, snatched the will out of Puller’s hand, and read it under the porch’s exterior light. He folded up the will and handed it back to him.

“I’m no lawyer, but it looks like you got yourself a house. Of course if your aunt was killed I guess that gives you a first-class motive to kill her.”

“Except that I wasn’t in Florida when she died.”

“And you can prove that?”

“If I have to. And if I knew I was going to inherit the place, why would I come down here, kill her, and then show up here and get arrested so you’d know I was down here at all?”

“Maybe you’re stupid.”

“You’ll have to take that up with the Army.”

“I’ll take it up with you anytime I want so long as you’re in Paradise.”

“Can we call a truce here? If I rubbed you the wrong way, I apologize. It was not my intent.”

Bullock rocked back and forth on his heels, let out a loud exhale of air, and said, “Forget it. Much my fault as anybody’s. I tend to get the hair on the back of my neck up too quickly.”

“No problem. I can understand that.”

“You still think your aunt’s death wasn’t an accident?”

“I don’t know. I’ve talked to the ME and I saw her body. Nothing has jumped out at me.”

“But you’re still not sure?”

“I guess you can never be sure. Maybe I’m looking for something that just isn’t there.”

“Folks do that sometimes.”

Puller put out his hand. “Look, I know you’re busy. Whatever happened on the beach today looked pretty important. I’m going to head back to where I’m staying. Thanks for not arresting me.”

Bullock shook the hand and then said, “Yeah, it was pretty bad.” He stared at Puller. “What we found on the beach.”

Puller took this as an offer from Bullock to talk about the case.

“Drowning?”

“No. Both shot in the head.”

“Both?”

“A couple actually. The Storrows. Nancy and Fred. Like you remembered hearing at the station. Well-known folks around here. Been here longer than me. They took walks on the beach every night. They did the other night and never came back.”

“Any witnesses? Clues?”