Дэвид Балдаччи - Zero Day

“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.”

“So the bald guy who came out of the woods must’ve hung around while you were in the house,” said Cole.

“Must have,” agreed George. “I saw him take off, and just a few moments later I heard the back door open and you came out. I didn’t see where you went after that.”

Puller said, “Hid behind the car parked in the driveway.”

Cole said, “But Larry’s car was taken. How did that happen? Who did it?” She turned to the Dougetts. “Did either of you see anything about that?”

They both shook their heads.

George said, “That might’ve happened when I was asleep.”

“And I was in the bathroom a long time,” said Rhonda. “When you’re old,” she added, “everything just takes longer.”

Puller said, “Just to get the timeline straight, you last saw Wellman patrolling between half past twelve and one. He didn’t go into the house. The next you saw was baldy leaving the house shortly before I arrived. I found Wellman dead around five. And he was killed about three hours or so before that, or two A.M. That would be about an hour after you saw Wellman patrolling, and then you fell asleep. But baldy could have already been in the house or come there when you were asleep.”

Cole interjected, “That means baldy could have killed Larry and then fled.”

Puller shook his head. “But what happened to the car? This guy apparently didn’t drive off in it. And if this guy did kill him, why hang around in the woods at all? Why not just get the hell away? It was only because he hung around that I spotted him.”

“It’s a real head-knocker,” added George.

Puller said, “Did you notice if the patrol car was missing when you woke up? Or did you hear a car start up?”

“Neither,” said Dougett. “I must’ve really been out.”

“Would you two like some coffee and cupcakes?” asked Rhonda.

Her husband barked, “It’s the morning, for Chrissakes, Rhonda. Who the hell eats cupcakes in the morning?”

“I do,” she said primly.

“We already ate,” said Puller.

“Well, we hope we were helpful to you,” said George.

“Do you think we’re in any danger?” asked Rhonda in a way that demonstrated she was thrilled at the prospect.

“I’ve got a gun,” said George grimly.

“You’ve got no bullets for it,” said his wife. “And even if you did you haven’t fired it in years. Probably shoot yourself before you’d hit anything else.”

Cole and Puller left the couple bickering over this point and walked back to the police cruiser.

She said, “So where does that leave us?”

“We’ve got to find baldy.”

“Any thoughts on that?”

“Yeah.”

As they were driving back through Drake, Cole slowed her cruiser and pulled to the curb. Puller looked where she was staring.

“Roger Trent is back in town,” he said.

A black Cadillac Escalade with gold trim sat idling at the curb, a man he’d never seen before at the wheel. Puller eyed the driver closely, his gaze taking in all relevant details and his mind crunching through those observations and arriving at certain conclusions.

Interesting.

Next to the vehicle stood Roger Trent. He was dressed in a suit. Puller noted that it looked baggy and wrinkled, as though the man had slept in it. He had opened the door of the vehicle and was about to step inside.

“Looks like he just walked off the plane,” he noted. “Let’s have a chat with him.”

She pulled to a stop next to the Escalade and Puller rolled his window down. “Hey, Roger, got time for a cup of coffee in the Crib?”

Trent scowled at Puller and then glanced at Cole. “I just had a cup of coffee there.”

“Got some things to talk to you about. Won’t take long.”

“Is it about those death threats?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll give you ten minutes.” He turned and walked into the restaurant.

A minute later Puller and Cole were seated across from him. They ordered their coffees. The place was about three-quarters full and everyone there kept shooting nervous glances at the trio.

Puller noted this and said, “You come here often? I understand you own it.”

“I own just about everything in Drake. So what?”

Puller ran his gaze down the man’s wrinkled suit. “You just get back into town?”

“Yeah, again, so what?” He glanced sharply at Cole. “I thought you wanted to talk to me about those death threats.”

“We’re working on it, Roger.”

“Right. Well, you might want to look a little close to home. Just like last time.”

“I have. And I don’t think that’s the source. I wanted to let you know that.”

“I’m not sure you’re the most objective person to make that decision.”